Inside Out (20 page)

“Don't get smart with me. This is still
my
house. I don't care what you did before, you know better than to do it here. Besides, I thought you and he were—”

“If it makes you feel better, we didn't do tha—” Tracey stopped speaking. Her hands dove beneath her belly to support it as the pain and pressure shot straight into her back and all the way down her legs. Tears prickled her eyes as she stumbled from the pain.

“Ohmigod! I'm miscarrying!” she screamed to her mother through tears.

“You are not miscarrying!” she yelled back, though her eyes were as big as shortbread cookies.

“I am! I am! I'll die if I do!”

“Stop it, Tracey, you're going to be fine and so is your baby.”

“But it hurts!” Tracey howled. “God, it hurts! It's like there's so much pressure I can't stand it. Mama, you've got to call the doctor! I can't lose my baby!”

“Tracey.” Her mother used excessive calm to compensate against her excessive histrionics. “Tracey, you are not going to lose your baby. You're just going to have it. Baby, remember, you're already dilated. You knew this w—”

“No!” Tracey yelled even as she felt the contraction subsiding, but still relatively hysterical. “I can't have it now.”

“Well, honey, you've had this scheduled for almost nine months now. You may want to change it, but little Nathalie's not having it.”

Tracey looked down at her huge belly. “My Caesarian isn't scheduled until next week. She can't come out that way! She's too big! All of that can't come out of me!”

“Your doctor will be the judge of that.”

Tracey was certain horror was written in red script on her forehead.

“Tracey, baby, try and calm down. Remember what you learned in your classes. The main thing here is not to panic. Besides, you were already quite dilated at your last visit. You can have this baby.”

“The hell I can!”

Even in that situation, her mother scowled at her language.

“Just try and calm down, baby! And don't sit. It's best if you try and walk around for a while. I'm going to go and wake up Garrett.”

“No,” Tracey squealed, desperately grabbing for her arm. “No, you can't tell him!”

“Don't be ridiculous, Tracey,” was her answer to that. It didn't matter anyway. He was already walking in the room in his jeans, pulling on a shirt.

“What's wrong with her?”

“You don't have to be so damned matter of fact, and you can ask
me,
you know!”

“All right, Tracey, what's wrong with you?”

“I'm in labor!” It shouldn't have been so satisfying to watch him freeze with only one arm in his shirt.

Just like that he walked over and put his arms around Tracey. He squeezed a little and kissed her on the cheek. Somehow, the hysteria left her for a moment and she took a deep breath.

The hysteria came right back.

“Carolyn, could you please call Dr. Singh. I'll get her things together and we'll take my truck.”

“Okay, let's go.”

Rett felt as if he were the one giving birth. His breathing was uneven and his heart pounded. His whole body was rigid with tension. And Tracey wasn't helping any. Every time he looked at her in the rearview mirror, he felt himself pale, sickened by the fact that there was nothing he could do. That he had, in fact, done this to her. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

“I'm so sorry about the pain, baby,” her mother crooned, stroking her face and belly.

“I'm sorry, too,” Rett added lamely.

“Oh, it's way too late for that,” Tracey snarled.

Rett winced.

“Shh, Tracey,” Carolyn soothed. “Just think, you're going to have your sweet little baby here in just a minute. A little beautiful baby girl. Nathalie.”

Tracey seemed to quiet.

“Rett,” Carolyn called.

“Yes, ma'am?”

“I left my phone at the house. Can you call my husband?”

No,
Rett thought.
No, I cannot.

He took out his cell phone and tossed it to his… his what? His baby mama's mama?

* * *

Somehow, Travis managed to beat them to the hospital and led them to Tracey's private room. Rett followed impotently as Travis wheeled his daughter around with the nursing staff and his wife flanking him.

Angie and Monica showed up then, as well as a couple of Tracey's aunts. Then more people came and everyone wanted to see her. The staff, as Tracey got close, began to usher everyone away.

Rett had been a bystander that entire day, but no more. He'd been at a loss as to what to do when Tracey went through the contractions. He'd been grateful when the doctors gave her drugs to help with the pain. He'd watched her mother make the appropriate contacts and direct people in an organized fashion. But now, he couldn't stand on the sidelines anymore.

It was time for the baby to come.

Carolyn didn't want to leave, but even if she was Tracey's mother, she couldn't stay. Only one person could be in the delivery room at a time, and Rett—for once—had something that trumped the McAlpine clan.

“I'm the baby's father,” he announced. “I'm coming into the delivery room.”

The nurse looked to Tracey and she nodded her sweating brow.

