It was day seven of Thomas and I working on things. Patching things up as they say. Things were tough... Strange to say the least. He thought he couldn't touch me for the first few hours which was all too strange. I broke past that very quickly, we had sex in three days time.
He went to work, came home, even bought me flowers which was so cute I wanted to burst of happiness.
Belly got bigger as the days went on. It was all getting so strange. I began reading a baby book Ada had given me when she had Karl. Speaking of Ada, she came by, and Thomas and her spoke in his study privately. They rehashed their relationship, I was soon due to see Dr. Milok again, and that made me excited and nervous.
Between sleeping and laying in bed too tired to even think, I ate and spent my days cleaning up the little bits of the home. Today I was cleaning out a fairly-empty room in our home. I wanted this specific room next to ours to be the baby's room when he or she was older. There was the perfect amount of light that came through the windows. I pictured baby blue pain and grey furnishing, for our baby boy. Of course I have no idea what we're having, and there might be two little ones in me but I had a hunch on one little boy. We were due to go to Hampshire soon, it was a matter of time, I didn't ask Thomas when, but he said soon. So I believed him.
The phone rang as I had finished with making tea. Enough for myself and Roger, who sat inside his car just in case. Thomas called it unnecessary measures. So, we made the most out of it, I brought him tea in exchange for my security.
I hurried to the phone and picked up, "Shelby residence."
I was expecting Thomas. He typically phoned me during his lunch hour.
"Erm, is Mrs. Shelby there?" A voice unknown to me says. A woman, her voice is small.
I frown, "Yes, this is she. Who's calling?"
"This is Irma Martin calling from Saint Joseph Hospital in Cardiff, do you have a moment?"
I pause, a dark dread seizes me by the throat. Oh God, what's happened?
"-Mrs. Shelby?" She asks after not hearing anything.
"Yes. Sorry, what is this in regards to exactly?" I move to sit down, afraid what I'm told might break me in two.
"Well, I-I don't know how else to tell you this but, Mrs. Shelby, there's been a serious incident in your family, a Jean-Pierre Noland? He was involved in a car accident down ways of Brimely Road. He's unconscious and we've got a breathing machine in him. He's– well he's dying, Mrs. Shelby."
"How did you get this number?" I ask. It's the first thing that pops into my mind, my uncle has never once called me.
"He's got your contact name and number in his wallet. The police gave it to us only a day ago, is he your family?"
"Yes, he's my uncle, but we aren't close."
I begin processing things now. Uncle JP's been in a car accident. He's hurt and he's dying.
"Alright, is there anyway you want to come here? Usually, people say their goodbyes and well. His medical records state that he has no one else but a Jacob Verga?"
"That's my brother." I swallow. "He's passed away. It's only me now." I rub my belly, a subconscious thing. "I don't know.
"H-h-he's dying?" I never thought the day would come, but now, a day I wanted to celebrate makes my stomach hurt. I need to hear it again.
"Yes, he's dying." There's a pause. She sounds sad for me. "The force of impact when he was in the accident caused severe brain damage. Your uncle is brain dead, Mrs. Shelby."
