Page 81 of Private Tutoring
“Not yet.” She rubbed her protruding belly in a loving gesture.
I didn’t think I could love anyone ever again. Then Harmony walked into my life and showed me that love could last a lifetime, be torn away, and learn to give even more. My capacity for love grew because of her and our child.
“Harmony.” Her mother stuck her head out from the hospital room. She was an older version of Harmony, with the same blonde hair and bright eyes that crinkled when she smiled. “Come stop these two before the nurses throw them out.”
Matthew and Roberto complained behind her, both claiming they were not to blame for the machine beeping.
Two nurses stepped out from the nurses’ station across from Harmony’s room. They’d all been incredible from the moment we arrived. No one batted an eye at us, not even Harmony’s mother. From the moment we met her in Milwaukee, she’d been on board with our unconventional relationship. Her exact words were, “As long as my baby is happy, I’m happy for her.”
Harmony put her hand on her hip, the other still tight in my grasp. “Stop pushing buttons. It’s like you’re reverting to childhood because you’re about to have one of your own.”
“Hey, might as well.” Roberto pointed a tiny knit cap at Harmony. He must have pulled it out of the overnight bag we’d packed weeks ago.
Another contraction stopped Harmony in her tracks when she started forward again. “Yep. That sucks.”
“Let’s see how things are progressing.” A nurse in mint green scrubs took Harmony’s arm and guided her into the room.
I thought I’d gotten used to the antiseptic smell, but it hit me again when I followed her into the room. My heart raced, my skin turning clammy.
Matthew and Roberto closed in on either side and walked me to the window that overlooked a rooftop garden. “Keep breathing, man. We’re going to get through this.” Matthew shifted from childish to my best friend in a heartbeat, and I realized his and Roberto’s actions were for mine and Harmony’s benefit. They were trying to ease the tension.
I braced my shoulder on the thick glass and palmed my face. “Thanks.”
“It’s what we do.” He punched my shoulder. “Keep it together, Dad.”
Dad.Was there any sweeter word in the world?
The nurse checked Harmony, patted her knee, and smiled. “Won’t be long now.”
I’d heard those words before, less than an hour before doctors and nurses kicked me out of my wife’s room. Two hours before they came back to tell me that I’d lost them both.
The room swam in and out of focus. Fucking hell. I had to get it together. I’d suffered the worst loss imaginable, and I had to work through that trauma to be here for Harmony.
“Stephen, come here.” Harmony beckoned me to the chair by her side.
I took a wobbly step, ground my teeth to stop the shaking, and sat. “What do you need, love?”
“You.” She leaned across the space and kissed me.
I rested my forehead against hers. “I’m here.” I would always be here for her.
“Good.” She pressed her head harder into mine. “Because we’re about to have a baby.”
The setting sun sent golden light into the room. It crested over Harmony’s head and landed on her bed, creating a kind of halo that stole my breath. It almost felt like a promise.
Time became relevant as Harmony’s labor progressed. By the time our baby girl made her appearance, night had fallen. Her first cry lifted the veil of fear that had consumed me.
Harmony smiled weakly from the bed, her face alight with love and gratitude. The nurse took the baby to a bassinet in the corner. I dogged her steps, almost tripping on her heels.
“It’s okay, Dad.” The nurse, who I thought said her name was Rose, set our girl down and picked up a tablet. “She’s perfectly healthy. I’m just doing a few required tests, normal things we do on every baby.”
I heard every word, but it was the tiny bundle nestled amid the white blankets that stole my attention. She boasted a mop of dark hair, and her eyes were scrunched together as she wailed.
“It’s okay, baby girl. We’re here.” I eyed Rose. “Can I touch her? Hold her hand?”
“Of course. Let me finish cleaning her up, and you can carry her to Mama.” She smiled at me, her gaze sweeping around the room. “This has to be the most loving family I’ve ever seen. You’re all lucky. And this girl”—she wiped the baby’s eyes—“is in good hands.”
My heart had been so shriveled and dry when I first met Harmony. I’d been adamant about never loving again. All that changed, thanks to her. And thanks to the love we shared, I had a chance at family again.
