“Huh. And I thought the rotters would be the strangest things I’d come across from here on out.”
Whatever Addison might have replied with is cut short by her stream of vomit all over the wildflowers.
Wyatt cringes. “It’s disgusting, but it gets easier. You’ll get used to dealing with the dead.”
“It’s not that.” She presses a hand over her belly with a grimace. “This baby hates everything I eat.”
Shit. He forgot she’s pregnant, and here he is asking her to do physical labor.
“You’ve gotta keep something down,” he tries.
“Salty things. That’s it. Chips, junk food, stuff from the gas stations we looted.”
“Kid’s already got good taste. Who doesn’t like chips?”
She makes a half-amused noise, straightening up again. “Okay, I’m fine. I’m good. Let’s get back to work.”
“Nah, I got it. Take a break.”
“I said I’m fine. I’m pregnant, not missing my arms or legs. If you need help, I can do it.”
That same fire that gave her the courage to think about jumping him in the kitchen has her trying to prove something now. He won’t be the one to tell her no. If she wants to work herself into the ground, that’s her own choice.
“Grab that post and bring it over.” He shows her how to secure it so a few stray rotters won’t crumble the entire setup, but he must have been staring because she calls him out.
“You wanna ask me something? Go ahead.”
“How far? How long until there are four of us?” He nods toward her stomach that still looks flat to him.
“Two months, I think. A little more, so not far along at all. It won’t be trouble for you or any extra work. I promise. I can still pull my weight.”
“That’s not why I asked. Just curious.”
“Oh.” Her next question is softer as she points out the way he still favors his arm. “Did you put peroxide on that? There’s still some in the bathroom.”
“Cleaned it. It’ll heal. I’ve had worse.”
Before she can reply, she clutches her stomach and throws up a second time.
Is he supposed to do something? Say something? He’s got no idea how to handle someone who looks as miserable as her, and every time she dry heaves, his own stomach flips.
“I’m okay,” she gasps, looking like she hacked up a lung. “It’ll pass.”
He only nods.
They fix five panels until lunchtime rolls around, and when they get back, Emma is clutching a stuffed animal for dear life in the middle of the living room. She’s more relieved to see Addison than he’d ever been to see his own parents.
“Did you see Dad out there?” she whispers.
“No,” Addison replies.
Guess that means the husband is a real thing he’s gotta worry about. From the look of relief on the girl’s face, he gets the feeling they wouldn’t shed many tears if the bastard were dead.
Addison looks about ready to fall over after spending half the morning getting rid of everything she ate. Emma keeps staring at the kitchen like it’ll manifest a full pantry. It’s all enough to make him consider letting them in on a secret he planned to keep to himself.
One day in, and he’s already caving. What kinda selfish idiot would he be if he didn’t tell them about the second stash?
“Have you two been up to the attic yet?” he asks.
