Leapling: Part 1
In a waiting room in Boston, a man paced the carpeted floors, occasionally sipping on the coffee, now barely lukewarm, in an attempt to calm his nerves. It didn't work. Then again, he supposed that any man in his situation wouldn't have been any less agitated. The constant reminder of where he was by the way health brochures were strewn about the room and the added fact that it was so quiet did not calm him.
He and Jessica, his wife, had been trying out for a baby for years now. After three miscarriages and a stillborn, Jacob Gerhard was more than ready to be a father. He had sworn and vowed and promised to all the gods he could think of that if the next child that Jess conceived came out healthy and safe, he would love them both, unconditionally. In fact it was an unnecessary pledge. Jess was the woman of his dreams; kind, loving, beautiful and ever so willing to forgive his mistakes, which he strived to make sure were far and few in between but wasn't necessarily successful. And there was no question that he would love his baby; the child whom Jess was struggling to deliver not six theatres away. He would dote on her and shower her with all the love he could possibly give. His work would become secondary now; no matter how much pressure his boss placed upon him. Jacob knew how much Jessica worried about him; he sometimes came home sweaty, dirty and bruised from his struggles at work. He never told her the truth about who he was working for or what he did but he suspected his wife had a blurry picture of it. He was always quick to reassure her every morning though that he would be fine, that he would return to her alive every evening.
He heard the door slide open and then a male voice. "Mr. Gerhard?"
Hope - and panic - rendered him temporarily speechless so he just turned and solemnly nodded at the male nurse.
A smile slowly graced the young man's lips. "They're both fine, sir. Mrs. Gerhard wants you to come and see your daughter."
Relief - immense relief that almost had him dropping to his knees, crying and thanking God - washed over him and for a second, the cool exterior that had managed not to betray his genuine emotions, melted and he let out a shaky breath. Following the nurse, who clapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him - words he hardly registered because his brain was still working off the lingering numbness - he entered the operation theatre. His nostrils were sudenly overwhelmed with the smell of blood and and the reeking stench that came with hospitals. All this he pushed away, however. His wife lay in the middle of the room, propped up by two pillows and holding their child.
Jacob's heart skipped a beat. She was beautiful. There was no other word for the newborn that lay in his Jessica's arms.
He approached the bed with timid, hesitant steps. Jessica beamed at him as she saw him come close and Jacob was awed at how she glowed, even after going through the tiresome task of giving birth. Carefully, she turned the baby so that the newborn faced Jacob.
"Hey, little Dyllan, say hi to your Daddy." She cooed.
"Jess, could I..." He was surprised at how choked up he sounded.
Jessica smiled and beckoned him to come closer so that she could transfer their daughter into his arms.
Dyllan. That was the name they had chosen the day they found out it was a girl. The names changed with each unfortunate incident that caused them to lose their baby. Dyllan sounded strong and although it had been meant for a boy, Jacob had fallen in love with it the moment it had rolled off his tongue.
"Little Dyllan, Daddy's little girl."
He liked how that sounded.
And across the Pacific in a small, private operation theatre much like the one he was standing in, a baby boy was being cleaned up and wrapped in warm blue blankets.
"We're calling him Alex." A sharp, authoritarian voice announced. "Have that on his birth certificate and we expect to collect him in a week."
The doctor in charge of the delivery sighed as the father of the child walked away and the mother rolled off to a ward to rest. His focus shifted to baby Alex, eyes shut and breathing steadily. It looked so... innocent. So helpless and adorable. What man would give up the chance to hold the child for a second?
Prosperous and heartless businessmen who probably never had the intention of having a child in the first place, that's who, a bitter inner voice answered.
He shook his head. The child wasn't his and if his father had heard him, he would have probably asked the doctor to mind his damn business. Still, a flicker of pity ignited in his weary and old heart and his last words to the nurse before he punched out, was to give the best care to the boy before his parents 'collected' him. The nurse promised and the doctor left the hospital, feeling that he had done the best he could.
The boy's first week of life was probably the most loving one he would have ever had throughout his childhood, not that he knew it. What he also wouldn't know until almost five years later, was that he had been destined for greater things than a Lamborghini for his seventeenth birthday and a potential scholarship to Eton through his shallow parents and their various connections.
But then again, you live life through every second, no matter how gruelling and brutal it may be and it would take little Alex a long time before he would discover yet another reason to live.