Carl Weber - Baby Momma Drama

“I’m sorry. Hi, Monica, how you feeling?” I replied quickly, making sure to keep any trace of attitude out of my tone. I didn’t wanna fight with her. I had more important things to do. And she obviously knew what I was there for, ’cause once I acknowledged her, she gave me what I wanted: a view of the baby.

“I’m all right, I suppose.” She sat up and loosened the blanket from around the baby. I swear, my heart felt lighter in my chest when she exposed the small, brown face. I know it’s not scientific, but that baby’s dark pigment meant the world to me. Oh, I knew there was still the possibility that the baby could be Jordan’s, but now the odds were considerably in my favor. I smiled softly at the beautiful child.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” I mumbled.

“A boy. His name is Davon.”

“A boy… a boy. I always wanted a son.” I was choked up. “Can I hold him?”

“Okay. Just be careful.”

I pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, arms outstretched. Monica placed Davon gently in my arms and I cradled his tiny body close to mine. My heart was pounding till it felt like it would burst. He had to be the most gorgeous baby I’d ever seen. It was love at first sight. I didn’t wanna ever let him go. Sadly, as I gazed at this beautiful child, reality set in.

“Is he healthy? I mean, he doesn’t have that shit in him, does he?”

“I don’t think so,” Monica answered honestly. “I mean, I haven’t been getting high lately, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You haven’t been getting high?” I made sure she heard my disbelief. “You broke outta rehab four times to get high. And now you expect me to believe you just stopped using? Please, Monica. Do I look stupid?”

She actually looked insulted! But I didn’t care. Somebody had to be straight with her. There was no reason to avoid the issue now. In fact, with Davon here, it seemed even more important to face it.

“I just did thirty days in the Petersburg jail for having drugs during that raid. How the hell did you expect me to get high?” she tried to explain. But I wasn’t about to let her off so easy.

“You can get drugs in jail. You think I don’t know that?”

“Yeah, you can get high if you got money. I didn’t even have money for cigarettes, so I damn sure wasn’t getting high.”

I let the issue drop for now. That was her story, and it looked like she was stickin’ to it. I made a mental note to ask the doctor later if the baby was checked for drugs in his system.

“Well, let’s hope the other eight months you were getting high doesn’t affect him…” I kissed the baby, suddenly sorry for the life he would have to lead with Monica as his mother. “So, you’re probably gonna get high the second you get outta here, aren’t you? I bet you wish you could get a hit right now.” She looked away, answering my question without saying a word. “You’re pathetic, Monica. You know that?”

“Look, I didn’t ask you to come here and lecture me, Dylan. So just gimme my baby and get the hell outta here.” She pointed at the door.

“You want me to leave?”

“You don’t understand English? Yes, I want you to leave.” She raised her voice and looked at me like I was stupid.

“Keep it down, Monica,” I warned her. I felt bad for the other couple, who had suddenly become silent. Our drama was definitely intruding on their happy little family moment.

“Okay, I’ll leave,” I whispered. “All you gotta do is tell me the truth. Is Davon my son? ’Cause if he is, you ain’t getting rid of me. I’m not gonna abandon my child. You know me better than that.”

Monica’s expression relaxed, but she still didn’t answer me. She wouldn’t even make eye contact. I repeated the question.

“Is the baby mine, Monica?”

“I don’t know,” she said sadly. “I hope so. ’Cause Jordan’s ass ain’t worth a shit.”

“Damn. This is bullshit, Monica. What the fuck happened to you? You weren’t like this when me met.” I was trying to keep my voice down, but it was getting harder to keep my emotions in check. Luckily for everyone in the room, we were interrupted by a knock on the door.

“I heard you wanted to see me, Ms. Cooper. How you feeling?” A short, balding white man wearing a lab coat walked into the room.

“I’m doing all right, Dr. Benson. Just a little tired,” Monica answered.

“How are your stitches?”

“A little sore.”

“Well, that’s to be expected. I’ll see if I can get you something for mat.” The doctor turned and smiled at me kindly. “And who is this young man holding the baby? Is he the father?”

All of a sudden, Monica was speechless. The Monica I once knew would have been totally embarrassed to be in the situation she was in now. I guess she still had a little pride left, ’cause she was not about to admit she couldn’t name the father of her child. I didn’t give a shit about her pride. I answered the doctor.

“That’s up in the air, doc. We’re still trying to sort that out.”

I expected a disapproving look from the doctor, but I guess he’d seen it all before.

“Well, if it’s a matter of paternity,” he suggested, “we can give you a simple swab test here and take care of that. It’ll take a couple of days to get the results, but by the time Monica’s released, you should know.”

I didn’t bother to ask for Monica’s opinion. My only concern was finding out for sure about this beautiful child in my arms. I needed to know if I was his father, so I could start making plans.

“Sounds good to me, doc. When can we do it?”

“Just let me finish my rounds and then I’ll be back with some consent forms. We can do it this morning if you’re both in agreement.” His eyes moved from me to Monica. She nodded her approval, though she refused to make eye contact with me or the doctor.

“Okay, then. I’ll be back in a little while.” The doctor turned and left us alone. I’m sure the happy couple was relieved that Monica and I didn’t speak at all until the doctor came back to give us the test that would determine the course of the rest of my life.

I stepped off the elevator and into the maternity ward of the hospital, carrying a car seat in one hand and my paternity papers in the other. Joe’s new friend Carol was sitting at the nurses’ station. I gave her a smile and a warm hello. She didn’t respond, though. Matter of fact, she actually frowned when we made eye contact. I ignored her and walked past the station toward Monica’s room. I guess her date with Joe last night must not have gone too well. I wasn’t gonna let that bother me, though. Especially since, after three painful days of waiting, I’d finally received the paternity results proving Davon was my son.

“Excuse me, Dylan?” I turned around and saw Carol. She had come from the station and was standing in the corridor.

“Were you calling me?”

“Yes, I was.” She hesitated. “I just wanted to tell you she’s not there.”

“What are you talking about? Who’s not there?”

“Ms. Cooper. She’s not in her room. She checked out a few hours ago.”

“Monica checked out?” I froze. Carol nodded.

“Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. She left with an older man, but I don’t think they knew each other very well.”

“Why’s that?”

“When he came to ask for her, he didn’t know her last name.”

“And you let her leave with him? They’re probably going somewhere to smoke crack. What’s wrong with you people?”

“We can’t tell patients who they can and cannot leave with. The only thing we require is a release from the doctor and a car seat for the baby.”

“Car seat for the baby! Oh, my God! Please, tell me my son’s still here. Please.” I held my breath and said a prayer as I waited for her answer. When she didn’t respond quickly enough, I ran straight to the nursery. I looked in every single bassinet they had, but couldn’t find my son. I finally stopped dead in my tracks when I looked up at the big board they had on the wall. My son’s name had a black mark through it and discharge written in red.