* * *

After violent pain, heavy drugs, a natural birth that Tracey was completely unprepared for, and Garrett acting as Dr. Singh's enforcer, there was her little Nathalie in her arms. Right away, Tracey could tell the baby had Garrett's beautiful light hazel eyes. She also had a full head of sandy, nearly blonde hair. It was thick and curled softly. Her skin was almost the same as Garrett's, with his bronze tan, but kissed a little longer by the sun. She was perfectly beautiful. Beautiful. Tracey wept silently as she counted Nathalie's little fingers and toes and marveled that anything could be so tiny and so wonderful. Garrett crowded at the head of the bed with Tracey and cried openly, too.

The nurse came forward to take the baby.

“Mama needs to get some rest now,” she told Tracey.

Tracey
was a mama.

A mama! She reached for her baby even as she was being lifted from her arms.

“I'll bring her back when it's time for feeding,” the nurse reassured her.

Tracey didn't know why she couldn't just keep Nathalie in the room with her. She was tempted to ask her father to make them bring her back, but she checked the impulse. She was a mother. She had to stop the urges to have her father fix everything for her.

* * *

The next day, Tracey woke to see Angie standing over her looking a little flushed. It was the first indication that something serious was going on. She leaned over, kissed Tracey on the forehead, and sat down in the chair beside the bed. She held Tracey's hand. Tracey looked around the room and there was her mother sitting in another chair, also wearing a strange look.

“Where's Garrett?”

“Down in the nursery with the baby,” she answered. Then in hushed tones, “Tracey, there's someone here to see you.”

“Do I look bad?”

Angie winced.

“That good, huh?”

Tracey looked over at her mother. “I'll help you. Angie, give us a minute.”

Angie nodded and stepped out.

As her mother wiped her face and combed her hair, Tracey opted to question her about the visitor instead of arguing that she wasn't an invalid. However, Carolyn offered no information. All she did was smile tightly. When done, she planted herself on the windowsill with her arms crossed. Angie returned with a man Tracey had never seen before.

He was a tall white man with hair that had maybe once been dark red, but had faded to a brassy color. He was a thick fellow with what looked like a permanent smile in his familiar hazel eyes. He wore a short-sleeved mustard golf shirt and khaki shorts with a woven leather belt. He was very handsome, very fit, and looked to be around fifty years old. He wore a plain gold band on his left ring finger. In his hands was a bouquet of fresh-cut white daisies that were so pristine they didn't even look real. Tentatively, he moved towards her, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he turned and placed the flowers on a table and turned back, tucking his hands in his pockets. Tracey swallowed, thinking she knew exactly who he was.

“Hello,” Garrett's father finally said, his voice sounding very much like his son's.

“Hello,” Tracey replied clumsily, trying to sit up. The pain in the entire lower half of her body was not about to let her do it gracefully. Her mother and Angie both rushed to her side.

“Oh, no, you don't have to sit up on my account. I know what it's like. Both Rett and Angie were big babies. And back in those days, they just kicked everybody out of the room and strapped you down. My wife was not happy with that at all.” He gave an awkward but familiar smile, then gestured toward the flowers. “I brought these for you. I hope you like them. I didn't think…I didn't know what kind you liked.”

“They're beautiful.”

“Well,” he breathed and looked around, everywhere but at Tracey. “You know who I am?”

“Yes, Mr. Atkins.”

“Big,” he corrected. “You know, he didn't tell us until, well, until a few weeks ago. He also told me about your difficulties otherwise…” His voice faltered and he squinted a little. She remained silent. “Rett's mother couldn't be here. I know she's sorry about that.” This man, with his warm, encouraging smiles and Southern gentleman's accent, could not make the lie believable. And Tracey, even though she knew he wanted her to, could not help him. She couldn't make this meeting easy for him, because it wasn't easy for her. “Well, I guess you're wondering why I'm here.”

She made herself speak. “No, you have every right to be here. You're Nathalie's grandfather.” The relief she saw in his eyes made him look decades younger. He really was a handsome man. Angie looked just like him, but Garrett shared only his coloring and smile. “Have you seen her yet?”

He grinned big just like Tracey did whenever she thought of her beautiful baby. Her heart grew with every thought of Nathalie, and this man who had very nearly missed out on being a part of her life seemed to feel the same. “Yes. She's beautiful, isn't she? I never would have thought—” Big cut off his words with a hand to his mouth.

“Listen,” Tracey said, tired of this dancing around. “The more we walk on eggshells the more uncomfortable it's going to be. Say what you feel.” Some of the tension went out of the room.

“I just want you to know,” he began, “I've always wanted grandchildren, and I love my grandbaby. I do, she's my first. When Rett told us, it was hard to imagine. I have to be honest and say I wasn't… well…he had another girlfriend, y'know. And I had always thought… I'm really putting my foot in it now, aren't I?”

“No.” She managed to smile at him. “I understand. I know about Kim. I also know what kind of shock this must have been for you because I know what my own parents' reaction was.”

