Now he got it. When the most important person in your world was going through something as difficult and sometimes traumatic as childbirth, he could now see from the perspective of a devoted husband and father that it was normal to freak out.
The thought of Daisy suffering through labor set off a burst of panic inside him every time he pictured what it would be like to see his wife in a hospital bed, struggling to give birth to their baby.
Fortunately, they had a couple more months before that would be their reality. Soon, they’d have a little girl to love and adore. At first, they’d planned not to find out what they were having, but David had taken one look at the ultrasound and knew it was a girl. He’d asked Daisy if she wanted to know since it wasn’t fair that he knew and she didn’t. She’d said, Hell yes, I want to know.
They would soon have a daughter named Helen, the name Daisy loved.
He couldn’t wait for that part, and neither could Daisy. She’d begun buying cute outfits and onesies and little socks that were so small, they could’ve been made for a doll.
Helen Lawrence.
That sounded like an old-time movie star’s name. It had grown on him since Daisy had first mentioned the name Helen when they were riding out Hurricane Ethel together at the clinic. He’d tried to cancel it out by suggesting Myron for a boy, which had taken them back to square one. Over time, he’d come to see that Daisy was truly sold on Helen, and since he was truly sold on her, he’d agreed.
But he would get to name the next one.
As long as it wasn’t Myron, his wife had said.
David was smiling when he walked into the clinic to the sound of a mother in active labor.
He washed up, gowned up and gloved up and was walking into the room as Tiffany pushed her premature son into the world at just thirty-four weeks.
“You have a son,” Victoria announced as she quickly cut the cord and handed the baby off to David.
“A son,” Blaine said through tears. “We have a son.”
Tiffany wept as her husband held her close.
“What’s his name?” Victoria asked as she worked on Tiffany while David tended to their son. He’d emerged with a bluish tint to his skin that’d initially concerned David, but the little guy had stabilized quickly. David suspected he might be closer to thirty-six weeks rather than thirty-four.
“Adrian Robert Taylor,” Tiffany said.
“I love that. It’s a beautiful name for a handsome boy.”
“Why is he so quiet?” Blaine asked.
“He’s awake and alert,” David said. “Which is what we want to see. Five pounds six ounces and nineteen inches long.”
“Does this mean we finally had a quiet child?” Tiffany asked.
“Might be.”
“If there’s anything this family needed, it’s a quiet boy,” Blaine said.
Tiffany laughed through her tears. “Are you sure he’s okay, David?”
“He seems to be just fine, even though he came early.” He wrapped the baby in a receiving blanket and brought him to his parents. “Adrian, meet your wonderful mommy and daddy. You’re a very lucky boy.”
“Hi, buddy,” Tiffany whispered as tears continued to spill down her cheeks. “You’re so handsome, just like your daddy.”
As the baby looked at his parents with big, solemn, dark eyes, David decided he was an old soul, come back around for another trip through life.
Blaine ran a finger over the infant’s cheek, seeming in awe of the miracle he and his wife had created. “Thank God you’re here to save me, Adrian. Your mother and sisters are a lot, but I’m sure you’ll love them as much as I do.”
Tiffany laughed as she cried. “I can’t believe he’s here so early!”
“He knew his daddy needed him to hurry up,” Blaine said. “Welcome to the world, Adrian Taylor.”
* * *
