Page 57 of Letters to Lily

“Sure, sweet girl.” That endearment hit me right in the heart. He had been calling me that since we were young. Kade stood in front of me and held out his hands for mine. As he took hold of them, I expected he would use them to heave me up off the couch. Instead, he crouched down lower, bending at the knees, placed my hands on his shoulders tightly, and then moved his own to my hips. From there, he gently pulled me to standing and for the first time in over six months we were caught up in each other’s arms, embracing the way we once used to. Well, with the exception of now having a giant belly coming between us. “That’s going to take some getting used to.” He pointed out.

“No need to get used to it since it will only be around for a few more weeks.” I was only thinking of how close my due date was when I said it, but suddenly Kade looked so sad and dejected. “What did I say?”

“No, it’s nothing you said, Sash. It’s just that I fucking missed it. I missed every damn thing, and it kills me.”

I placed my hand flat on his chest, just over his heart. “You didn’t miss everything. You made it back before she was born. You’ll be there for that. It’s okay. Take me home, and I’ll show you why it’s okay.”

He simply nodded his acceptance, and we walked out of the house, toward his Jeep without saying another word. Kade’s hands never left my body as we moved along. They stayed glued to my hips, with me in front of him, as we moved through the front door. As we walked, he pulled me tight up against his side, as if he was afraid that the moment he let go, we wouldn’t have any more contact ever again.

I would think him silly for that, except it had happened to us before. We took our time together for granted, and then one day it wasn’t there any longer. The touches, the smiles, the simple things we forgot to cherish were gone in an instant. I understood now how fragile it all was, and I thanked my lucky damn stars that we were going to get another chance to get it all right.

Chapter 26

Nov. 02

I was almost afraid to drive. My emotions were all over the place, part of me was worried about what she wanted to show me, and how it might affect us. The other part of me, the more rational one, knew that what she had to show me was something she seemed excited about, so it couldn’t have been bad. Still, there was no way to shut off all the conflicting emotions. If I had to give what I was feeling a name, it would probably be shellshocked. All I wanted to do was keep touching Sasha, because the fear that she would just disappear, lingered under the surface whenever I couldn’t feel her against me.

When I had leaned in and kissed her earlier, I wasn’t sure how she would react to me doing it, but the compulsion to make sure she wasn’t just a dream had been too much to deny. The fact that she hadn’t pushed me away, or screamed at me, had to be a good sign. Right? Thinking back on that moment, feeling the baby kick me right through her stomach, was something I would never forget. I lost another piece of my heart to another girl that day. My daughter. I couldn’t believe we were bringing a daughter into the world. I’d had a few days now to come to grips with the fact that I was going to be a dad, but I don’t think it actually sunk in fully until I felt her tiny little kick. Then, to see the actual imprint of a foot through Sasha’s stomach… I can’t even describe that feeling. It was intense, insane in the best way, and completely unforgettable.

As I pulled into Sasha’s driveway, full of trepidation a few minutes later, I still refused to take my hands off of her for any longer than necessary. Once I tossed my Jeep into park, I jumped out and was around the car before she could even get the door opened all the way. I helped her out since she would otherwise have a bit of a jump to get down. If I kept the Jeep, I would have to install running boards down there. Then again, I was already thinking of better vehicles to trade it for, considering I had a baby on the way.

We weren’t in the house more than a minute before she pointed to a big brown suede couch with colorful throw pillows all over it. “Go ahead and have a seat. I’m going to pre-heat the oven. We have some pizzas here. It will probably be the easiest thing considering the day we’ve both had.”

“Sure,” I told her as I sat and waited. I was counting my breaths in and out as she came back into the room. Oddly enough it was something Sasha used to do when she was nervous. I never really had a bad case of nerves in my life until recently, so I didn’t get the whole counting thing before when she used to do it. It always seemed to work for her though, and now, it helped to keep my heart from hammering out of my chest.

Sasha reached over to her coffee table for what looked like an overly large, decorated photo album. “Kristin and I started making this from the very beginning. We took pictures of the growing bump,” she pointed to her belly then. “Every two weeks like clockwork we’ve taken a picture. Starting Monday, we’re supposed to do them once a week from here on out because I will be 35 weeks along then, with only 5 weeks to go.” She opened the scrapbook and the first image hit me like a bag of bricks. It was a picture of a home pregnancy test that clearly stated she was pregnant. I didn’t even realize I was moving before my fingers traced across the image. I should have been there to see that in person.

