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Sal’s bright yellow running shoes fly across soft earth. Loam and pine needles spray up behind her as she races back to the house. The afternoon sun burns bright in the noon-blue sky.
She needed this run, needed a way to decompress before her night shift at the hospital.
It’s been a week of lying low, of drinking enough water and going to sleep early and taking pregnancy tests every damn day to soothe her nerves. She’s never been so tired in her entire life. But then, she’s never been so grateful.
It’s still there, she tells herself. That little baby deep and safe in her belly.
Sal slows her stride when she makes it back to the farm. She pounds up the stairs right into the house. For the first time in a long time, it’s empty. She takes in the strange silence. No one is playing music, the radio going at eardrum-bursting decibels, Seth and Luke arguing about the most pointless things only they can argue about. Only an odd quiet. Stillness.
Sal prefers the noise. It means life is happening. Her life.
At the kitchen sink, she fills a glass with water. She drinks fast, gulps. She knows she’s dehydrated, can fill the lightheadedness creeping over her, the cramp in her side a pinch.
Sal catches a glimpse of her reflection in the window pane, her breath held heavy in her chest. She’s going to be a mother. Hell, she was a mother. She can’t remember her Henry, but she knows she loved him more than anything.
And Luke. Sal smiles, her heart giddy. He’ll be the best father.
Setting the glass down, Sal goes to step away from the sink, only to be swept up by a wave of dizziness. It happens sudden and fast. She tries to grab the kitchen counter but misses.
Shit, not again, she thinks.
She braces herself for the fall, but instead, a strong arm wraps around her waist. Holding her up. Tight.
“I got you.”
A rumble of a voice.
Seth. He’s here. At her side. She hadn’t heard him come in. Hadn’t heard much of anything as her ears emptied of sound and her world blurred.
Sal lets Seth lead her to the living room, settling her gently on the couch. The cushion shifts as he sits beside her. Then Sal’s world refocuses. She blinks up at Seth. He’s leaning in, his blue eyes cloudy with worry.
She sweeps hair from her face. “What’re you doing here?”
“I came over to return Luke’s tools.” He gestures at the rusted toolbox sitting in the foyer. “And a good thing too because I almost found you on the floor.”
She opens her mouth to protest, when the world around her swirls. Dizzy, she squeezes her eyes shut and waits for her vision to clear.
“That’s it.” A crack in Seth’s voice. “I’m callin’ Luke.”
“No.” She peels her eyes open, resting a hand on Seth’s forearm before he can pull out his phone. “Please.”
He hits her with a hard look that tells her he won’t buy her bullshit any longer. “What’s goin’ on, Sal? Luke said you went to the doctor.”
“I did.”
“And he said everything was okay.”
She bites her lip, debating what to say. “I kinda, maybe kept something from him ...”
Seth scrubs a hand down his face. “Are you sick?” When she’s silent, he exhales roughly. His voice rises—not mad, but worried—as he says, “Goddamnit, Sal.”
“I’m not sick, I’m pregnant.”
The words hit Seth like a truck and he starts. Then his eyes clear, his expression changing from agony to relief. “Sal, goddamn, that’s great.” He crushes her in a big hug that takes the air from her lungs. When he pulls back, his blue eyes are wide and wet. “Luke’s gotta be thrilled.”
“He doesn’t know yet.” Seth’s brow furrows and before he can ask, she blurts, “And you can’t tell him.”
He sighs.
