The Cost of Memories

In Which My Pawnshop Sees Too Many Visitors

I have been avoiding Finn, ignoring the messages that he sends me or telling him that I can't meet with him. I haven't come to terms with the memories that Shadow returned to me, feeling like someone pushed me into the cold deep end while I was still busy sticking my toes in.

I am waiting for him to just show up one day like he had before. Throughout the day, I fluctuate between being absolutely furious and being in the depths of remorse. I almost wish that the pawnshop was busier to keep my mind from lingering on everything, but it is a futile hope.

In the middle of looking through my ledger where I was making sure to note that several people had stopped by the previous evening to retrieve their memories, I hear the bell dinging. I close the book slowly, looking up to find that Mrs. Miles is making her way towards me.

"Hello, Mrs. Miles," I say, stepping around the counter to give her a steadying hand. Up close, she appears to be white as a sheet as sweat beads against her forehead. "What brings you here today?"

Her breath escapes through clenched teeth. "I was on my way to sell you another memory. I thought I had been having Braxton-Hicks all day, but my water broke on the way here."

I swear my lungs have stopped working as they should for a moment as much as my muscles attempt to melt into a puddle of jelly. Only the firm grip of the other woman as another contraction ripples through her body draws me back into my body, kickstarting all systems into high gear.

"Do you need me to find someone for you? Is there somewhere or someone nearby that can help you?" I ask, starting to realize that it was a mistake to wish that the pawnshop was busy.

"There's not enough time. The doctor warned me that since this was my third child that this one was going to come quickly." A contraction cuts off her words as her grip tightens around my hand. "You are going to have to help me deliver this baby, Mae."

I bite back all the words that leap to my lips at the thought of her having a baby here, in the pawnshop, with me as her only help. There is no context for me in this scenario, no memories that were either my own or someone else's to draw on.

"Mae," she says, seeming to sense how scared and worried and concerned I was, "you can do this. I have been through this before and basically know what to expect. You are here mainly for moral support."

Taking a deep breath, I carefully steer her through the aisles of the pawnshop to the back room that both of us are so familiar with. I help her get settled in the chair that still made me grimace when I thought of Shadow occupying it, amazed at the fact that she was so calm when my blood was roaring through me.

"I'm going to go flip the sign to closed. Is there anything else that I need to grab while I am out there?"

A few minutes later, I slam back through the curtain, arms full of supplies. Mrs. Miles has managed to ease herself out of the chair and walk through the shelves, staring wide-eyed at the jars as the memories flutter towards her. The sight manages to dissipate some of the panic that enveloped me since she came into my shop, and I find enough presence of mind to start to organize the mess in my arms.

"The contractions are getting closer now," she tells me, finding her way back to me. The memories light her way, casting almost an unearthly glow around her. "It shouldn't be too much longer."

Time loses its meaning in the back room, and I swear that I'm never going to call her a liar because it truly isn't much longer before I find myself catching a tiny baby. She is wailing and covered in all sorts of fluid, but as I clamp and cut the cord, she steals a part of my heart.