Chapter Twelve
Today was the day ofthe Christmas party, an event that had occupied all Brenda’s waking thoughts for weeks. Yet, instead of the usual buzz of excitement, a different sensation churned in her stomach—a mix of nerves and nausea that had been plaguing her for days.
“Wait, this isn’t just nerves,” she muttered to herself, pressing a hand to her abdomen. Could she be expecting?
She quickly donned a simple dress, its fabric worn but clean, and made her way to see Hortense the midwife. The walk was short, but Brenda felt each step with a heightened sense of awareness. She rapped on the door lightly, her heart thumping louder than her knuckles against the wood.
“Come in, Brenda,” Hortense called from within.
“Morning, Hortense,” Brenda greeted, her voice betraying none of the turmoil inside her.
“Good morning, dear. You look a bit peaked. What brings you around so early?” Hortense peered at her over a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.
“I need some advice...maybe more.” Brenda hesitated, then blurted out, “I think I might be with child.”
Hortense’s eyes softened, and she took Brenda’s hands in her own. “So you think the tea did the trick. Well, let’s find out for sure, shall we?”
Hortense performed her examination. When she finally looked up, her smile was gentle but certain. “Congratulations, Brenda. You’re going to be a mama.”
A surge of excitement washed over Brenda, followed swiftly by a flood of questions. How would Seth take the news? She knew he wanted to be a father, but would he still want her to stick around once the baby was born?
“Thank you, Hortense. I—I’m not sure what to do next,” Brenda confessed, her usual confidence wavering.
“Take your time, dear. This is your news to share when you’re ready. And today, you have a party to host,” Hortense reminded her.
“Of course, the party,” Brenda said, a determined glint returning to her eye. She stood up, smoothing her skirt. “Can’t have the guest of honor looking green around the gills.”
“Go on now. And Brenda,” Hortense added, “Seth’s a good man. Whatever his preoccupations, he’ll stand by you.”
Brenda nodded, bolstered by Hortense’s words. But she needed to know where she stood with Seth—not as his wife or the mother of his child, but as Brenda.
“Thank you, Hortense. I think I’ll tell him soon. But not today.” Her tone was light but resolute. “Today’s about celebration.”
*****
ABASKET OF ORNAMENTSswung from Brenda’s arm, and the scent of roasting meat wafted on the warm Texas breeze. She brushed a stray lock of blonde hair from her forehead and set to work, ignoring the nausea.
