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“I’ll get my coat.” She scoots past me.
“A walk.” Darragh looks at the clock on the stove.
“I was cooped up in that motel room. Please…”
“Why now?” He cocks his head at me. “We were in the mall. The hospital.”
“That wasn’t outside. I like fresh air.”
“Sit on the porch.”
“Everything is wet.” I fold my arms. “Where am I going with nothing? No money. No phone. And with your daughter?”
That sets off alarms, though, and he grabs my arm.
The roughness sends mixed signals of lust through me.
“I’m ready!” Sophie sticks her head into the kitchen.
“Please, it’s just a walk,” I whisper. “To get my blood moving.”
“I offered to get your blood moving.”
Now it’s a tsunami under my skin.
“And I said I was considering it.”
“If you don’t come back…” He stares at me. “If I find my daughter wandering—”
“You. Won’t.” I pull away and turn around. Snagging Sophie’s hand, I say, “Why don’t you show me your bus stop for school when Daddy doesn’t drive you?”
“Okay!”
We leave, and I don’t look back.
Outside, the lampposts on the street keep the darkness away. Sunrise and sunset times are similar to those in New York.
But in November, daylight is limited. Here in Seattle, the sun is on a permanent holiday.
I glance down the street where I saw the mailbox.
“My bus stop is this way.” Sophie tugs me.
Shit.
“Okay. I thought I saw something on that street. Can we walk that way first, please?”
“Sure.” She skips along.
I think of my mother, who never took us for walks. We had nannies who watched us play in the garden. I recall how Yulia, my father’s housekeeper, took care of Katya when she was younger. I watched from the shadows, jealous of the attention. But Yulia’s tenderness stuck with me.
That’s the mother I want to be.
I finally feel more connected to the baby, excited to get those kicks and the squirming.
Before, those movements filled me with dread, the impending birth terrifying me.
I’m not scared anymore.
