Love After War (22 page)

“But if I am and I have this child, I'll be raising it alone. You live in LA and I'm not moving because you have daddy issues and want to transfer your bullshit to me.”

A couple of customers glanced their way and Dana stormed to the register. Adrian followed her but kept silent. Before Dana could pull out the cash to pay for the test, Adrian slid his credit card to the cashier. He thought it was a wise decision to leave the condoms on the shelf, since he was sure there would be no sex going on between the two of them anytime soon.

“I didn't need you to do that,” she gritted out.

“I don't want to fight with you right now,” he replied.

Dana took her bag and rolled her eyes at him as she headed for the door. They walked the four blocks to Dana's brownstone in an uncomfortable silence. When they reached the front stoop, she turned to him and sighed. “I have to say this and you can understand or you can let the past cloud your judgment. There was a time when I wanted nothing more than to have a baby with you. We were planning a future, remember? Then you left me. Fast forward two years and I've changed and you have your demons, so tell me why would I be excited about this situation?”

“Do you think I want to pass my demons on to my child?”

Dana felt two inches small. She'd been so worried about Adrian's so-called dark side that she hadn't allowed herself to realize he would never let those issues hurt his child. “I'm sorry,” she said.

“Pregnant or not, I want a future with you. I need what we should've had two years ago. I messed up and allowed anger and the need for vengeance to take over my life. The truth is, we wouldn't be standing in this cloud of confusion if I had listened to my mother. Life is too short for me to stay angry. Nothing can change the past and what I did to my brothers was wrong. Hurting you was the worst thing that I've ever done, but I want you to know how much I love you. I need you, Dana. Whatever that test says, nothing is going to change the fact that I'm going to make you my wife.”

Dana burst into tears and fell into his arms. Adrian cooed how much he loved her in her ear as he stroked her back. She looked into his eyes and he wiped a tear away from her cheek. “Let's go inside,” she said. “And I love you.”

Once the couple made it inside, Dana rushed to the bathroom and opened the test. Her mind was still muddled with thoughts of motherhood. Was she ready? Even knowing that Adrian was all in, she wasn't sure if she was ready. Reading the instructions, she sighed and sat on the toilet.

“I can do this,” she whispered. “I can take this test and live with the results.”

 

 

Adrian paced back and forth in Dana's bedroom. He started to turn the television on when his cell phone rang. He started to ignore the call, but he thought it might be business—until he saw the New York exchange. It had to be the lab.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Bryant, this is Lydia Guthrie from Mount Sinai Medical Center.”

“Yes?”

“We got the results back from your blood test and, unfortunately, you are not a viable match for a bone marrow transplant for Mr. Crawford.”

Adrian sighed, feeling a little bit of relief. “Okay. So, what does this mean for him?” he asked as he locked eyes with Dana, who'd just walked into the room holding the Clearblue Easy test stick.

“We're going to search the National Bone Marrow registry for a match, unless there is another family member who meets the criteria.”

“I wouldn't know about that,” Adrian said as he studied Dana's face. She was smiling, but was she happy with a negative result? Was she happy because she was pregnant? All he knew was he needed to get off the phone and find out what was going on.

Dana had questions about the tail end of that phone call, but she knew Adrian wanted an answer.

“So?” he asked.

“Yes, we're going to be parents.” She held the stick out to him. Adrian dropped his phone and drew Dana into his arms, spinning her around.

She placed her hand on his chest. “Hold up. Was that about your father?”

His excitement dimmed. “Yeah.”

“Are you—”

“I'm not a match and I'm not upset about it.”

Dana placed her hand to her mouth. “Adrian.”

“I'd be less than honest if I said I'm upset. I hope the hospital finds a donor for Elliot. I don't want Solomon and Richmond to lose the last parent they have. But I couldn't save my mother.”

Dana hugged him and his hurt resonated. “You should talk to him before it's too late.”

“You know what,” he said, “I don't want to think about that right now. I want to kiss my future wife and the mother of my child.”

He captured her mouth in a hot kiss that made her shiver and her knees quake. Then in the worst moment ever, she felt nauseous. Pulling back, she rushed into the bathroom and wondered if this was going to be the next nine months of her life.

 

 

Adrian had no idea what to do to ease Dana's nausea, so he walked into the kitchen and brewed her a cup of tea. Though she didn't have any saltine crackers, Adrian found a box of Ritz. He placed a few on a saucer with the lemon tea and headed into the bedroom. Dana was sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing the back of her neck.

“All right, Princess Kate, here's some tea and crackers.”

Dana offered him a sheepish grin. “Thank you. I have to get it together for my meeting in a few days.”

Adrian joined her on the bed as she sipped her tea. He took her feet onto his lap and massaged them. Dana moaned in pleasure and she felt her stomach settling down. “I hope this isn't going to last nine months.”

