UNBROKEN PROMISE

~78~Labour

Oma stood back a moment and looked around the room she now shared with Logan. Her small bundle of dresses, her embroidered handkerchiefs, her little wooden comb, even her favorite quilt, were all placed carefully where she liked them.

The modest chest of drawers had just enough space for both of them now. She stepped back from the wardrobe and smiled softly. There was something deeply comforting about seeing her belongings beside his, their lives finally weaving into one.

She pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and made her way toward the main house, the cold morning air pinching her cheeks and turning her breath to mist. Her boots crunched lightly over the snow covered path as she moved with a small bounce in her step.

When Oma stepped into the kitchen of the main house, it smelled of cinnamon and warm milk.

Mama Becca looked up from the counter, a mixing bowl cradled in her arm. Her face lit up the moment she saw her. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “How’re you feelin’?”

Oma brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, still getting used to the lightness in her chest. “I’m fine, Mama Becca. Slept well.”

Mama Becca’s eyes twinkled as she tilted her head, a knowing look creeping into her features. “And your night, darlin’? How was that?”

Oma’s cheeks flushed instantly. She lowered her gaze and answered quietly, “It was… fine.”

From the corner of the room, Megan let out a soft laugh. “More than fine, from the way she’s blushin’.”

“Megan!” Mama Becca chided, but even she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. She nudged Megan gently with her elbow. “Let the poor girl breathe.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Megan added with a wink, “If Logan keeps up that smile he was wearin’ this morning well be hearing baby news soon.”

Oma looked startled, eyes wide as she quickly asked, “Wait... Does that mean I'm already with child”

Mama Becca let out a warm laugh and walked over to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It don’t happen that fast, baby girl. Sometimes it does, but most times, it takes a little while. You’ll know if you miss your monthly. That’s usually the first sign.”

Oma nodded slowly, trying to take it all in. “So… if I get my monthly, it means I’m not?”

“That’s right,” Mama Becca said. “But if you don’t, and the days keep passin’, well… then it might be time to start knittin’ booties.”

The idea fluttered in Oma’s chest, nervous and uncertain, but somehow warm and golden too. She was still mulling it over, absently running her fingers over the fabric of her shawl, when Megan suddenly bent slightly at the waist, her face contorting with surprise.

“Mmm,” she said with a grunt. “Speak of the devil… oof. That one was deep.”

Mama Becca was instantly alert. “Another contraction?”

Megan nodded, rubbing her belly. “Been feelin’ them more regular since sunrise, but this one was sharper. Lower, too. I think… I think the baby’s gettin’ ready.”

Oma’s eyes widened. “Now? Already?”

“Well,” Megan said, her breath shallow, “he or she ain’t gonna send a letter ahead of time.”

Mama Becca was already wiping her hands again. “Alright then. Let’s get you off your feet, Megan. Oma, go grab some more linens from the closet. We might be meetin’ this little one sooner than we thought.”