He scratched his chin. “You do intend to allow us to see her, don't you? All of us already love the heck out of her. You wouldn't—”

Tracey cut him short, realizing his discomfort because she was growing hot with her own. Back on eggshells. Everyone thought she was heartless, and Tracey guessed she had been. “Garrett can see her. He signed the birth certificate, even. At first I thought it was best for everyone if he didn't know. But now that he does…”

“I see,” Big responded. “I think I can tell you that when I found out, at first I did wish that you had gotten away with keeping it from him. I agreed wholeheartedly with your decision to hide this from him. I told Rett as much.”

“Really?” Tracey tried to keep the anger beneath her ribs. “And what did he say?”

“Something best not repeated. I only felt that way because I knew there would be some…tension in the house for a while. But I adjusted. Angie's told me a lot about you.” His voice cracked with the slightest indication of pain. “Well, I'm sorry, but I've got to run. It was good meeting you, finally. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

Tracey wanted to believe him, and when he came over to hug her quickly, she did believe him. Angie walked him out. Tracey exhaled finally.

“What did he say to you?” That was Garrett's voice. His face was creased with concern.

“Nothing, Garrett.”

“Because if he said something to upset you, especially at a time like this, I think I'll—”

“What did he say to you?” That was Auntie Colleen coming in with her hands on her hips.

“What did he say to you, Tracey?” That was her father storming in with Monica in his wake.

“It's good to know you're all so concerned,” Tracey offered dryly. “He didn't say anything upsetting. Just ask Mama. He wanted to know if he could see the baby. If Garrett could see the baby.”

“And what did you tell him?” Garrett asked.

“I told him that was fine. That we'd work out visitation and everything. What's wrong with all of you? If you were so worried he was going to come in and do something to me, then why on earth did you let him in here at all?”

“That wasn't my idea,” Carolyn said.

“I didn't know he was coming, Tracey,” Garrett answered, middle finger and thumb massaging his temples.

“Well, all of you can stop looking like I've just been held hostage. We talked, he was pleasant, everything's fine.”

Rett and her father both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Then her parents took off. They told her that they were going home to get the room prepared for her and the baby and that they would be back to get Tracey. She and her healthy baby were being released. Tracey's aunts and Moni left shortly after. As soon as they were out the door Angie turned to her.

“Did Rett tell you what happened when we told them?”

Garrett was silent but didn't make a move to stop her.

She began to walk around the room, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Well,” Angie began, “Rett asked me to do it with him, I guess for support.”

Tracey looked over at him and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“He told them that he had gotten someone pregnant. My mother was okay at first and then, ah, she demanded that my father get out his checkbook.”

Tracey's reaction had to be written on her face because Angie said, “Save your shock, Tracey. You're going to need it for later. Well, Rett told them right away that the baby was almost born anyway. My mother asked Rett how long he'd known. He told her and explained that you had planned to raise the baby by yourself because you didn't want to burden him with it.”

“That was kind,” Tracey muttered, turning to stare out the window that didn't show her anything but clear blue sky.

“Well, my mom wanted to know if he'd told Kim, if they were still together. He told her that they had broken up a long time ago. That's a whole different story right there. Whatever.”

Garrett shrugged.

“But what's more important, I guess, is the way the rest of the conversation went. Well, Garrett told them, you know, about you.” She gulped. “Or, rather, I did.

“My mother didn't take it so well. That's where the check came in, and she…uh…said some things. She's not as open as the rest of us, so to speak. She said some things and told Garrett Nathaniel Hinson Atkins to take the check and get rid of you.”

Tracey breathed slowly. Mary Margaret Hinson Atkins didn't want her lily-white son having a baby with a black woman. Though she had expected that kind of reaction from people, she didn't expect it to come from so close to home, nor did she expect it to hurt so badly, although Tracey's hurt was more for Garrett than herself. He loved his mother.

Angie cleared her throat and went on, “Dad refused to write the check and Rett would have refused to take it if he had. Rett told him that he was going to be a…a…” Tracey saw the tears but barely believed they were coming from one of the strongest women she knew. Angie sank into the chair against the wall with her head in her hands and her hair covering her reddened face.

“I told him,” Garrett continued for her, a stoic expression on his face, “that I was going to be a father. Momma went on about no son of hers, and I guess I am no longer a son of hers. But my daddy has, obviously, accepted things as they are.”

“What do you mean ‘no son of hers'?” Tracey asked.

“She wanted me to choose, and I did. That's that.”

Tracey glanced over at Angie, who sat silently, a guarded look on her face. She glanced back at Garrett, whose lips were pressed together and whose stance was rigid. She scooted over in the bed a little and patted the seat next to her. He looked a little perplexed then, as if he wouldn't sit beside her. But, finally, he did. She leaned up and hugged him close to her. Tracey felt him shudder as he pulled her tight. She stroked his hair as the sob broke free. Angie slipped out of the room, a hand covering her face. He whispered something to Tracey about never having cried until he met her. She squeezed him and couldn't stop crying, either, even when she heard him say, “You didn't tell me, Tracey. I wish to God you would have told me.”