“If it does, we're going to have to buy more crackers.”

Dana set her cup and saucer on the nightstand and gave in to the blissfulness of the foot massage. She leaned back on the bed and drifted off to sleep. Adrian dropped her feet and pulled her jeans off and tucked her in. As much as he wanted to push his father out of his mind, Adrian couldn't shut his mind down and join Dana in a restful sleep.

The next morning, Dana woke up with no morning sickness and in bed alone. She was low-key pissed off until Adrian walked into the bedroom with a tray of fresh fruit, tea, and orange juice.

“Morning,” he said as he walked over to the side of her bed and set the tray on the nightstand.

Dana smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I could get used to this,” she said.

“Breakfast in bed is my specialty,” he joked. “I also stocked the kitchen with food. No hot dogs, though.”

“Discovered Key Food, huh?” she asked.

He nodded. “I wasn't sure that I was going to find a grocery store around here, but walking a few miles, you can find anything.”

Dana sipped her tea and nodded. “It was only a few blocks.”

“Whatever. And this was left for you at the door,” he said when he handed her a slip from a delivery company. “I guess your bike is in the city.”

Dana's eyes twinkled.

“Umm,” Adrian began. “You know there's no way in hell you're getting back on that bike.”

“Are we starting this again? I am going to ride until the doctor tells me that I can't and after the baby is born—”

He shook his head and took her face into his hands. “You don't get it, do you? I worried about you when you were riding the motorcycle in Los Angeles. Riding with you, I worried about us. Now if you think I'm going to watch you—while you're carrying my baby—then you're out of your mind.”

Dana tilted her head to the side and picked a pineapple from her plate. Now, she had no plans to ride the motorcycle and Adrian's concern made her want to laugh. She had to wonder, though, did he think she was going to strap a car seat to the back of the bike and take the baby around the city?

“This is going to be a long nine months if you try to micromanage my pregnancy,” she said.

“I'm not trying to do that but . . . okay, I am trying to do that.” Adrian shrugged. “I'm not going to lie, I'm scared.”

“And so am I, but we can't live in a bubble. And I have to make an appointment with my OB to confirm the pregnancy. Maybe I should ride the motorcycle over there.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “I'll let the air out of your tires.”

“You would do something like that,” she said with a laugh.

He nodded and swiped a blueberry from her plate. “But I'm sure you won't force my hand.”

“So, when I make this appointment with my OB, are we going to go to the hospital so you can see your fa—Elliot?”

Adrian stroked the back of his neck. “I thought about that when I was searching for a supermarket. Maybe going back to the hospital isn't a good idea. If Solomon is still angry, we're going to fight again and this time, I will hit him back. Then there's the media.”

Dana placed her hand on his shoulder. “Stop making excuses. You need to talk to him and at least get whatever you have on your chest off. I'll go with you and distract your brother so that you can have a fight-free visit with your—”

“Elliot.”

“Yeah. Elliot.”

Adrian placed his hand on Dana's still-flat belly. “This baby will never have to wonder what to call me or who I am to him.”

“She is going to be a daddy's girl because she's already giving me hell,” Dana quipped.

“I guess we'll see.”

“You know,” she said in between sips of tea, “when a man has a daughter after living a life of . . . uh—”

“It's called karma,” he finished. “God punishes players, heartbreakers, and pimps with beautiful little girls and surrounds them with knucklehead little boys.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if we have twin girls,” she said.

“I wasn't that bad,” Adrian said with a laugh.

“That's highly debatable.” Dana picked up her phone and dialed her doctor's office. Adrian headed to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Dana was right; he did need to visit Elliot and have that final talk with him. He needed to make peace with his family because he didn't want his child—who he hoped would be a little girl with a smile like her mother's—to grow up in the middle of his one-man war.

After his shower, he returned to the bedroom and found Dana snuggled in bed, sound asleep. He dressed quietly, trying not to wake her. He failed.

“How long have I been sleeping?” she asked with a yawn.

“Not long. You rest, though. I'm going to the hospital to see Elliot.”

Dana nodded. “My appointment with the OB is at three. Call me if you can't make it or if you and Solomon end up acting like MMA fighters again.”

Adrian put his hands together and bowed at the waist. “I go in peace.”

She eased up in the bed on her elbows. “Do you want me to go with you? I don't mind.”

Smiling, he crossed over to her and kissed her forehead. “I'll be back before your doctor's appointment.”

“Okay.”

Once she was alone in her brownstone, Dana found herself unable to go back to sleep. She tossed and turned for a few moments before she got out of bed and took a soothing bath. After sinking into the warm water, Dana's cell phone rang and she groaned.

Slowly, she pulled herself out of the tub and grabbed her phone from the bedroom. “Yes?” she snapped when she answered without looking at the display.

“So, you two have come up for air,” Imani quipped.

“I was going to call you.”

