Mistaken Consequences

Chapter 10: Twenty weeks: Part II

It was already dark by the time Vera pulled her car into the garage and let herself into the house. A couple of lamps that she had set to turn on by a timer gave off enough light to allow her to see until she reached the kitchen, carrying her to-go bag from her favourite Italian place. She set the bag on the counter before flipping on the lights and pouring herself a glass of water.

Vera didn't eat at the table as often as she probably should have. It was the only time the house felt quiet and lonely, so more often than not she took her food to her study and ate while she worked. The only reason she didn't do so now was because the room was currently a disaster of boxes and loosely sorted piles. She'd decided weeks ago to turn her study into the nursery and move her desk and shelves into the spare bedroom upstairs. It was proving to be a bigger undertaking than she'd expected.

When she was finished eating, she headed for the study. She told herself if she just did a bit each day, it would be done before she knew it, but the truth was she'd need to call in back up sooner or later. At least if she wanted to have the nursery decorated before she was nine months pregnant and ready to pop.

Immediately upon entering the room, she had to sidestep the stack of boxes where she'd been emptying her shelves and the decades' worth of books she'd collected, everything from romance novels to magical grimoires. It hurt her to do it, but at least half the boxes would be donated to a library or other organization – once they'd been checked and rechecked that the wrong kind of book hadn't made it in by mistake.

Her desk was the only thing she hadn't begun packing up yet, so she took a moment to slip the latest ultrasound picture into the corner of a picture frame, next to the first. Her gaze lingered on the three photos then, two fuzzy, black and white pictures of the daughter she carried, tucked into the edges of a frame that held her favourite picture of the daughter she'd lost.

Vera sunk into her chair, unable to look away until finally, she turned to the unboxed shelf behind her. She'd always intended to do this. She wanted her baby to know about the sister that had come before and left too soon. She'd been putting it off but now, knowing she was carrying another baby girl, it felt right.

She reached for the album without thinking. She didn't need to open it to know it was the right one. She'd spent hours working on it with her mom, before her mom had finished it for her, alone. She allowed herself a moment to run her thumb over the smooth, worn cover before looking up at the pictures of her girls and forcing a small, tight smile. She lowered a hand to cover her belly.

"How about I start telling you about our family tonight, beautiful?" she said quietly, speaking to her belly. She knew her baby, her daughter she reminded herself again, couldn't hear her yet, but Vera liked talking to her. It had made the pregnancy feel more real in those weeks before her belly had started to swell and she'd felt the first signs of life within her. It had helped her accept this as her baby and not just a consequence of her moment of stupidity.

"I'm sorry it's just going to be me and you," she said, setting the album down on the desk and flipping it to the first page. "I know several people who would have loved to meet you though."

The first page only contained an old, slightly yellowed photo of her parents on their wedding day. Her mom was beautiful. Elegant in that simple, understated way that was completely Holly Stone. Her father was standing just behind her, trying to look serious for their picture but somehow failing. There was always that mischievous glint in his eye, the slight quirk to the corner of his mouth that told he found humour in every situation. Vera wished she'd had a chance to know him.

"This is your Grandpa Vern. He died when I was still too young to really remember him, but I got to hear stories all the time. I'll tell them to you too. Grandma Holly," she said, moving her finger over to the younger image of her mother, "helped me start making this book for your sister when I was pregnant with her." They had never intended for it to end up as a memorial for those pictured inside.