Now I’m crying. Crap.
Shit.
Sulli squeezes my hand.
I squeeze tighter.
“Fuck,” I curse out loud, weight crushing my lungs. Banks is right. I could stop thinking about my dad. I could just push back his voice and forget what he’d tell me. What he’d caution me to do. And then maybe I’d stop encountering this seven-ton feeling.
But then I’d stop encountering him.
“What was he like as a dad?” Sulli wonders. “You don’t have to answer if it’s too fucking hard.”
She’s sweet to ask.
I think of him. I picture him slapping down the brim of my baseball cap, then lifting it up. I see his benevolent smile and his hand that opens to a Swedish Fish. “Playful. Thoughtful.”
Feeling this pain, I’m compelled to just close off. Say goodbye. Be the best dad that I can be. Not one who’d bring Banks and Sulli to the floor with me. I feel selfish in my emotion. Especially while Sulli is pregnant.
Shit.
I rub at the tear streaks on my face. “I’m okay.” I inhale. Exhale. Inhale.
“Positive?” Banks asks like he knows I need another second.
“Yeah.” I’m already standing up.
He slips me a hard look with the shake of his head.
I slip him one back. “I’m fine.”
“Alright.”
Sulli and Banks are on their feet with me.
“We’re a fucking mess,” Sulli says, rubbing her nose on the bottom of her shirt.
“Hey, we’re put-together,” I say. “Stronger than ever. Resilient.” And yeah, I’m not staring at my blotchy face in the mirror. I’d rather fling myself out of this reality and into the one I want to be true. “We can do this. The three of us.”
Banks cracks a fleeting smile. “Give-no-fucks Akara is drunk on hope.”
“Akara 2.0, baby.” All I want is to keep the three of us together.
“Baby,” Sulli sighs heavily, remembering the biggest issue at hand. “So what if it’s not a mistake? To have the baby?”
I let out a breath. “Then you have the baby. We’ll handle the security risks.”
“No one can know while she’s at the Olympics,” Banks tells me.
100%.
Her pregnancy has to remain a secret. “Only her family and security know now, so it shouldn’t be a prob—”
“Can we forget about security for like one fucking second?” Sulli interjects and kicks the yoga ball away. “Because this is so different than when I took Plan B.”
Banks goes rigid.
I try to read his face as she says, “We don’t know the dad, and what happens when one of you realizes you’re not the biological father?”
My stomach somersaults. I’m terrified of a scenario where Banks isn’t the dad. I love this triad. I love what we built here, and I know what it feels like to lose it.
We’re all equals, but if the baby is mine and Sulli’s—I don’t want that to change how Banks feels towards us. Like he’s on the outside of the picket fence and looking in through the window. I want him to stay.
But just like he couldn’t make me stay. I can’t make him.
“We’re together as a family. All three of us,” I tell Sulli and also Banks, in case he needs to hear. “It doesn’t matter who the biological dad is.”
“Yeah, I think Akara is right,” Banks says. “Right now that doesn’t matter as much as your health and the baby’s health. We can deal with everything else when it comes.” He nods to Sulli. “So what do you say? You wanna have this baby, mermaid?”
With a big inhale, Sulli looks from me to Banks. “If I think about what I want and not what scares me, I know the answer.” And she proclaims, “I want to have this baby with both of you. And I want to be proud when we do.”
We will be.
Banks and I express that sentiment, and we find ourselves hugging each other. Banks has his arms around us while somehow my arms are around them. Sulli tries to un-sandwich herself to hug us, but we’ve really melded her between our bodies.
“About the health stuff. I texted Farrow after I told Thatcher I was pregnant,” she explains in our huddle. “He’s going to take me to a women’s clinic. Since tomorrow are qualifying heats to advance to semifinals, the appointment is the next morning after. In case you both want to be there.”
“We’ll be there,” Banks says.
“On time and everything,” I assure.
Farrow knew, I suddenly realize. He knew she was pregnant sometime during the security meeting. And he didn’t let on.
How did Sulli even get the pregnancy test? Not a lot goes unnoticed between me and Banks, but that did.
Sulli tells us, “Farrow said he’d confirm the pregnancy and make sure everything is okay. It could be a false positive.”
Could be. Am I happy? Sad?
I think we’re all wading in a place of unrest. So the three of us make a pact not to get our hopes up one way or the other. The day after tomorrow, we’ll have our answer.
GBANewYork.com – July 22nd
Sullivan Meadows Advances to Six Semifinals: 200m & 400m Freestyle & Individual Medley, plus 100m Medley Relay & Mixed Relay
Sullivan Meadows displayed total dominance in the freestyle tonight. She set a new Olympic record, a record she previously set, by finishing first in qualifiers with a time of 3:38:23 for 400m freestyle. Showcasing her overall skills, she also clenched heats for individual medley and will be swimming in both 200m and 400m IM semifinals. What really stood out was Meadows’ teamwork, as she helped Team USA advance in both relays.
Tune in tomorrow night to see whether Meadows can keep her winning streak alive.
12
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
“I’m Roger Knolls, your Olympic commentator. Women’s semifinals for swimming are happening later tonight, Pacific Time here in Los Angeles.” The fifty-something well-spoken GBA (Global Broadcasting Association) anchor has salt-and-pepper hair, horned-rimmed glasses, and a handful of notes, but he’s seated on a white plush chair. Not behind a desk.
The camera pans outward to reveal a second “conversational” chair. Occupied by my childhood idol. Appearing dapper for press, a couple buttons are popped on his white button-down, and his armpiece tattoo peeks out of the rolled sleeves.
Kingly smiles at the camera. Charismatic. A fucking natural. A tiny twinge of jealousy rises. If I were that affable in front of a lens, maybe I’d agree to press segments too.
Roger continues, “Sitting down with me to take a look at the women’s prospects for Team USA is none other than Tobias Kingly.” He turns to Kingly. “Eight-time gold medalist and world record holder for the men’s 400m butterfly and freestyle, and that’s just a condensed list of your many accolades.”
He laughs a little. “It took a lot of hard work, sacrifice, training. And I’m just hoping to do my best here in L.A., Roger, and hopefully that means a few more golds.”
“We’re hoping so too.” They laugh lightly together.