Episode 5: Prayers Deferred

Tati

I’ve read that when people are about to die, they intrinsically know. They start moving differently, tying up loose ends, making sure their people have the tools to move on from them. From the trauma of them leaving.

The night before I turned twenty-seven, I dreamt for the first time in years. It was of my funeral, and it felt so real that I woke up out of my sleep. Patrick ended up waking up as well, and when I cried as he made love to me, he probably thought he was giving me the performance of his life.

And I mean, he was.

But more than anything, I was thinking about a time where I wouldn’t be able to be scared and he holds me until I feel safe again.

Because, for whatever reason, it settled deep in my bones that I wasn’t going to make it to twenty-eight.

My Patrick, he wouldn’t be able to survive without me. It’s not me being cocky. It’s just a fact. We are one, as one as two people could be. I don’t think he’s ever imagined a life without me since he met me ten years ago, and the feeling is mutual. I always wanted us to go out together, and meet each other on the other side. But my Patrick, he has so much more life to live. Life to enjoy.

So on my twenty-seventh birthday, I decided to find a way to keep him going without me.

I started getting sloppy with my birth control.

What better way to anchor my love to this realm than to give him a child to raise. Someone wholly dependent on him, more dependent than I am. A part of me. A legacy.

The only problem is, not knowing exactly when and how I would die.

What if my time came while I was pregnant? Before we could even conceive? That would devastate him any more. I didn’t have a dream again after that night, even when I cried silently in the bathroom at work, begging God or whoever was listening for a sign that I wasn’t further traumatizing the only man I’ll ever love.

You’d think the way I clung to him that I had daddy issues. My parents love each other just as much today as they did when they were teens. My daddy never cheated, and came home every night. He took me on father-daughter dates, bought me flowers when he bought my mother flowers. I was his princess, and I knew it. We weren’t rich by any means, but he and my mother worked hard to provide for me, and I repaid them by consistently earning top grades. I took any and all honors classes, as well as local college classes so that I wouldn’t have to start as a freshman. I performed community service at my church. I tutored at my school.

That’s how I met my love. There he was, mad at the world. I wanted him to like being here. I wanted him to like math. So I put on my brightest smile, and put my best foot forward.

Seeing his face transform with my own eyes did something to me. I knew then he’d be an integral part of my life.

Which is why I can’t, for the life of me, wonder why in the hell is life taking me so soon.

If I’d known this would be my last year, I would have said to hell with all my plans and rules. I would have been with him from the start. Four years of loving him freely isn’t enough.

When the shots rang out in front of my cousin Sean’s house earlier this year, I thought that would be it. I thought it was my time, especially when I saw my little cousin go down first. I couldn’t even scream before a bullet pierced my neck, and I was on the ground, too. Staring up at my love, while we both gripped my neck to keep the blood from gushing out.

I’d never seen him so scared before.

I kept my eyes open, even when I wanted to close them, so he’d know I was still here. I didn’t close them until I got to the hospital.

Until I couldn’t see him anymore.

But then I opened them again, and he was right there. Holding my hands as the doctor told me not only was I pregnant, but that I was a hemophiliac carrier. And if we had a son, he’d most likely have hemophilia, too.

Patrick wanted me to abort our baby.

He would never put me in harm’s way. He told me over and over again he didn’t care about having kids. He just wanted to grow old with me. If having kids put me at risk, then he was perfectly fine being the fly aunt and uncle.

That heavy feeling settled in my bones again. We wouldn’t be growing old. So I did something I never do.

I stood up to him.

I told him I wanted this baby, and we were having him or her. I wanted to complete our family. I wanted another piece of him I could love.

I thought he’d fight me on it. He seemed ready to. But then he just sighed, kissed me on my temple, and said okay.

Oh, but he didn’t just become apathetic.

No, I was on every herb and vitamin I could be on. He was at every appointment. I was damn near bubble wrapped, and he and my boss, Rowan Wyatt, ganged up on me and made me begin to work from home once the hospital released me.

He doted on me and waited on me hand and foot. He stopped going on his trips with the boys, only managing Palace since the club was popping when I was asleep.

He started getting excited, buying things, picking out colors for our baby’s room. And when we found out we were having a girl, we stared at each other with adoration and tears swimming in our eyes.

Right before he fucked the shit out of me in the birthing center parking lot.

I almost forgot about my dream.

I almost forgot why I even pushed to have my baby. 

I almost began to get settled into actually being a mother.

“Just… give it to me straight,” I mutter, rubbing my stomach.

Dr. Obasi’s face is completely composed. No hint of any emotion. The epitome of professionalism.

