“Oh,” the pregnant woman said, waving the clerk away when she held it out. “No, please. I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”
“In your condition, you shouldn’t be soaking wet.” The shopkeeper pushed the blanket toward her more insistently. “It’s no big deal. Really.”
An expression I couldn’t read crossed the pregnant woman’s face, making it seem almost like she was irritated by the gesture. It was quickly gone, though, then she was smiling as she took the blanket and began to dry herself off.
“I’ll pay for it, of course.”
The shopkeeper tried to hide her hopeful expression by waving her hand but didn’t quite manage it. “It’s no big deal. Really.”
“I insist,” the woman said as she got to work on her hair, which was dripping.
Her eyes darted around, taking in the other items in the store as she rubbed the blanket over her head, then got to work on the rest of her. There was a pretty significant puddle under her feet by then, and while part of me wanted to point it out, another part wanted to cling to my anonymity since neither woman seemed aware of my presence.
“What a lovely store,” the pregnant woman said in her southern drawl as she finished soaking the majority of water from her hair and clothes. “I don’t know why I haven’t been here before.”
The shopkeeper flushed. “I know it’s a big risk right now considering the economy, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Have my own store.” Her eyes flicked to the other woman’s round stomach. “I mean, focusing on a career just seemed smart, considering I can’t…” She trailed off then looked away, her cheeks red.
The pregnant woman didn’t acknowledge the shopkeeper’s discomfort, and instead began to explore the store, picking up first a small pink clutch then a bracelet. She made sounds of admiration as she examined the items before setting them down and selecting a pair of earrings. They were big, pink, and gaudy in my opinion, but the pregnant woman acted like they were the most beautiful things she’d ever seen.
“You like them?” the shopkeeper asked hopefully.
“They’re adorable!” the other woman exclaimed.
The store’s owner rushed to grab a small basket, her cheeks flushed and her smile bright. “In case you need this.”
The pregnant woman returned her smile. “Thank you!”
I stayed in the shadows, watching the woman shop, the owner hovering over her while the rain fell. They seemed unaware of my presence, which was fine by me, because I was having a good time observing. Every item the store owner picked up was the pregnant woman’s new favorite, and as the minutes passed, her basket grew fuller. She bought things at random. Earrings, bracelets, rings, and necklaces, but also purses and shawls and even decorative notebooks and pens. She filled one basket, and then another, then chatted with the owner as the thrilled womanrang her up. When the shopkeeper tried to gift her the blanket she’d used to dry off, the pregnant woman insisted on paying for it, saying she loved the color and probably would have bought it anyway. Since it was pink and the woman seemed to favor the color, I had a feeling she wasn’t lying.
The owner was bagging the newly purchased items when the rain began to let up, and the two women were still chatting when it stopped completely, which I took as my cue to leave. I slipped outside, grateful for the distraction while also reeling at how much money the pregnant woman had spent. Hundreds of dollars. It was nuts. I didn’t know anyone, not even Trevor, who could afford to throw away so much money on useless items. Who was this woman and where had her money come from?
It was a mystery, one that would probably never be solved, but that was okay. It had distracted me from my shitty day, and for that, I was grateful.
Rain dripped from buildings and trees as I headed home, hitting me and plinking into the puddles that had collected in dips in the sidewalk and street. The sky was still dark, but a sliver of blue was visible in the distance, telling me the storm was moving out. It was also muggier than it had been, and the air was thick with the scent of rain. I inhaled as I walked, savoring the smells. I’d always loved the earthy scent that lingered after a spring storm, and more than ever, it soothed me. It was peaceful, fresh, and familiar, which was welcome after the events of the day.
Arriving to the silence of my apartment, I stopped just inside the door, torn about what to do next. Work was a possibility. It was still early, after all, and focusing on my accounts might serve as a distraction. But the idea of going there and pretending everything was normal when it was anything but sounded awful. Not that being alone sounded good, either. It would give me too much time to think. Too much time to dwell on what might happen and what could have been if the world were a different place.
Wanting to distract myself, I flipped on the television and began streaming my favorite old sitcom, turning it up so I would be able to hear the dialogue no matter where I was in the apartment,then I started cleaning. The voices of the characters followed me as I wiped down the kitchen cabinets and countertops, making me smile and keeping me from thinking about anything else. Episode after episode played while I scrubbed every inch of my small apartment, and I glanced at the clock each time the ending credits rolled so I could gauge how much longer I had before I could head to Trevor’s. Noon passed, then two o’clock as the characters navigated love and life at what was supposed to be a normal paper company but was often more of a caricature of a workplace. I cleaned the living room then moved to the bathroom, then dusted and tidied my bedroom. When that was done and I still had a couple hours to kill, I started going through my closet, analyzing each and every item for usefulness then reorganizing everything I decided to keep. Definitelynotthinking about how the clothes might not fit me in a few months.
Sixteen
Since most of the offices in the Health Department building had shut for the day, the parking lot was practically empty when I pulled into a space on Wednesday night. The lobby, too, was abandoned when I made it inside. There was no greeter and no people heading for meetings or appointments, and all the security guards had apparently gone home for the day as well, leaving the Department of Fertility soldier on his own.
Inwardly, I groaned at the sight of him, but kept my expression neutral as I headed his way. While he was never what anyone would call rigid, he was more relaxed this evening than the other times I’d seen him, and even looked almost bored. He sat by the elevator in a plastic chair, his right foot propped up on his left knee, his automatic weapon at his side, and a tablet in his hand.
“Here for group?” he asked, his tone light.
“Is there another reason to be here at six o’clock in the evening?”
My impatient tone must have amused him because he smirked before looking down at the tablet. “Name?”
“Ara Murphy,” I said, then corrected myself. “Arabella.”
“Arabella,” he repeated, his focus on the tablet as he typed in my name. “There you are.”
He was cuter than I’d first thought, with his square jaw and stubbled chin. Almost ruggedly handsome. Not that I wasinterested.
“You’re the last to arrive.” He looked up, grinning. “You know where to go?”
