Chapter 11: Paloma
The incident with Romeo has
left me frightened but I know I must go to him. "Let me go with you,"
Jake says.
"No. This is
a battle I need to fight myself." I tell him. "I'll be fine. Don't
worry....I'm only three months into my pregnancy anyway."
"Be
careful," he warns me.
"I
will." I kiss him goodbye and get into my car.
~*~
The drive to the school is long
and boring. I sing along with the radio and talk to my family on my phone,
imagine what my baby will look like, if it'll be a girl with dark hair or a boy
with light hair. I smile at the thought, hoping it'll be a girl so I can teach
her to dance. I park my car in the parking lot and quietly go inside to the room
where Madame Danielle taught. Sure enough, there she is. She smiles brightly to
see me. "Paloma! My darling! Have you come back to dance?" I'm sure
she's unaware that her son, her precious baby, raped me in this very room.
"No, Madame,
I am, as most of you already know, pregnant. This is the very room your son,
Madame, raped me in. But this is not his child. Do you know where I can find
your son?"
She looks shocked.
"Oh, Paloma, forgive me, I did not know. He is in his room."
"Thank
you." I say, and walk out of the now silent room.
I find Romey in his bed,
looking forlorn and lost, not the arrogant, handsome, muscular dancer man I
remember. "Paloma! Have you come back to me?"
"No. Romey,
look at me for the last time. You deserve what you get, and I hope you haven't
done what you did to me to some other naive girl. You won't ever see the
child....even if it isn't yours. I never want to see you again. Ever."
He sighs.
"But I looove you."
"So what? I
don't love you."
"You could
learn."
"NO!" I
shout, and run out, slamming the door behind me.
~*~
The baby inside me is growing larger every day. I'm allowed to do small dance exercises until I'm in my 5th month. Jake is always there, wondering if I'm okay, if I need anything. The months pass quickly, and soon my baby is due any day. I'm uncomfortable and irritable, and I spend my time choreographing ballet. It's February 14th, Valentine's Day, when I go into labor and I'm rushed to the hospital.
"Things don't look so good,"
the doctor says. "It will be difficult for Paloma as she's so young. We may
have to do a C-section."
"Will they
both be okay?"
"They should
be."
"Anything....just don't let anything happen," Jake pleads. "We'll
stay here as long as we need to."
The doctor leaves
the room and Jake sits by me, smoothing my hair. "You'll be okay. Don't
worry."
"Oh, Jake...I
can't do this. I can't," I cry.
"Just think
about the baby....the baby. You can teach the baby to dance. Think about that.
You can pursue your dance career again, maybe run a dance school."
"Yes..."
I say.
"Okay,
Paloma, okay. Now push. Hard." The doctor comes back into the room.
"This is the critical time."
I brace myself but
push with all my might. I try to hold back my screams but I can't keep them in.
"Just one more. C'mon, honey..." he says. I give one final push and
fall back with exhaustion when the baby leaves me.
"It's a
girl!" The doctor announces, holding a small, dark-haired baby girl,
screaming her lungs out.
"Oh my
God," I whisper. The nurses weigh her and do all the necessary things, and
then they return her to me. "She's perfect."
"She is. What
are you going to name her?" Jake asks as I study the little features almost
identical to mine. "She looks exactly like you."
"Her name is
going to be Andrea. Andrea Hope. But I'm going to call her Angel."
"That's
exactly what she is," Jake agrees, and we sit there for a while, looking at
our precious baby girl.
~*~
"Where's my
granddaughter?" a loud, male voice with Irish tones almost yells. I look up
to see a tall, muscular man with dark blue eyes and brown hair. I know instantly
who it is.
"Oh my God.
Pappa?"
"It's me,"
he says. "Martin Fitzgerald. You didn't ever notice, did you? Your math
teacher? Martin Franklin? At Juilliard?"
"No. Never.
Oh my God! Does Mamma know you're back? Or Luis? Miguel? Theresa? Have you seen
their kids?"
"No. You
mean, I have more than one grandchild?" He walks up to me and looks down at
Angel, sleeping in my arms. "Congratulations. Looks like you when you were
born."
"She does,"
I agree.
"Congratulations to you, young man. Martin Fitzgerald."
"Jacob
Standish." Jake shakes my father's hand and returns to his chair.
"May I
come... oh Lord." Mamma takes one look at my father and runs to him.
"Martin! Martin! Oh, Martin!" He catches her and swings her around.
"My Pilar
Lopez! My Spanish Rose!" He whoops, and they kiss. "I had to leave.
The Cranes were going to take everything from us if I didn't."
"Do you know
of Antonio?"
"No. I heard
from him once, and he was a successful manager of a stock company in New York.
He'd seen Paloma dance."
The rest of my
family comes in and Luis just about jumps into Pappa's arms. Katie and Noah hide
their faces shyly behind Sheridan's legs, but my father smiles at them.
"Hello. I'm your grandpa. Who are you?"
"I'm
Noah!" Noah says proudly. "That's my sister, Katie. She looks like my
mommy. That's my mommy."
"Hello, Noah.
Miss Katie, how are you?"
"Fine,"
she says softly, her blonde hair waving. Charity and Miguel open the door, their
twins, Skylar and Aiden, in their arms. Aiden carries his toy phone for talking
to his "sweeties" in his plump one-and-a-half year old arms. Everyone is
so busy hugging and kissing, the kids, Skylar, Aiden, Katie, Noah, Theresa and
Ethan's Tyler and Emily, playing on the floor, my father talking to his
grandchildren, everyone cooing over Angel, at last, at last, I'm finally happy.
I smile at Jake. "Isn't life wonderful?"
"Yes, it
is." He smiles back and me and we look at my mother, gazing at her
granddaughter and smiling.
"Hey, Aiden,
who you talking to?" Miguel asks, looking proudly at his twins.
"Sweeties!" Aiden cries.
"The ladies'
man!" Pappa says. "Gets that from his dad and his uncle."
"And his
grandfather," Mamma says. She hugs him and we all look at each other, a
family again.