Page 12 of Vows of a Mobster
“Dr. Guzman, what are the chances-” the words got stuck in my throat, and my lip trembled as my hands shook in my lap. I pressed my hands together, to keep them from shaking. I couldn’t think like that.
He stood up and came around the desk, placing his warm hand on my shoulder. It was a strange kind of comfort, but right now, I needed someone else’s strength. I was scared and tired. I just needed hope, hope that it would all be okay. That my baby would be okay.
“We’ll find a way, Brianna,” his voice was low. I raised my head, his image watery from the tears I held back. I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it painful to breathe. “Whoever is willing to test for it, bring them over. If we have to, we’ll test millions. There is a match out there, I am positive. Until then, we’ll resume the therapy. Next Wednesday.”
Is this the payback? God’s way of punishing me?
But he was punishing Emma in the worst possible way. He should have made me sick, not my baby.
I stood up, and the old man took me into his embrace. “She will grow up into an amazing and strong young woman,” he told me softly. I had known him since I moved back to Boston. When I was a kid, I’d cross paths with him every so often. My dad and grandma had many acquaintances. But it wasn’t till my grandmother took me in and I selected him to be Emma’s doctor too that I learned what a great person he was. “She’ll become strong like you, Brianna. Don’t forget your strength.”
I shook my head in agreement, not willing to admit I felt weak right now. I was scared and weak, unable to protect my daughter. She deserved better and more from me.
My drive home was a blur. I wasn’t sure if I ran lights or even stopped at any of the signs. Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure how I got home; my brain was a scrambled mess. Once parked, I stared at the home my grandmother had left me. The little cottage was charming, surrounded by the garden and flower beds my grandma maintained for the duration of her life. This place had so many happy memories from my childhood. Even when my mother left my dad for a California senator, my best memories were those visiting my dad and grandmother. It felt like home each time I visited. My grandmother would make me cook with her, dad would take me boating, fishing, or the gun range.
In California, I was known as a senator’s daughter and spent my days mostly alone in my room, practicing ballet or reading in the library while my mother and stepdad attended functions. As I got older, my presence was required but those were even worse. You had to watch what you said, ate, how you moved or breathed.
What was my mother doing now?I wondered. I glanced at the time, noting it is three in the afternoon.Probably her tea with other distinguished ladies of the political circle.
Definitely not a good time to call her. I heard that even after my stepdad passed away, she maintained her social circle.Appearances are everything Brianna,I heard her voice even now.
Maybe the best time to call her was after ten at night so maybe she’d stay up all night, losing sleep over another human being for a change.Not likely,I scoffed to myself.
The door of the cottage opened, Emma running out the door with Marissa and Daphne behind her. Those two looked exhausted, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Mommy,” she yelled, running to the fence. I quickly exited my Jeep and lifted her over the fence, twirling her around.
“Hey, princess,” I greeted her, kissing her on the forehead. Her chubby small arms wrapped around my neck and my heart swelled. She was my everything from the moment I felt her move in my womb.
I met Marissa’s and Daphne’s eyes above my daughter’s blonde hair. There were no words needed, they knew the news wasn't good. But as Dr. Guzman said, we’d test till we get a match.
“Down,” Emma demanded. She was always a restless little thing. I lowered her onto the ground, and she took off into the house.
“How bad is it?” Marissa asked.
I leaned against the white picket fence, my eyes traveling over the little yard. The picturesque surrounding wasn’t exactly reflective of how I felt right now but it was the spirit lifter I needed. If I have to, I’d drag every person to Dr. Guzman’s office to get tested. I’d kidnap and kill if need be.
“I’m not a match,” I spoke quietly.
“What?” Marissa’s face was shocked.
“But you are her mother,” Daphne tried to understand it. I couldn’t blame her confusion. I was so sure I’d be Emma’s perfect match too.
“There are rare instances where a child takes either after the mother's family or father’s family,” I tried to explain. Although none of us wanted to think of him or remember him. “Dr. Guzman said to bring whoever is willing to get tested. We’ll find a match eventually.”
“A stranger can be a match?” Daphne asked, frowning. I nodded.
“I’ll get tested then,” Marissa announced.
“Me too,” Daphne added.
This was the reason these women were my best friends. They never waited for me to ask for a favor or help. They were always there for me, whether I wanted them to be or not. I took them both into a hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“She is ours too,” they both whispered. “We are in this together.”
“Giovanni will want to get tested too,” Marissa muttered. “Is that okay?”
