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Baby steps are still steps in the right direction. If nothing else, they’re better than standing still.
I keep telling myself that every time I feel the doubt creep in. Doubt that I’m doing right by Willow when I shy away from things I used to do with her.
I just…can’t.
The first morning after we reunited, I cried when she left for the school day. It wasn’t the leaving—it was the way her sweet little face fell when I tried to gently explain that I couldn’t take her to school on my own.
What I was trying to say was, “Mommy is terrified of losing you, getting kidnapped, driving over a landmine, falling into an endless, bottomless pit…” But what she heard must have been something like, “I can; I justdon’twantto. I didn’t want to see you the second I came home, so why would I want to spend time with you in the car?”
The second morning, I’m given the biggest surprise: Roxy pouncing on me with a giant hug and excited squeal the second she comes through the door. Apparently, Demyen had texted her and invited her to the compound.
We hug, we cry, we pseudo-scream at each other for me giving her “the biggest scare of her life.” And then she doesn’t ask, she just tells me,We’re grabbing the kiddo and driving into the city together.
I try to let her know I’m not ready, but she shoots me a look and firmly informs me that I’m getting my ass in the car even if she has to tie me up and throw me in.
It’s little too soon for kidnapping jokes, but the sentiment is enough.
I’m a nervous wreck the whole ride. What if we’re attacked along the way? What if Oleg’s men suddenly appear in their trucks and start shooting out our tires? Will I be able to throw myself over Willow and protect her from bullets? Will I be able to protect her from Master?
Roxy doesn’t make me leave the car when we pull in to drop Willow off. But she does take my little girl’s hand and walk her around to my side of the car so I can open the door to give her a hug goodbye.
Baby steps.
Once Willow is safely in her classroom, we go through the drive-thru of Roxy’s favorite gourmet cafe and she forces me to order the most elaborate, creamy, sugary concoction I would never normally get for myself.
“You need more meat on them bones, girl,” she insists. She turns to the barista and adds, “Let’s get a box of pastries, too. Two of everything on the menu.”
Then, sugar fix in hand, she drives us up to a lookout spot so we can eat breakfast and gaze out over the city in peace. When she parks, she points out how still and isolated it is. “If anyone tries to sneak up on us, we’ll know. And…” She cracks her knuckles menacingly and gives me a megawatt grin. “... I justwisha muthafucka would!”
I laugh and nudge her. “I missed you, Rox.”
“Missed you, too, hon.”
We lapse into an easy silence for a few moments, both of us chewing and sipping contentedly. “So,” she asks through a mouthful of sugar-dusted croissant, “when’s the baby due?”
I promptly choke on my coffee cake.
Roxy glances at me and smirks. “Oh, come on. Like I wouldn’t figure it out.”
She really would. I wasn’t exactly planning on waving a banner over my head, but I also wasn’t planning on telling her, or anyone, for awhile.
I should have known better.
“What gave me away?” I know she has weird eagle eyes that notice tiny details about people most others would miss, but still. I needed to know if there’s anything that will alert Demyen to my condition.
I’m just… not… ready. Not yet.
“You insisted on decaf.” Roxy sips her frappe and shrugs. “I know you. You’re a quad-shot beyotch when the opportunity arises. Last time I recommended decaf, you just about gouged my eyes out.”
We share a laugh. And then, in the slightly awkward silence that follows, I nod. Kind of.
Roxy lights up. “Oh my gosh!Oh my gosh!Does he know?”
“No!” My expression must be haunting, because she immediately sobers up and rubs my arm.
“Hey. Hey, it’s okay. You okay?” She sits up straighter and frowns. “Did Demyen do something to you? I know you’ll tell me what’s been going on when you’re ready, but you were gone forweeksand I?—”
“It’s not… No.” I try to give her a reassuring smile. “Demyen didn’t do anything. Bad. I mean, he didn’t hurt me or say anything or whatever. I’m just… I’m not ready? We’re not exactly picking out china patterns together, ya know? I don’t know how he’d react to finding out I’m pregnant with his baby.”
