Page 35 of FWB

Kenny

I call Sam to come pick me up at the hospital after my breakdown. He comes immediately and I tell him everything between wracking sobs, including my situationship with Tiegan.

We’re still sitting in our driveway, heater running, by the time I finish telling him my version of events over these last several months.

Sam looks over at me and lets out a deep breath before saying, “Shit, man. Why didn’t you tell me about all of this sooner?”

“I don’t know, Sam. I guess I’m just weird about sharing my sexual escapades with you.

I usually keep that stuff between me and my partner at the time.

Tiegan was no exception. Except she was.

She was my dream woman, and then I went and fucked it all up.

Now I’ve lost her forever. On top of all that, there’s a good chance, in a few hours, I’ll find out if I’m the father of a newborn whose mom tried to perform an unauthorized, at-home, late-term abortion!

What am I supposed to do with all that?“ I cry, exasperated.

“Look, Kenny. I’m not going to sit here and tell you things will magically work out between you and this Tiegan girl.

Chances are, that ship has sailed and there’s nothing you can do about it.

But you have another charter on the horizon, and it’s not going to be an easy journey.

Becoming a single dad is going to be a lot of fucking work.

But you’re not going to have to do it completely alone.

I’ll be by your side every step of the way, holding you accountable to the standards I know you can achieve raising that little girl. ”

“Lilii.”

“What?”

“Her name is Lilii Rose. Lilii with three I’s.

“ I roll my eyes again at the absurdity.

“That will be changing ASAP if I have anything to say about it. My kid deserves to be able to find the correct spelling of her name on those cheap novelty keychains you find in souvenir shops. Not some trashy misspelling to try and be ‘unique.’”

Sam laughs. “Well, whatever you decide, I’m going to support you one hundred percent. I’ve always got your back, brother.”

“Thank you.”

I barely sleep and I don’t eat for the next thirty-two hours. I can’t. My body won’t tolerate food until I know my fate. Coffee is about the only thing I can choke down.

At 9:27 a.m. on Sunday, four cups of coffee deep, I get a call from the hospital.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mr. Kenny Hillford?” asks the static voice on the other line.

“Speaking,” is all I can manage to mutter.

“This is Dr. Balboa. The results of the paternity of a Miss Lilii Rose have come back, and it is determined that you are the father. Congratulations. We’ll need you to come to the ward to add your name to the birth certificate.

We’ll need two forms of ID, plus your social security card.

Once all the forms have been completed, you’re free to take her home this afternoon. ”

My head feels like it’s about to explode as I’m processing all of the information.

You are the father. I don’t remember ending the call with the doctor.

Suddenly, I find myself on the floor at the foot of my bed in the fetal position, rocking back and forth.

I don’t know how long I stay like that. Eventually, Scarlett prances into the room and nudges me with her nose, relieving me from my stupor. Thank god for cats.

I move on autopilot, collecting the documentation Dr. Balboa said they’d need before releasing Lilii into my custody.

I grab the diaper bag that Sam prepared sometime yesterday, filled with all the things I’m sure to become very familiar with soon.

I was so out of it yesterday that I didn’t know what to do first. Sam basically stole my credit card and went on the hunt for the best quality basics Lilii would need upon arrival.

Things like a crib, rocking chair, and changing table were all delivered the same day.

Meanwhile, I was still in a stupor. I would not be ready for Lilii’s homecoming today if it weren’t for Sam.

To be honest, I think he had a little too much fun shopping for baby gear.

He ended up bringing home more than a dozen bags from different stores, all containing various little outfits, onesies, diapers, formula, wet wipes, mobiles, toys, and more.

Sure, I’m technically paying for it, but let’s be real—I have no idea where to begin when it comes to caring for a newborn.

I don’t know the first thing about babies aside from they pee and poop a lot and cry incessantly.

Sam, on the other hand, helped raise his little brother when his parents had him later in life.

So he knows what it takes to raise an infant.

I’m going to be relying on him to get me through this for as long as I can.

When I arrive at the hospital, I go to the Administration desk.

I tell them that I need to sign some documents proving my paternity to my daughter.

The associate gives me a set of directions to follow to reach the Office of Birth Rights.

I get a sense of deja vu as I press the intercom to the doors of the ward and wait for someone to buzz me in.

Once I’m let through the large set of double doors, I turn left toward the office I’m expected at.

When I turn the corner and enter the drab office space, I’m greeted by a pleasantly plump, middle-aged woman with a large gap in her two front teeth that is on full display as she beams at me. “Hello! How can I help you today?”

“I’m here to sign the birth certificate for my daughter, claim paternity and temporary full custody.”

“Okay, and what is the name of the child?” she asks, her southern accent pleasant.

“Lilii Rose. L-I-L-I-I,” I reply, spelling out her first name so there’s no confusion. “Is there any way I can change the spelling of her name while I’m here? I’d much rather have it spelled the traditional way, like the flower.”

She hums. “Mmm, unfortunately, no. It looks like the mother—Jazmine, is it?—already signed the birth certificate. Once it’s been signed by one parent, there’s no changing it unless you go through the court.”

I sigh. It was worth a shot. “That’s fine. What do you need from me?”

An hour and what felt like a hundred forms later, I finally have a copy of Lilii’s birth certificate with both mine and Jazmine’s full names on it. Jazmine left the last name on the certificate blank, so I went ahead and gave Lilii my last name. One less thing I’ll have to go to court over.

The associate, whose name is Gina, hands me my ID and social security card. “Okay, Mr. Hillford. Are you ready to meet your daughter?”

The moment I lay eyes on her, I know in my bones that she’s truly and wholly mine.

She’s seven pounds, two ounces, and twenty-two inches of perfection.

I never thought I could love something and be simultaneously terrified of it.

I count all ten perfect fingers, followed by all ten perfect little piggies.

She’s sleeping peacefully in my arms. She has been since the nurse handed her to me more than thirty minutes ago.

I can’t stop staring at her long, dark eyelashes and her full head of dark, curly brown hair.

Her eyes are still a deep blue, but I have a feeling they’ll change into more of a hazel color when she gets a little older.

The nurse comes back into the nursery where I’ve been sitting here rocking, just talking to her and telling her sweet nothings that will eventually turn into sweet everythings. “Are you ready to take little missy home?” she asks, speaking softly so as not to wake the baby.

“I’m so scared of what’s going to happen when she wakes up.”

“You’ll be fine, Dad. You got this. Just trust your intuition.”

“I don’t know if I have that intuition,“ I mumble to myself.

A few minutes later I’ve got Lilii strapped into her car seat. She ended up waking up and started crying. The kind nurse gave me a crash course on how to tell the difference in the reasons for her to cry. Is she hungry? Did she soil her diaper? It’s all a guessing game.

“Don’t worry. No parent knows what they’re doing on the first try. You’ve got this,” she says with a thumbs-up as I head out the doors of Vanderbilt Medical, Lilii in tow.