Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 75861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Okay.
So that wasn't the smoothest way to bring up a touchy subject, but I hadn't really found a better way to open the dialogue from the somewhat short drive from the office.
At that, she jumped back slightly, her eyes going big.
"Um... no?" she said, shaking her head. "That is a weird question."
"Why are you having it removed then?"
"What? How did... Nia," she said, sighing.
She'd been good.
Accepting my crew. Now our crew.
As invasive and unusual as they could be at times.
She'd taken it all in stride, pulling them into the fold, telling me how nice it was to have so much warmth after so much cold in her life, that their quirks were endearing.
Even when they involved kidnappings or illegal records scanning.
"Damnit," she grumbled, turning, and walking away from me.
She still wasn't great with confrontation, that time with Bertram aside, not even after a year and a half away from a life that would have assured her a busted lip if she even tried to use her voice.
Feeling a pit settle in my stomach, I followed her down the hall and into her office, finding her digging through the closet.
"Jenny, I'm sorry. I know this was sudden. But we kind of need to talk about these things. If you are going on the Pill or if I need to start buying condoms again... it's just good to know, y'know?"
"Here," she said instead of answering, producing a large decorative box, putting it into my hands. "Open it," she prompted when I didn't immediately move to do so.
My hands fumbled a bit. Ridiculously. Almost afraid of what might be inside.
I certainly hadn't been expecting a supply of mismatched baby items. Onesies. Toys. Blankets.
"Jenny..."
"Six weeks ago, I was at Target. And I was going to the electronic section to get a new set of headphones. And I passed the baby section. And I just... I couldn't leave the store without this onesie," she said, showing me the soft white one with a lamb on the front. "Like... I couldn't make myself put it down, Noah," she said, rolling her eyes at herself. "And then it just kept happening. Anytime I saw something like this," she added, holding up a blanket, "I had to take it with me. I know we haven't in-depth talked about a family, just that we both want one. And I was planning on making you dinner. Or, more likely, ordering in when my attempt at dinner burned," she added, smiling at her complete lack of culinary skills, no matter how many times she tried. "And then show you the box, explain, talk about removing my IUD, about starting to try. I should have mentioned it sooner, but it felt like such an odd subject to broach out of the blue."
"While I don't ever want you to feel awkward about talking to me about shit, I kinda get that. It's been on my mind too," I admitted.
"Having a baby."
"Yeah. Wondering when was the right time. After the renovations were done, I figured I would bring it up. I know you've been through a lot. Just got your life back. I wasn't sure if it was too soon."
"So, what I am hearing is... if I am ready, you are too."
"I guess that is what I am saying," I told her, smiling. Big.
And Jenny, yeah, she threw herself at me, holding me tighter than her small arms should have been able to.
"I love you," she told me, reining kisses up my neck, over my cheek, seeking my lips.
"I love you too," I told her against her lips.
She pulled away a long time later, smiling up at me.
"I bet Nia knows the sex before we do," she told me.
And she was right.
Jenny - 6 years
"Bellamy!" I yelled, throwing open the door to his apartment, very thankful I had insisted on having a key years before. "Where is my son?" I demanded, hearing my heels click over his hardwood floor, hoping I was gouging some holes in it.
Because he deserved it.
No mom should have to sit outside the elementary school, waiting for her son to appear along with all the other smiling-faced kids. Only to realize... he wasn't there.
He wasn't there.
And he was supposed to be.
My heart lodged in my throat, I hiked Maisie higher on my hip, her little skirt meaning her diaper pressed against me. It needed changing, but it would have to wait.
Because my son was missing.
"Mrs. Smith, take a breath," the principal said, voice soothing. "Your son was signed out right after lunchtime."
"Signed out by whom? Not me. And my husband is out of town."
"You have an extensive emergency list," he reminded me, still clearly annoyed by that fact. It had been a fight to get more than the usual three names. Noah and I had an unsuccessful meeting with him, coming back with the entire crew, explaining in painful detail why it was important that - should Noah's work infringe upon our personal lives - any member of the team, whoever was closest, could scoop the children up from school and get them to safety.