you as soon as you can see her, son.”
I mouthed thank you and returned my attention to Jill.
“May I?” Jill reached forward, grabbing my angel. “The relationship between the mother—or in this case, father for right now—influences the child. If the parent accepts the nurse, the infant is more apt to do so. I like to talk to the baby as I examine him or her,” she explained, placing her on her back to change her. “Have you named her yet, Mr. Gunner?”
“No, I’m waiting for my fiancée to wake up.”
“Sounds reasonable to me,” she said, removing her diaper. “I will explain everything you need to know, and everything you never thought to ask. When you leave, you’ll be comfortable caring for her.” Her warm smile held some comfort. “However, we’ll wait until the baby’s mother is able to participate.”
“I appreciate that. This is our first child, and I want to do everything together.” The words rolled off my tongue like it was meant to be. My father’s knuckles hit the window once, and I knew it was time to see my beauty. “I’ll be back soon,” I told the nurse before kissing my angel’s hand.
It was time to see my beauty. Before my angel, she was my first glimpse of light in the depth of my darkness…
I dreamed of you…wandering in the dark—or was that me? I reached for your hand. Just a little closer. I reached, but I couldn’t get to you. It’s so cold. I’m so cold…icy fingers of dread crawling along my bones…weaving juggernaut outlines of my life. Look at what you’ll never know, she cackled. I could feel another being there. Her voice strong, sure, and cruel. She floated out of the darkness with purpose and pointed her crooked finger at something I could not see. My eyes surrendered to follow through the darkness. I began to make out the silhouette of something small, wrapped in a white blanket.
No…no…no…
A baby lay swaddled in a downy white blanket. My feet were set, but I could see her plainly. The first thing that came into focus was her eyes. Bright and bold, the center was the deepest blue rimmed in black, focused and staring straight through my eyes and into my thoughts. They glistened softly with a reflection of some unknown light. Alluding to a hint of innocence and desperation in her stare. Even in total darkness, the pale creamy white of her skin, untainted, and without a single flaw was visible. My eyes darted around, looking for the unknown entity that lurked, and my arms sought to protect the baby. Keep her safe, the words echoed subconsciously. I hadn’t anyone to do so for me, and it was the most natural feeling in the world to me. Protect her, the words chased my thoughts. Wait, my baby. My hands roved over my lower torso, and I gasped at my soft, flattened stomach. Impossible, I thought. My heart skipped several beats and my pulse kicked to a galloping pace. I closed my eyes, trying to inhale…one breath in…one long breath out.
Nothing.
I heard a faint giggle. And in the meekest desperation, my head tried to follow the sound until our eyes met, entrapped in a sickening trance. My throat caught on a phantom snag and air ceased to flow. Medusa. The words never spoken aloud, but she grinned, enjoying my pain. I opened my mouth to speak, and she placed one long, thin, crooked finger to her lips. The snag pulled free, and my lungs filled again. Her smile spread wider, and her eyes glistened with pleasure.
“Please…” I begged. Her smile faded into a thin sneer.
Her head shook once and then she spoke. “You must cross. You have no place in this child’s life…no place in his life.” Her voice pitched angrily. He was the only one who treated me like I wasn’t broken—accepted me. And I was. So incredibly, irrevocably broken. But, I couldn’t find the words. All thoughts, all doubts, all confusion lost in the inescapable light beyond her.
Her face now so close to mine, the smell of cigarette and alcohol clung thick to her skin. Her figure now drifting toward the light. “She’s the rainbow at the end of a storm, and the light at the end of a tunnel…but she’ll never be your anything.” The words were like a whip striking my soul. I tried to shut out the pain of this devil’s accusations, but I felt some truth to her words. But the