Bird Song

Chapter 3

A/N Thank you for reading! Love it or hate it, let me know what you think. 

        After church I spent a few hours reading outside before heading to Selma's house for lunch. We made it a point to have lunch together every Sunday. The only time I didn't join her for lunch was the first Sunday of the month when the Rodgers and Goddards got together as a family. I have an open invitation to join them, I've even gone a few times, but I never really feel like I fit in.

Most of the time after we ate, we would garden, but Selma had decided not to plant anything this autumn. Selma was almost more excited about my pregnancy than I was. The moment she heard that I was pregnant, she'd ordered a bunch of “how to knit” books. They arrived just a few weeks ago, and we were both still trying to figure it out.

“Did ye hear about Tom? He was out fishin' and drinkin' with Barry on Toney Lake last night. Word is they got into a fight over who'd caught more fish, and they flipped the boat! Nearly drowned, the both of 'em, but some kids from North Brighton were out there too, an' they hauled 'em in. Crazy huh?”

“Better they had left him to drown,” I avoided Selma's gaze, already knowing what was coming.

“Ye can't be sayin' things like that. I know he weren't always there for ye but, he's still your Da love,” a sad look came over her face. Selma and her brother Gideon Farlaw Jr. had lived in Ireland up until ten years ago, when their parents had been killed by the Irish Republican Army during the Northern Bank robbery.

“I'm sorry Sel. I know it's important to you, but I just can't find room in my heart for him,” frustrated, I threw my pitiful attempt at knitting a sock to the floor, “Not once, not once has he tried to reach out to me over the years. Where was he when mom got sick? Where was he when I was crying because I thought George had died? Where was he!” Selma remained silent, picking up my knitting and rolling the mess of yarn.

“I'm sorry,” I mumbled, “I don't know what's wrong with me. I know you and Richard are trying to have a baby, but you're not missing out with this hormone bullshit. I'm crying all the time. It sucks.”

“I know love,” she said, standing to give me a hug, “I'm sorry too. It's the time of year, I always miss me Ma and Da more right now. That doesn't mean I should try and push ye though.”

By the time I left Selma's, we were both laughing and giggling like we were still fifteen. I looked at my watch and did some quick math; I usually left her place by three, but today we lost track of time, and it was almost five. More sleep, I finally decided, and headed back to my room.

Changing shifts with Meadow Monastra was infinitely more pleasant than with Darcy. Meadow's daughter, Amber is my age, but we were never very close. Amber and I both began working at The Pit Stop several years ago. She worked the gas pumps, but when we got the automatic pumps last year, she moved in with her Uncle Adam in Potter. I didn't exactly miss her, but she had been someone my own age to hang out with at work.

“Hey Meadow,” I said, walking into the kitchen, “busy day or no?”

“It was actually pretty busy today, all my customers gave good tips. I hope you have the same luck hun,” she smiled and started untying her apron.

“How's Amber doing in the city? She have any luck finding a job yet?”

“No, not yet. She's coming into town for a week though, so I've got to hurry home and get her room ready. You should stop by sometime this week to see her.”

“I'll do that. Have a good night!”

“You too,” she gave me a quick hug and rushed out the door.