Page 51

Kelton

“I don’t know,” I say as I pace the waiting room. My heart feels like it’s being squeezed. I can barely breath and I know everyone is concerned but I don’t have any answers. I look up when the doors slide open and two people in scrubs step out.

“Kelton James?” the male says reaching out to shake my hand.

“How are they?” I hold my breath bracing for the worst.

I’d been out of town for a fundraiser with a few of the guys when I got the call.

It was December, about a month before Emerson was actually due, and both Gran and Liz were with her.

In fact Gran had finally decided to come live in Tennessee.

Refusing to live with us she found a small condo on the edge of town but having her here was all I’d hoped for.

Now more than anything I was glad to have her here. I needed her support.

“Your wife is in recovery,” he states. “The delivery went well, when she fell she lost consciousness.” I nod feeling unable to form any words.

I was destroyed knowing I wasn’t here with her.

I’d looked forward to sharing the moment of the birth of our child, imagined cutting the cord and being introduced to our little one together.

But now, here we are, and all I want and need to know is that they are both safe.

“Tell me they are both going to be okay.” I need those words more than anything.

Emerson fell trying to hang shit in the baby’s room, and Liz found her. We don’t know how long after the fall she found her. Her breathing was labored, her pulse weak, and she was in a pool of blood. Blood from the head wound as she collided with the corner of the dresser.

“Your daughter is strong, and though she is a month early, she is doing amazing.”

Daughter.

I feel Liz and Gran flank me, each placing their hands on my arms.

“She is small, but that isn’t stopping her. Five pounds, six ounces, eating like a champ.”

My vision is clouded by tears.

“Your wife required stitches, and we are monitoring her closely, but we do feel she will make a full recovery. She’s in and out but has spoken your name.”

“Can I see her?” I need to be there. Fuck I’ve missed so much already. I’m never leaving her ass again, she and our daughter can ride right at my side to every single away event, games, commercials, whatever it be. I know I’m being crazy, but right now it’s how I feel.

“We are going to take you back,” the woman assures me. “She may be in and out, but we figured you’d want to still be at her side.”

“Yes.” I step forward and look at Liz and Gran.

“Go.” Granny June nudges me along. “We’ll be right here waiting for news on momma and our chance to meet your little angel too.”

I have a daughter, I think smiling through the tears as I’m led to the back.

When I step into the room and see Emerson in bed, the tears fall. She was alone, that is breaking me.

I sit at her side, reaching out to lay my hand on hers. Gently rubbing my palm up and down, her head turns toward me and her eyes open.

“Hey.” I have a million things running through my mind but want to ensure she is alert enough to hear them.

“Sorry.” Instantly she starts to cry. “I wanted to hang the new curtains up and then organize while you were gone. I wanted you to come home and see it all but I should have waited. I don’t know why I was being so stubborn.”

“Because you are my stubborn, independent wife,” I say, kissing her hand. “And I expect our daughter to be exactly the same.”

Emerson’s lips curl into a smile. “Our daughter,” she repeats. “Have you seen her?”

“Not yet.” I don’t tell her it’s because I had to see her first. I don’t say it’s because I felt like I may have lost her and needed to see her breathing in order to be able to finally breathe myself.

Instead I say, “I wanted us to be able to meet her together.” Which isn’t a lie, I did want that.

“I’d love that.” Emerson’s eyes flood with tears and I pick up the call button and hit it. Excitement races through me as I ask for them to get my other girl and bring her to us.

“She is so attached to him,” I hear Emerson say as both her and Liz hover near the doorway.

I sit out on the patio, the doors all closed but the blinds and curtains drawn back so I can see the view of the yard.

It’s the place Bailey and I share every morning.

Sometimes in the middle of the night I wake up with her and we end up here rocking in our chair.

A matching glider I purchased after we brought her home last month, knowing I needed one too.

“My mom would love this,” Liz adds and I close my eyes thinking of my mother.

Bailey Lillian James. Her middle name after my mother. It was Emerson’s idea and when she told me what she wanted to name our daughter I fell in love with her all over again.

“Grammy would have loved you,” I whisper near my sleeping daughter’s ear. She wiggles, stretching her little arms over her head before settling once more.

This, the life I’ve been gifted, it’s more than I could ever ask for. I’m in love with my daughter and her mother, they are my world, the air I breathe. My heart beats for them.