Page 64 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
She opens the door and turns on a small lamp that gives off a soft, warm glow. The room is small, but there’s a rocking chair, a small dresser, and I can see the corner of a crib.
The baby is hers. Thank you God.Now, I’m left to wonder if the baby is mine?
I stand rooted in the doorway, just taking it all in. I stare at her. Taking all ofherin. Her hair is darker now. Circles under her eyes attest to sleepless nights. I want to cup her face, feel her smooth skin under my fingertips. Promise her that everything will be fine. That we’ll figure it out.
Wecanmake it work, right?
She motions to me. “Come all the way in.”
I step all the way into the little room. The crib that was mostly hidden from the doorway, is tucked back on the left. I walk, like something is pushing me, until I’m standing right beside the crib.
The baby has a full head of dark hair. The same color as mine. The pink outfit makes me think it’s a girl. She’s so peaceful. Has no clue that I’m here. Has no clue how much our lives are about to change.
She lays on her stomach, her little bottom up in the air. Fists curl next to her head, and a pacifier is in her mouth. It bobs up and down as she sucks on it.
Raegan stands beside me and lays her hands on the crib rail.
“This is Grace. She’s eight months old.”
Her hand brushes mine as she leans in closer. Electricity runs from her finger and zings all over my body, like a ground ball hopping across the infield and through the hole into right field.
“She’s yours, Austin.”
Her beautiful eyes, shimmering with tears, look up at me with such tenderness and love. But something more lurks deeper. Guilt, shame, maybe even fear. I want to pull her close. To hold her as she cries. Tell her it’s okay, that I’m not mad, well, nottoomad. It’ll take time. Trust has to be rebuilt.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I didn’t know how.” A shaky breath wobbles her shoulders. “Then once I was ready to tell you… Well, I was told you’d moved on.” Tears make little paths down her cheeks. “So I figured I would try to move on. Deal with the shame and…” A sob shakes her shoulders. “And just be a single mom. And hope that maybe one day we could figure something out.”
I can’t help myself. I reach over and wipe away one of the tears on the cheek.
“I was so angry at God, for taking you away from me,” she continues, “for letting me be a single mom. For having to face the church, face this town; with a pregnancy before marriage.” She straightens her shoulders. “And no, I’m not blaming you, we both messed up. But it was so hard. And I didn’t know what to say to you, or to God. ‘Cause I wasn’t sure where I stood with God.”
I lay my hand gently on top of hers. “I’m sorry, Rae. Sorry you had to go through it alone.” I’m hurt. I wish she’d told me. Made more efforts to tell me that I’m a dad. She had nine months to figure it out. And then the eight months since then. But… She’snot the only one who didn’t make an effort. I could’ve tried harder, too.
I stare down at my daughter.My daughter.Still struggling to fully wrap my head around the fact that there’s a living, breathing, tiny human being that I created, and now I need to care for her and support her. And her mom. I have to work on that relationship.
My chest starts to feel tight, and my breaths are shallow. I’ve never had an anxiety attack, but I’m wondering if this is how they feel. “Rae, um.” I gasp in a breath. “Can I go sit down?”
Her eyes are wide with concern as she leads me out to the sofa in the living room. “Do you need some water?” I can hear the fear in her voice. I don’t want to scare her. Overwhelm her. There’s just so much to process.
“Uh, sure.” I finally stutter, as I settle back into the pillows on the sofa. I tip my head back and close my eyes. Focusing on taking full deep breaths, holding them for a few seconds before blowing them out slowly.
The sofa shifts, then dips, as she sits down next to me. “Austin?” She lays a hand on my forearm as she waits for me to respond. “I’ve got some water for you.” I hear her set it on the coffee table.
I finally lift my head and look at her. I can see doubt in her eyes. She thinks I don’t want to be a dad. That I’m going to leave her. Let her be a single mom. I can’t do that. Am I afraid that I’ll hurt her like my dad hurt my mom? Yes. But I made a human with her, and I won’t turn my back on that.
“Rae?” I reach for the glass of water. “We’ll get through this. Together. I know we both have a lot of growing to do.” I take a gulp of the water as my heart rate settles down. “We have to learn to trust each other, and build back what got broken.”
I set the water down and take her hand in mine. “I’m not going to run off. Well, I live in Frisco because of the team, but Ipromise that I’m not leaving.” I look into her eyes. “I want to be a part of your life. To be a part of Grace’s life. We’re not going to not talk ever again.” I hold out a pinky. “Promise.”
She hooks her pinky around mine and her lips tip up in a quiet smile. “Okay. I want you in our lives. I know she’ll love you. And you’ll love her.” She sniffles and swipes at her nose with a tissue. Before she can say anything more, Grace starts crying in her room. “Let me bring her out to meet you.”
She stands up and I watch her head back into Grace’s bedroom. I know she has my hair, but does she have any other features from me? I can’t believe I have a child. I can’t believe that Raegan and I made another human. My shoulders sink. We’ll have to talk about that night. I do and I don’t want to know if she blames me for us having sex, or if she’s mad at me about it.
“Ready to meet your daddy?” She talks to Grace in a low, soothing tone.
Grace is perched on her hip as Raegan comes back into the living room. Her head rests on Raegan's chest and she looks at me shyly. As she gets closer to the sofa she shifts Grace so that she’s in her lap as she sits down.
