Lewis laid on her bed in her room, her arm over her face, the lights off and the stereo playing softly. It was a mix tape of songs from the radio that Patch's little sister had sent to Heather. She felt like crap and her butt still hurt from dancing and walking around the summer-fest that Patch had found driving back. That was before last night, when she felt tough enough to go upstairs to the Fourth Floor and ended up getting body slammed onto the tile for her trouble.
In her defense, she did win when she'd kicked her opponent in the stomach with both feet hard enough to make him projectile vomit, then squirmed around in the mess to get him in a choke hold and choke him out.
It was Monday, and Lewis was still on sick leave. Her room-mates, on the other hand, had left at 4AM carrying all their gear. Heather had told Lewis not to wait up and waved as they went out the door.
A knock at the door made Lewis groan.
"Go. Away," Lewis called out.
The door opened, making Lewis sit up slightly, propping herself up on her elbows. She could have sworn the door was locked.
"I am tasked with bringing you lunch, Roberta Lewis, and thus bring you lunch I shall," A woman's voice said. Lewis frowned at the weird sing-song lilt in her voice.
"I'm not hungry," Lewis said, flopping back on her bed. "Go away," Lewis put her arm back over her eyes.
"My Aodan tasked me with ensuring that you eat," The voice said. "One such as you shall not bar me from completing tasks he has set."
"Who the hell is Aodan?" Lewis asked.
"You know him as Sergeant Anthony Stillwater, but he will always be my rosag, my little Aodan," The woman said.
"Crap," Lewis said. She moved her arm and looked up.
The woman was wearing pregnancy BDU's, the ones where the pants had the elastic front and the tops had no lower pockets and were designed to flare outward. Her belly stuck out almost accusingly, the food tray in her hands mostly eclipsed by her belly.
Lewis sat up to actually get a look at the other woman.
She was short, five foot at the most, petite looking, with a heart shaped face, wide expressive green eyes, and naturally curly red hair pulled back in bun. She was smiling, like she knew a secret about Lewis, as she looked down. Instead of sew-on nametags she was wearing her Class-A pin-on nametag, which read "Lane" on it.
"Weren't you at the mandatory fun day?" Lewis asked.
"Yes. I played with the children and amused them after I recovered those who were more lost than they knew," She said. She held out the tray and Lewis took it reflexively.
On the tray was a plate with fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans with bacon bits on them, and peaches. A can of cold root beer sat where the glass would normally go, and the silverware was wrapped in a napkin.
"May I sit?" The other woman asked.
"Sure," Lewis said. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she smelled the food.
The other woman barely moved the bed as she sat down, then leaned back to rest on her elbows.
"The child is heavy and eager to be born. She is most active today," Lane said, sighing.
"Are you OK?" Lewis asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
Lane smiled, revealing small teeth that made Lewis wonder if she just never grew adult teeth and got stuck with her baby teeth all her life.
YOU ARE READING
Third Person - Complete
Historical FictionPFC James Roberts just wanted to serve his country, like his father and grandfather. He left his middle class life to join the military with the hope of making his family proud. Graduating top of his class in Basic Training, attending Advanced Indiv...
