“I was passing through and remembered I needed a few things. Never mind me, how have you been? I saw you have kept all your appointments at the prenatal clinic.”
“Oh, yes, but of course. If I could, I would want Ellis checked daily,” she said with a bright smile.
My smile dimmed at the name. It wasWRONG. I wanted to wring her neck.
“Ellis?” I asked blankly.
“Yes, I named him after my Grandad. I am the last one left on my mum’s side.”
It’s close enough.
The voice snapped at me.
You're almost there.
It switched to a melodic soothing tone.
“Ellis is a fine name,” I said forcing the words out while she beamed at me oblivious to the maelstrom of emotions raging inside of me.
“Why don't I escort you to your car?” I asked, trying to get the foul taste of the name that was all wrong out of my mouth.
“Oh, no. I couldn't impose on you like that,” she said like the sweet, gullible fool I had her pinned as.
I narrowed my eyes on her and her trolley. She immediately glanced at her trolley to check her contents.
“All healthy,” she said with a smug smile.
“Yeah? And are you supposed to lift heavy items?”
Her smile faltered before her hazel eyes looked away from me.
“I don't have anyone who can help out. My family lives too far away,” she said before she bit her lip and nervously toyed with the handle of her trolley.
“I’m free and offering, Charlotte,” I said softly, itching to touch her hand.
Not yet. She isn't ready.
The voice stated the obvious.
I fucking know.
I snapped back.
“Okay,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear.
And just like that, we did our shopping together.
???
It was dark by the time we reached her car. I enjoyed her company more than I’d anticipated. She was more feisty than I’d pegged her as. It had to be the shades of red in her hair or her Irish heritage. We walked at her pace, and I remained patient since she carried precious cargo.
Between the baby aisle and the toiletries aisle, she told me how much she missed her mother. That was something I could relate to. Her mother died almost instantly from a brain aneurysm. She was with her until she took her last breath. Her words put me in a trance as I remembered Elias, unnaturally still, pale but for the dark bruising on his skin. Before I could spiral out of control, her hand reached for her belly.
“Feel, he is kicking,” she said, reaching for my hand in excitement.
My palm stretched over the thing's black material. The anguish left me as I felt his elbow or foot trying to stretch her out. I smiled, knowing my son was alive and well. He gave me two rapid taps, and I held my breath while she gasped.
“He is lively tonight,” she laughed. The tinkling noise was pleasant.
