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She guided my hand to the specific part of her stomach where she had felt the movement and there it was. My child.
I dropped to my knees so that I would be eye level with her pregnant belly. With tears in my eyes, I kissed that precious part of her.
“Landon…” she whispered. “Are you crying?”
I wiped away my tears before she could see them.
“Oh, he was definitely crying,” came Roman’s response from the entrance.
“No one asked for your opinion.”
“It’s okay to get a little emotional about your soon-to-be child. It’s a normal reaction.”
I got up and rolled my shoulders back to help straighten my posture. “Have you felt the baby kick yet?”
“No, I haven’t.” He joined us and like me, he also felt that tiny nudge from an invisible foot. “I think we’ve got a healthy and happy baby on our hands.”
“Speaking of which, I had a question about the pregnancy.” Jane pulled her shirt back down. “How will we know if everything is alright with the baby? It’s not like I can go to my local OB/GYN.”
“
Right,” affirmed Roman. “Human doctors are not equipped to handle our kind. They wouldn’t know what to do with you.”
“So, what are we supposed to do? Wing it?”
“I think I might know someone.”
Roman looked at me as if I had sprouted a third eye in the middle of my forehead. “And who do you know, that I don’t?”
“Cynthia.”
“Cynthia?” Both Roman and Jane spoke her name in unison.
“I’m sorry but who is Cynthia?” Jane had her lips pressed together into a thin line, giving me the impression that she wasn’t very happy with me.
“She is an old… friend,” I said not wanting to say ‘lover.’ It hadn’t amounted to much since we were both aware we weren’t destined as mates. Still, it had been a summer of fun all the same.
Roman’s confusion mounted. “How come I have never heard about her?”
“Because she is a lone wolf. She was ostracized from her pack for practicing shamanism.”
“Shamanism?” It was now Jane’s turn for confusion. “What does that mean?”
“I suppose you can call her a witch doctor.”
“You want me to go to a witch doctor?”
“It is only a thought,” I said, trying to defend myself against her outburst. “She really is quite good at what she does.”
“Which is what exactly? Turning men into frogs?”
I shook my head. “She does not turn men into frogs. She makes medicines and helps the wildlife. She’ll often attempt to speak to the trees —”
“So, what you’re telling me is that she’s crazy.”
“All I’m asking is that you meet her. If you do not like her, then fine, we will attempt another course of action.”
“I do not like this,” said Jane.