“The bone marrow biopsy we performed confirms you have Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Early stages of both are very similar, so it’s not surprising you were misdiagnosed when you were shot. But because you’re so late in your pregnancy, it would be best to wait until after you give birth to start treatment. We’d have to move fast, since AML is particularly aggressive–”

I stand, interrupting him. He’s shocked I stood so quickly, being eight months pregnant.

“Thank you for your time. I’d appreciate it if this conversation stays between us.”

I don’t wait for him to respond before waddling out of his office.

Dr. Obasi is one of the leading oncologists in the country.

Rowan knows him personally, since he treated Rowan's mother before she passed.

My annual bloodwork for my job came back abnormal, and Roe, being the neurotic and nosy mentor that he is, referred me discreetly. Patrick thinks I’ve been at mandatory meetings during bloodwork and tests.

I can’t even tell you how we pulled off me getting a biopsy.

But I’m glad we did it.

I’m relieved.

I know how I’m dying.

And I know when.

I drive to a park across the street from West Kenton Memorial and turn off the engine. Tears gather as I grab my phone and peer at the picture of me and Pat from my maternity shoot. 

I clear my throat and unlock my phone, going to Brina’s name and dialing her.

Her face pops up immediately. “Hey, you… oh no, pregnancy cries?” She sticks out her lower lip, making me cough out a laugh.

“Can you call Auty?”

Brina’s head shifts to the left, but she obliges, and thirty seconds later, my two best girls are staring back at me.

“You’re scaring me,” Brina mutters.

“I just… I love you girls so much,” I blurt. “I’m so glad I met you both. Autumn, you’re so badass, you don’t even know it. And Brina, your heart… it’s so pure despite everything you’ve been through.”

“Should we call Nutty?” Autumn asks, sitting up.

“No, no… just… promise me you won’t let him drown. If something happens to me.”

“You can’t think like that,” Brina says. “The birthing plan is full-proof. You said it yourself.”

“Things happen, and I need you to promise me because I’m hormonal and eight months pregnant… Autumn, you’re in charge of Anaïs. Raise her with Deuce if you have to, but make sure she’s respectable, loving, caring, and smart. Whip her into shape.”

“Of course, my goddaughter is in good hands.”

Brina rolls her eyes. She was so salty when I asked Autumn, like my daughter isn’t literally named after her.

“And Brina… watch after Patrick. You’re both stubborn, off-kilter sagittariuses, so he’ll listen to you. Make sure he moves on… don’t let him grow old alone. Anaïs will leave him one day, and he has so much love to give… he has to find someone else to love on. Promise me!”

“I promise! We got you and Nutty and Anaïs always. Now can we talk about something else? These promises aren’t gonna matter because you and Nutty are gonna live a long time, and you’re gonna be the one to raise my junior up.”

“Are you coming to the baby shower?” Autumn redirects.

Judging by the guilty look compounding on her face, I know the answer.

“I wasn’t expecting you to, Brina. I know everything is still fresh,” I say.

“I’m not coming to the baby shower, but I was thinking we could do lunch at that lounge again. If we go in the daytime, we can eat on the patio away from the hookah, and I can give you my gifts. You think Nutty will let you come alone?”

“I can think of something.” My last favor from Rowan, maybe.

“Perfect. I’ll come the weekend after. Now, I do need to get ready for class, unless you need me–”

“No, no. I’m sorry. I just needed to see you guys for a second. I’m holding you to your promises!”

Autumn’s eyebrows furrow while Brina purses her lips.

“I love you guys,” I choke out.

“I love you, too.”

“Love you too, Tater Tot,” Autumn mumbles, before I hang up and turn my phone on Do Not Disturb.

Rage comes over me, and I begin socking my steering wheel.

“Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck! Oh God!”

When I’m tired out, I examine my fist, already seeing bruises forming all over my hands.

A side effect I read about on the way to the oncologist’s office.

I’ve never lied to Patrick before. Not once.

But this… this I can never tell him.

Which means I can’t tell anyone.

Tears trail down my cheeks as I sit back in my seat.

I’ve never felt so alone before–

A foot shoots out into my rib, almost like my daughter didn’t want me to finish that thought. 

“Sorry, Lil Mama,” I chuckle.

This time, when she kicks, she’s more gentle, and I watch my stomach contract underneath my shirt.

“I love you,” I whisper, rubbing my belly. “So much.”

The peace of finally having an idea of how I’ll leave this world wars with the pain of leaving my family behind.

My little family, something we’ve both yearned for separately and together for ten years.

“I know you’ve been listening to me… just give me a day with them. All I need is a day.”

I’ve also read if you say your prayers aloud, they’re more likely to come true.

Someone’s been listening… maybe they’re listening now.