“When? After two or three kids?”

Dana broke out laughing. “Are you having me followed?”

“No, but you two did make the
LA Weekly
. There is a story about the Crawford family, the call girl, who by the way says your man paid her to get in the car with Richmond.”

“I know the story about that,” she replied.

“And that's who you love?”

Dana sighed. “You need to give it a rest. I'm sure your godson or goddaughter will want you to get along with his or her father.”

“What are you . . . Dana! You're pregnant?”

“Yes, maybe. I'm going to the doctor later to find out.”

She could hear Imani sighing and imagined her friend struggling to find the right words to say with her lips twisted. “I can't believe this. At least our babies will grow up together. Wait, are you going to leave New York?”

“I don't know,” she said. “We haven't talked about it. But Adrian's business is on the West Coast and—”

“But you are so New York. You're like Jay-Z. And I'd miss you too much if you left.”

“So, this is about you?” Dana laughed.

“Partly. But what else is new? Seriously, if you're in LA and he turns out to be an asshole, how will me and my Brooklyn hoods get to put our paws on him?” Imani burst out laughing. “I'm sorry, I've been watching too much reality TV and reading this script too much. So, are you thinking of moving? Has he stepped up to do the right thing and marry you?”

“Adrian and I have talked about marriage. And you know what, I'm going to marry him. You're going to stand up for me as my matron of honor with a smile on your face.”

“If this is what you want, then I have no choice but to support you.”

“That's a ringing endorsement.”

“Okay, I need to get to know this guy, all right?”

“I get that, but what you need to know is I love him and I want you to be happy for me.”

“I am happy for you and I'm serious—I'll support this union but I'm keeping my eye on this guy.”

“Yes, you and your imaginary Brooklyn gangsters will come after him and beat him down.”

“Keep thinking they're imaginary,” Imani laughed. “As long as Mr. Slick doesn't hurt you again, you guys will never meet them.”

“How's the filming going?”

“Eh, it's a lot better since the recast.”

“Ooh, who go fired?”

“Whiny old Heather. I don't know what your future brother-in-law did to her but since they were in the papers, that is all she could talk about. It got so bad that she called a character Solomon. The producers and the director tried to work with her, but she was more annoying than ever. I say good riddance. You know, she had the nerve to call me fat.”

“What?”

“Yes, evil cow. I'm not even showing yet, but somehow she made a big fuss about me calling her out for the fact that she was still holding on to ten of the fifteen pounds she gained for that Oscar-nominated role.”

“Mani! That was mean.”

“Well, I'm pregnant. She has no excuse and I'm not sorry I hurt her feelings. Heather is a grade A bitch. If she was smart, she'd check into rehab like Demi Lovato and get some help.”

“You know it doesn't work that way for us in Hollywood. If she goes to get help, Heather will forever be the crazy girl who studios won't work with. So you know what this means for you.”

“What?”

“You'd better keep your crazy under wraps.”

“Anyway!” Imani said. “Speaking of under wraps, you're going to have to keep that horrible motorcycle in storage now. That's a silver lining when it comes to Adrian.”

“I see that both of you have the same idiotic thoughts about my Fat Bob.”

“Oh, you think tooling around New York on a motorcycle while carrying my godchild is a good idea?”

“I'm sure my godchild is loving jumping off fake buildings on a soundstage,” Dana shot back.

“I have great stunt doubles. One chick looks so much like me, I think I need to ask my father if he has something he needs to share with the rest of the class.”

Dana wanted to laugh, but thinking of the situation with Adrian and the Crawfords, she couldn't. Imani recognized her joke was in poor taste as well and offered her friend an apology.

“I can't imagine what Adrian is going through right now. Between the media, his fight with Solomon and now about to lose his father.”

“He never calls him his father. It's just sad.” Dana touched her stomach. “But when he found out about the baby, he was so excited.”

“I bet he wants to give your baby the life he never had. Are you sure he asked you to marry him because he loves you and not because he's trying to make up for the life he didn't have?”

Dana was glad Imani tapped into what she'd been thinking. She sighed and said, “I don't know. I hope that it's not a sense of obligation. You know what, I know it's not that.”

“I'm sure it isn't. People don't really do the shotgun-wedding thing anymore,” Imani said in an attempt to reassure her friend. “After all, he asked you to marry him. You didn't make it a condition of having the baby.”

“No, I didn't.”

“But your doctor is going to make you stop riding that bike. I can't tell you how excited that makes me.”

“Well, if I have to stop riding, at least I know a doctor in Harlem who would love to purchase my Harley.”

“And if you're talking about my husband, I'm going to hurt you.”

“I am talking about your husband and you'll just deal with it. Speaking of dealing with things, how are you handling morning sickness?”

“Oh, I don't have morning sickness. I have wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night sickness. Then when morning comes, I'm too tired to get up and throw up.”