The Drazen World: Irrelevant (Kindle Worlds Novella) (7 page)
Read The Drazen World: Irrelevant (Kindle Worlds Novella) Online
Authors: Allyn Lesley
“One last push. Come on, you can do it.”
I look ahead into the determined eyes of my doctor and grunt through a contraction despite what I learned in the Lamaze classes Jon dragged me to.
“Come on, baby. It’s time for us to meet our little boy.”
I force my head off the pillow, gather the last bit of strength I really don’t feel I have, and bear down, grunting some more, grimacing a lot, as another contraction hardens my stomach. I crush Jon’s fingers, squeezing them, while I cry out in pain as another contraction rips through my body. Then there’s relief. Relief that it’s over.
I flop backward, tired and weak. Something’s on top of my stomach, and I realize it’s my son, but there’s only silence from him. No movements. No cries.
“Jon.” Tears spill from my eyes as I realize that I’ve birthed another dead baby. “Jon.” I lift up my head just as my baby is whisked off my stomach by a nurse. I can only hear the sounds of fast walking. I still don’t hear the usual newborn cries. “Jon. What’s going on?”
His fingers tighten around mine in a near bone-crushing grip. Neither of us says anything, but I feel his concern. I hear his unstated worries.
Not another loss. I can’t take it.
I won’t survive this one.
Just then, I hear the sweet sound of a newborn’s cries echoing throughout the birthing room.
“He’s all right, Katie. Our son is okay.” He takes our bundled baby who is pressed into his waiting hands.
“What about his toes and fingers?”
“See for yourself.”
As soon as the tiny body settles against my heart, he stops squirming. Then I remember the made-up story I used to tell myself about my own birth. I do what my mother didn’t get the chance to do. I count his ten toes and kiss his ten fingers. I marvel at the copper tuft of hair so like his father’s and the eyes that, at first glance, appear hazel but may turn green like his dad’s.
“He’s both of us,” Jon tells me at the side of my bed. “What shall we call him, Mrs. Drazen?”
I smile at my new name. Our wedding was a total surprise. I thought we were going to dinner, but Jon had other plans. No one was there but the priest and us. But I’ll never forget that afternoon. I walked down the aisle with a single hazel-colored Aster toward a proud Jon.
“So, what shall we call him?” he asks, bringing me out of my head.
I’ve given this a lot of thought since finding out we were having a son. “The best namesake I know. Jonathan S. Drazen IV.” I finger his tiny fist. “Welcome to your family.” My son will never know what it’s like to be surrounded by people who share his blood but hate him. As long as there’s breath in my body, he’ll never walk around feeling inadequate.
“He likes his name,” Jon tells me as we both listen to our child’s soft cooing sounds. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
***
I can’t believe the number of people here.
From my place at the podium,
I look around at the unfamiliar faces gathered inside Books & Other Things who are here to enjoy the bookstore’s weekly “Spend Your Night With ... ” series, which features up-and-coming authors.
A blown-up picture of my book,
A Boy with No Name,
sits on an easel beside me. It’s largely fictionalized, but bits of my life and pieces of Jon’s are woven into the love story about a boy and a girl who were saved by love. It’s not a bestseller, and I’m not a household name, but I’m enjoying the new career I haphazardly uncovered while I breastfed JJ, my son. I look down at my watch one last time. Jon promised he’d be here.
I adjust the microphone, stalling, but I’m out of time. The nerves get the better of my stomach muscles, causing them to quiver.
I can do this.
With more confidence than I feel, I step forward and open my book. When I look back out at the crowd, my biggest cheerleader, Jon, sits front and center, mouthing, “I love you.”
“Me too,” I mouth back. I clear my throat. “There once lived a boy with no name who fell in love with a girl who was irrelevant.”
I never thought I’d be anything but irrelevant, but I’m now a wife, a mother, and a woman with knowledge about my self-worth. Had Jon not offered me his audacious job proposal, I probably would have never found the love of my life.
THE END
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allyn lesley writes real stories about real people.
As a teen, allyn lost herself in the pages of some of romance’s heavyweights, trusting a happy ever after was just around the corner. In allyn’s own writing journey, as in life, she’s learned people don’t always experience recovery and restoration after a fall. Her stories speak to the gritty side of life, where the right choice isn’t always easily identified and happiness not quickly gained.
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