Burned

28

          Louise sank into the hot water, letting out a long sigh of relief. She closed her eyes and took a few deep inhales of the lavender soap. It was a welcome distraction but it didn't last long. She did everything she could to block out the noise in her head. All the panicked thoughts overlapping one another, each one getting louder than the last.

Just focus on the good.

Alfie.

Cyril and Paris.

All the new friends and family she'd gained. Evelyn, Bess, Anya, Vera, Maxine, Ollie, and Shayna, plus their children. Tante Eva, Bubbe Bluma, Tante Raisa.

Louise opened her eyes when a random memory popped back in her mind. Raisa holding her cheeks and complimenting her eyes. The lines around her eyes showing as she smiled warmly.

"Look at those beautiful brown eyes. How perfect they'll look on a healthy baby boy."

The room around her went too quiet and still. She was motionless in the bathtub, the water a sheet of glass around her. Cyril lay beside the tub, his droopy cheeks resting on his large paws. Faint sounds from Evelyn in the kitchen traveled up the stairs. A car passed by outside. But her ears hardly registered the sounds.

Slowly, as if weighted down with lead, she lifted a hand to her stomach. There wasn't much to feel. Cool air touched her skin, steam rising up. Could there be something there? A child? Alfie's child? Her child?

Louise sat there dumbfounded. She didn't even have the ability to recall the date to fact check. Was it Christmas? Or Christmas Eve? Perhaps it was Boxing Day already. She chewed on her lip and tried once then twice to count the weeks. But the dates were muddled and she couldn't pinpoint a number.

Breaking out of her daze, Louise stood and reached for the towel placed nearby. Cyril lifted his head and trailed her movements across the room but stayed in his spot on the floor.

Louise paced for a bit, unaware of her shivers from the sudden shock of cold air. Finally, she stopped in front of the vanity. Color had returned to her face, her cheeks flushed pink from the hot soak. She dropped the towel and stared at her abdomen as if waiting for the answer to appear in writing on her skin. She twisted left then right to see any indication of pregnancy. Her eyes began to play tricks and she couldn't tell if her bare midsection actually had a small bump or if she hadn't changed at all.

Ready to face facts, Louise donned a dressing gown, quickly tying the belt and going downstairs. Cyril followed, sensing some of her distress.

"Lyn, have you seen my diary?" She asked while searching through Alfie's study. Her still damp hands left trails of water droplets over the wood desk and parchment.

"I think you left it in the parlor. I thought that's where I saw it last." Evelyn called back.

Leaving Alfie's office, Louise finally found the book on the side table in the parlor. She stood over it, rifling through the pages.

Evelyn came from the kitchen. "You weren't up there very long. Did you get sick again? Are you hungry?" The young woman noticed Louise's harried nature.

Instead of answering, she searched the book, scanning over Alfie's meetings and scribbled notes next to her own neat handwriting.

"Louise?" Evelyn grew more concerned by her silence. The woman's face began to go pale again. "What's wrong?"