In that moment, I questioned if I would ever truly be able to forgive my mom for going off the deep end when she did. I took off to help her and ended up missing this. “Are you okay?” Sasha asked. I guess she’d been watching me struggle with my emotions for a minute, so I told her what I’d just been thinking.

“I know it’s hard. All of this is, but your mom couldn’t have known. I would be willing to bet money that if Helen had known, she would have put your dad on hold so you could both have been here for that.” Her arm swung out behind me and her fingers traced smooth little patterns across my back. I sank into her touch as I turned the page. There, in a flimsy little black and white photo was apparently the first picture ever taken of my little Lily.

I laughed as I traced that image with my fingers too. “I’m almost afraid to ask this, but which little blob is she?”

Sasha laughed right along with me. “Don’t feel bad, I had to ask the doctor the same thing.” Then she pointed and circled a tiny little spot in the middle. “I was around seven weeks there.” I noted the date on the image was a couple days after I had left for Vegas. “I got to hear her heartbeat that day,” her whisper is sheer reverence for the memory, and again, regret swamped over me for having missed out on that.

I swallowed down the emotion threatening to gobble me up and turned the page. There, in all her midriff baring glory, was my Sasha, the way I remembered her looking before I left. She’s standing in profile against a wall in her old apartment and there’s a sad looking smile on her face. There’s nothing to see, but her still flat stomach. The date beneath matches the date of the ultrasound photo I just looked at. On the next page, with a date that shows two weeks later, there was another photo of Sasha in profile. This one shows pretty much the same thing. There is one noticeable difference though, and I pointed it out to her.

“Your boobs and butt are quite a bit bigger in this one,” I grinned as I told her that, and Sasha leaned in and swatted at me playfully.

“Yeah, it was a perk to pregnancy to make up for the fact that I would throw up pretty much anything I attempted to eat for breakfast or lunch.” Her tone was playful, so I knew that even though she went through that discomfort, she had no regrets about it.

“I would have held your hair for you,” I say, finally giving voice to the longing I felt. “I would give anything to be able to go back and be there for all of this.”

“I know,” she told me. Those two words meant the world to me, because she really did understand that our situation was beyond either of our control. There was no way I would have missed anything, even if I had never pictured myself as a father at the age of 19. To be honest, the events of the past few months had culminated in me feeling much older than my chronological age indicated I was.

As I turned the page again, the first thing that stood out was that there was a note with the photo. At the top of Sasha’s belly pic, where you could actually see her baby bump forming, were the words Boy or Girl? That made me sit up a little straighter. A note underneath the picture shows the date was June 29. Then there’s a little blip written in that says, ‘see ultrasound pic’.

On the adjacent page is a black and white photo where I can actually make out a head and body. “That’s her?” I whispered in awe of the image. I know it came out more like a question, but seeing my baby for the first time, where she’s recognizable, blew me away. On the same page, there was also a little handwritten caption underneath. “I’m either a modest girl or a mischievous boy playing hide and seek. Maybe, we’ll find out next time.”

“Damn, so you didn’t find out when you were supposed to?” I asked, looking up at Sasha. She shook her head, though her coy little smile about the memory melted right into my heart.

“No, she was definitely trying to be modest, but we had a chat. I explained to her that when I went back it would be the one time it was okay to spread her legs and show everyone what she had, or didn’t have, as was the case.” I laughed at that, and then leaned over towards Sasha’s belly.

“I agree, no more showing off your goodies to anyone until you’re… well, never. Let’s go with never.” Sasha laughed and stood up as the oven beeped in the kitchen. I didn’t want to continue on without her, so I joined her in the kitchen to help with dinner instead. This was not the first time Sasha and I had ever cooked together, or simply baked a pizza at home, but somehow, it seemed like a momentous occasion. I didn’t want to ever make pizza anywhere else. I didn’t want to ever have to leave her side again. I also wasn’t certain I could express any of that to her just yet.

We ended up staying in the kitchen while the pizza baked, catching up on what classes we were both taking, and what we’d been up to outside of our heartache and other people being in our lives. She told me about her mom signing over the trust fund from when her dad died so she could buy this house. I took everything in and smiled at what she had put together for herself.

“You did good, Sasha. It’s a nice place, and it’s very you.” As we sat at the dining table to eat our pizza, I glanced up at the wall, and saw one of Sasha’s photos that had been blown up into a large, framed print. “I remember that day,” I said as I took in the waterfall and the trees. I remembered that my girl had liked the pretty flowers that bloomed on them. “We got lost in order for you to get that photo,” I laughed.

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