Coffin of Hope

Chapter Thirty Three

Mally shook himself awake and clutched at his mother. He was cold. He peeled open his eyes and looked around the suite blearily.

The sun was making its way up and the room was purple and blue in daylight's mesmerizing colors.

He realized the covers had shifted off him and Marcy so he was going to wrap them back up when he had the urge to pee.

He crawled over his mom and climbed from the bed. He went to the bathroom then washed his hands before going back to the bed. He climbed in then over his mother to lay right up under her again.

He covered them with linen and got comfortable. Right when he was on his way back to sleep, Marcy popped up and scrambled from the bed.

She ran to the bathroom and shut the door.

He could hear the sounds of vomit. Was his mommy sick?

He sat up to wait for her.

She came back out ten minutes later and climbed in the bed. She frowned as she realized he was up. "Why are you awake?"

"You were throwing up." He worried.

"It's okay." She made herself comfortable and wrapped the covers around them. Vomiting made her cold.

He eyed her, unconvinced.

"Come on. Lay down." She opened her arms.

He got in position and laid his head on her chest, wrapping his little arms around her as best he could.

She cuddled him close, patting his bottom.

He dropped off to sleep.

She stared at him in the early morning light. She was holding her baby. She was actually able to touch him and kiss him and hold him.

Tears leapt into her eyes, unable to believe her fortune. She leaned her head atop his and relaxed.

Pretty soon, she fell asleep.

OF

"I wanna wear that." Mickey pointed to a dress in one of her suitcases.

Mal picked up the cobalt dress. "What else?"

She leaned over into the second suitcase and peered inside. "Those leggings."

He selected the silver leggings. "Pick out your undies."

She rooted through the suitcase for panties, socks and an undershirt.

He handed her the dress and leggings. "Go with Mommy so you can get dressed."

Mickey held her items close to her chest and marched over to where Marcy was waiting on her. The duo went into the bathroom.

Mally set his own clothes on the bed then walked over to his father. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, namesake?" Mal put his big hand on the little boy's tiny head and shook it.

Mally chewed on his bottom lip. "I think Mommy's sick."

"What do you mean?" Mal frowned in confusion.

"She threw up this morning."

"She did?" Mal blinked, worried. Then it hit him that Marcy was seven weeks along. Maybe it was her morning sickness?

"Yeah." Mally nodded, fear prevalent in his eyes.

Mal dragged him onto his lap. "I'm going to take really good care of Mommy, okay?"