Page 25 of Hot Life

“Des is a better storyteller than I am. Why don’t you tell Dolly about how you fell in love with her.” Cedric kissed my wrist again before flicking his gaze back over the curtain. I knew it was an effort not to stand and monitor the doctors’ every move. I knew Cedric was trying to distract me.

I turned my gaze to Des. “I already know that story.”

“Ah, do you?” He grinned, and despite whatever operation was happening to my belly right then, the butterflies still darted around. “You know that Cedric and I became friends after he did a tiny, minor, easy surgical procedure for me, right?”

Cedric snorted and I grinned. “Yes, that little thing.”

Desmond smirked. “We kept up through email and texts, grabbing dinner or camping whenever our travels crossed paths. After he met you, he wouldn’t shut up. I’d never seen him so happy. He told me all about you. About your childhood, your sense of adventure, your love of marine life, and your quick wit.” He exchanged a fond look with Cedric before continuing. “I thought, I’ve got to see this girl and what all the fuss is about. So he showed me your photo and a little video he took of you guys planting flowers in your yard. I just…It was wrong, it was really fucked up, but I…I think I fell in love with you right then.”

My eyes welled with tears.

“I wasn’t just aiming to see my dad or looking for a place in Seattle, Queen. When I heard you guys had settled in, I wanted to come meet you in person, at least. I wanted to meet the woman I could never have. But then, well, you know. Cedric offered me the opportunity of a lifetime: to look after you. It’s all I ever wanted. And I haven’t been able to stay away since. I think it was always supposed to be the three of us. Cedric, you, and me.”

Tears were falling down my face into my ears now. He gave my arm a careful bite, avoiding all the tubes and chords. The sweetest bite, like he did the day I met him.

Cedric smiled and kissed my cheek. “I have my own story of meeting you before I met you. But I’ll tell you another time. There’s no topping that one for now.”

Desmond chuckled.

I looked between both of my husbands. My whole heart. Each of them. “I love you both so much. I’m having your baby. We’re having a baby.”

Then Dr. Kamara interrupted. “You’re going to feel some pushing and tugging, okay, Dorthea? Let me know if it’s too painful.”

I cried out at the pressure on my abdomen. It felt like getting sucker punched. Cedric’s voice relayed something to the anesthesiologist who jiggled my IV with some other drip. The pain subsided a bit and then I heard it.

A baby’s cry.

It was beautiful, piercing, and full of life.

The curtain lowered a fraction and a squirming, wet body was placed on my chest below my neck. Cedric and Desmond’s arms steadied us both while tears fell down both their faces. “Dot—”

“Queen—”

Their voices cut out. All I felt was the weight, the perfect weight, of the life below my chin. Warm and soft. The baby stopped crying at my voice. Like magic. “Hi, Krill, I guess I’m your mom.” Their deep grey eyes so perfectly shaped peered right into my soul as if to say hello, hi, I’m yours and you’re mine. And my heart flooded with love I didn’t know was possible. Euphoric, magnificent, deep oceans of love for this wiggly, naked little creature.

But the creature was getting hazy. No, come back, let me look at you more.

Something buzzed and then beeped a long, continuous tone behind me. Someone shouted. Cedric. He was standing now, yelling orders. The weight lifted off my chest. No, don’t leave.

Desmond’s hands were in my hair, his eyes pulling further and further away. “Stay with us, Queen.”

And then the room went black.

* * *

I’m suspended above the scene of lush green grasses and rolling hills snaking their way to a sharp cliff, the ocean grey and crashing against the black, jagged rocks below. I see myself sitting against giant boulders and ruins with a drawing pad. My red hair is a darker shade and pulled back in a claw clip. A way I never wear it, in clothes I’d never wear. And I’m in ripped jeans and a dirty tank top. As I’m floating above myself, I look for Cedric, or Desmond, or our baby. I was in the operating room and now… Is this death? Suddenly an Irish man’s voice calls in the distance, but I can’t make out what he says. Is this Ireland? He walks over, brawny and handsome. He’s followed by two other men: one tall and dark and the other slimmer with tattoos and a guitar slung over his back. They all lean and sit by me, but I barely glance up. It’s as if I don’t notice them at all. But from this distance, it’s easy to see their eyes and hearts full of emotion…love, lust, longing…when they look at me. I notice a faint grin as I finally acknowledge the Irishman. It’s then I realize, this isn’t me. This is someone else. This woman drawing somehow feels like me, and Desmond with her smirk, and Cedric with her pensive concentration. It’s not me at all.

This is our daughter.

And she’s okay.

With a sigh, I float away.

* * *

Breath pulled into my lungs as I opened my eyes with a gasp. Monitors were beeping a steady thrum next to me. Frantically, I searched the dim room, my eyes fuzzy. At my feet a man was slumped over, asleep and holding my foot as if to keep me from drifting away. Desmond. My heart settled and I noticed my other husband propped in a rocking chair next to me, dozing. In the corner, my sister lay bundled in a blanket on the hospital couch. Then a woman’s voice whispered, “Oh, Dorthea, we’ve been so worried.”

My mother carefully stepped over Des and took my hand. “What happened?” I croaked, my mouth dry and parched.

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