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The pain and misery this woman lived through. The terror she must have felt when she found out she was pregnant and then the fear of running while pregnant.
“Does anyone know about…” The abuse, Audra, the life on the run. I can’t pinpoint a specific one, so I let the question trail off.
She shakes her head again. “No. I didn’t make friends while traveling. Tried to live under the radar as much as I could.”
“How long has it been since you left?”
“About fifteen months. I went to a doctor in Louisiana a month after I left. Got checked out. Confirmed my pregnancy and that she was healthy. I don’t stay in a place longer than a month though, so figuring out the healthcare portion of my pregnancy was hard. She was born in Maine on a stormy night. That’s what her name means. Storm. I remember hearing thunder when the doctor laid her on my chest for the first time.” Her eyes are glued to the little girl in my lap, and I follow her gaze. Audra’s little hands are curled around mine. Her face slack in sleep. She must have drifted off while Maisie was talking, and we didn’t notice.
Black lashes fan across her chubby cheeks, her little mouth slightly open. The mesh bag resting on her chin. This miracle of a baby is one of the reasons that Maisie is safe. That she got out. I’ve never felt grateful to an infant before, but I do now.
“Maisie.” Her name is wrenched from me. I don’t know what to say beyond that. Beyond the syllables of her name drenched in sorrow and sympathy for what she went through.
Maisie doesn’t say anything. We both just watch her daughter sleeping on my lap and the urge to shield them both from the hurts of life engulfs me.
There’s a comfort in the quiet between us now that she shared her burdens and fear with me. Maybe it’s because of the hour, or the fact that all is quiet in the night around us. But I soak in the small measure of comfort, astounded at the strength of the woman next to me.
Frying bacon and baby babble wake me. My lower back pings as my eyes drift open and I take in the early morning light coming through the windows.
The ceiling of the apartment comes into focus as I realize a light blanket is draped around my shoulders. The pink fuzzy material is soft against my cheek.
Maisie is standing at the stove, Audra propped on her hip and bacon frying in a pan.
Shit. What time is it?
I glance at my watch. It’s still early. I don’t have to be at the station for a few hours.
I sit up gingerly just as she replaces the lid over the pan on the stove.
“Good morning,” I rumble quietly, not wanting to startle her.
She turns and gives me a small smile. “Morning.”
Her shoulder sling is still off, probably because she’s using her hurt arm to cook while Audra is held in her other arm, her body angled so that Audra is away from the hot stove.
Stretching as I stand, I work the kinks out of my back and neck from sleeping on the couch. I don’t remember falling asleep, but after the heavy conversation with Maisie, I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
Maisie seems less scared but still hesitant around me, and I figure it’s going to take some time for her to feel comfortable around me — with good reason.
Last night’s conversation filters through my head and with it comes the rush of anger at her ex. How anyone can lay hands on their partner is beyond me. The fact that Maisie lived through it until she could get out safely is astounding. Her strength is astounding.
“Uh. I made some eggs and bacon. I didn’t want to wake you but didn’t know if you had to work this morning.”
“I do. But not for a little bit yet. Thank you.”
“Okay. Well breakfast is about done whenever you’re ready.”
“Be right back.” I step into the bathroom to do my business, and seeing the toothpaste on the counter, swipe some on my finger and run it across my teeth before splashing water on my face.
The excited screech from the kitchen is the first thing to greet me once I emerge from the bathroom.
Maisie’s trying to plate some of the eggs, but Audra’s bouncing and wiggling in her arms. Her little feet digging into Maisie’s side for leverage.
“Here. Let me take her.” I pluck Audra out of her arms and settle her on my own hip. My forearm under her butt. Little feet kick at my side, and I stare down into her bright eyes.
“Someone’s a morning girl. Aren’t you?” I whisper as Maisie finishes cooking breakfast.
Twin dimples wink into existence against chubby rosy cheeks and my heart thuds in my chest at her smile.
