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“Could you feel any movement of the foal in her body?”
“I don’t think so. I’m not sure what I’d be feeling for.”
Maggie had never even felt a human fetus moving. It had never occurred to her to ask if she could feel Annie’s baby move. It was actually a little repugnant to her, but she didn’t admit that to Justin.
Seeing the baby shift inside Annie scared Maggie. Watching Annie squat in the yard to care for the dogs reminded her of reading about ancient peoples who squatted in the fields to give birth. She and Annie grew up together, started their periods, watched each other’s bodies develop. Tiny Annie with this huge appendage hanging off her was frightening to see. Maggie couldn’t imagine pushing a baby out of her body and shivered, grimacing, but Justin was talking. She tried to pay attention.
“It’s difficult to determine if you’re feeling the foal move or normal intestinal movement.”
She was too eager to go back into the cottage now, the visuals of babies folded up inside of their mothers disturbing. Pausing at the steps, she looked out at the water. “Do you feel like walking down to the dock?”
“Sure.” He grabbed their folded-up beach chairs.
They held hands as they walked over the grass to the dock. The sound of night in the bayou surrounded the couple: frogs, crickets, something splashing in the water. The light from a sliver of moon shown just enough through the cypress to illuminate the dock.
“I bet that was a gator,” Maggie said, clearly fearful by the sound of her voice.
“I bet it was an otter. This water is too brackish for a gator,” he said. “You trust me?”
“I trust you.”
They reached the dock and unfolded their chairs. “I should have brought a thermos.”
“We’re fine,” Justin said. “I don’t need to be eatin’ and drinkin’ something every second I’m awake.”
“I do,” she said, laughing, relaxing.
“You don’t have to give up wine just because I am!”
“Yes, I do,” she replied. “I’m glad to do it. I was looking forward to the next glass of wine too much.”
“It’s probably from the isolation out here.”
“Justin, I’ve never entertained or partied more than I have since Christmas. It’s been insane. I could use a little isolation.”
“So, what’s next for us?” He wanted to change the topic to help her calm down. Maggie was on edge, he could feel it, but he didn’t know why.
“I want to leave things as they are for a while. We haven’t had a chance to really be alone. If it’s not my girlfriends moving in to run from their own unsatisfying lives, to my mother imagining that I invited her to lunch…”
“You did though.”
“Justin, whose side are you on, anyway? Baking the pie was the signal that I’d better have a real lunch ready. Not a plate of cheese and crackers.”
“Okay, I’m sorry,” Justin said, sorry he’d contradicted her. He reached for her hand. “I’ll reword my question. How can we find the downtime we need together?”
“Aw, Justy, you’re so sweet.” She chuckled. “I see the effort you’re making. Well, let’s begin by using Lent as a time to plan what’s next for us.”
“I like that.”
“We’re sort of on different paths though,” she said. “You want to get married, and I don’t.”
She cringed, and he saw it. “But it shouldn’t be a topic we can’t discuss. I will not get angry because you don’t want to run off and get married.”
“Good, because I’ll never do that. I need to understand what you believe the benefits of marriage will be.”
“I just want you to be mine,” he said, knowing how lame that sounded.
“I am yours. I love you more than I thought was possible, Justin. Remember, my divorce practically just happened. Being married isn’t all that you think it is. If you’ll let me, I’ll try to make you feel secure in my love so that a piece of paper won’t matter.”
