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Laughing when he drops his phone, I take a butter knife and cut that part away then slice up chunks for Sophie.
“Thank. You.” She picks up a few slices and folds them into one of the pancakes.
Darragh peels another banana and says, “We need to stop at the grocery store, too.”
“Sounds like we have a full day.” I put my plate into the dishwasher. “I need a shower.”
Darragh’s eyes follow me.
I lock into my memory of how he looks shirtless, turned on with that rumpled hair, because my bathroom has one sweet removable shower head.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ana
The ultrasound makes it official. I’m having a boy.
“Do you hear that, Sophie?” I ask her about the whoosh-whooshing of my baby’s heartbeat.
“He’s so little.” She stares at the screen in amazement.
This baby is her cousin and her brother, in some twisted genetic fashion. Yet, she thinks I’m just some knocked-up stranger she’ll never see again.
That’s true, I guess. After my baby is born, we’re leaving. I have to get through these next couple of weeks with Darragh and convince him to let us go.
Playing nice, I agree to a shopping spree at the mall.
Darragh buys us lunch, and after, Sophie begs him to take her on a kiddie train that circles the whole mall.
“This is Ginny’s Amex.” He hands me a credit card. “Shop for whatever you want.”
“Thank you.” I go to take it, but he pulls his hand back.
“I’m trusting you, Anastasia Koslov.”
Signaling with one call to his brother, Balor, and a stolen credit card number, they’ll track me down like a dog.
“How much can I spend?” I look at the card that reads: Ginnifer Dailey O’Rourke.
His warm green eyes light up. “Spend what you need to.”
“What I need, I can’t buy here.” I take the card and stalk off.
In the fancy maternity boutique, I consider how big I am. And since I have no reason to leave the house, I opt for loungewear, warm, cashmere sweaters, designer maternity jeans, and a few sleep sets.
The sales lady reminds me to buy new bras and underwear. She doesn’t ask for ID to charge thousands of dollars to Darragh’s wife’s credit card.
Back at the house, Sophie proudly sticks the little black and white photos from the ultrasound on the refrigerator.
“My friend Emily from Brownies has her baby sister’s photos on their fridge.”
Darragh and I freeze then sneak a look at each other.
“Sophie, those photos belong to Ana,” her father says, guilt in his tone.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She blushes, looking sad.
“That’s fine.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. “This way I can see them every morning, too. Otherwise, they’d be in a drawer.”
