by Megan Hart
He sat up suddenly, as though someone had slapped him. “What?”
She looked down to her chest. A thin white stream had dribbled from the breast he’d been lavishing his attentions on. She wiped it away, and no more came to take its place.
“It’s milk,” she said. “I only stopped nursing my last baby three months ago. Sometimes…sometimes I still leak a little.”
He touched her breast, wonder clear on his face, and then touched her cheek. “I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.”
He traced the silvery white lines on her abdomen, turning her toward the light to see them better. “Scars?”
“Stretch marks,” she said. The light touch was beginning to drive her crazy.
He bent to kiss each line. “They’re beautiful.”
She had never thought of them that way before. They were just a part of her. Now, with Tobin, she saw them as he did. Marks of motherhood. They were beautiful.
His breath was heavy. “Is this all right?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
He rested his hand on her stomach again, tracing the silver lines. “Because of the baby.”
She hadn’t thought of that. A pregnant hopemother was excused from keeping appointments. A brief flash of unease filled her, but she shook it off.
“I’ve made love while pregnant before. Once a hopemother learns she’s pregnant she doesn’t have to keep appointments any more, but it can take a couple weeks, even months to know you’ve caught.”
With a sigh he pulled away from her. “Maybe we shouldn’t, then.”
No! That wasn’t what she wanted! She needed him, needed to be in his arms and not as just friends. Not traveling companions. Lovers.
She put her hands on his shoulders, bringing him close to her body. “It’s all right, Tobin.”
“Are you sure?”
She could tell he wanted her to be right. He wanted to make love to her as much as she needed him to. And yet, he was willing to push away the obvious desire of his body because he was concerned for her, and for the baby swimming inside her. She’d never known a man to care for her in that way. She didn’t know joy could hurt almost as much as grief.
“I’m not sure, no,” she said, because she couldn’t lie to him. “Hopemothers were excused, yes, but not for any definite health reasons. It was just a precaution, Tobin. We weren’t forbidden from keeping appointments, just excused. Most of us looked forward to that excuse.”
He nodded, resting his chin on her head. His hands toyed in her hair some more, then down her shoulders and back in a soothing rhythm that could have put her to sleep. She snuggled closer to him, her arms around his back and her thigh pressed between his. She was starting to get cold.
“I just don’t want to risk hurting you, or the child,” he said roughly. He reached down to touch the long, still healing cut on her leg. “This was bad enough. Elanna, I’d hate myself if anything happened to you because of something I did.”
“We’ll be doing it together,” she said.
“I don’t know if I can.”
She reached between them to touch him. “This says you can.”
“Maybe we’d better just go to sleep.”
Now tears threatened. Her hormones were raging, she knew that. But she also felt terribly, horribly disappointed.
“If you don’t want to make love to me,” she said with as much dignity as she could, “then just say so.”
He clutched at her, kissing her forehead. “Please don’t say that.”
“What should I think?” She asked him angrily. “We’re in bed together, we’re naked, and you won’t make love to me!”
She knew she was being unreasonable. His reasons were strong, and noble. That didn’t change the fact that she wanted him, and it didn’t make her happy about his refusal.
“Is it a risk you’re willing to take?” He asked her gently, pulling her chin up so she could look at his face.
She thought about the months ahead, never knowing for sure if the life she carried would survive. Pregnancy was always filled with anxiety. Would she lose the baby this month? Or perhaps the next? Would the child be safely delivered, and if it lived through that, was it healthy? Would it live? Would it die? Would it nurse and would it grow?
“No,” she said finally. Hot and bitter tears stung her nose and throat. “No, I guess not.”
Tobin pushed her gently until she turned, then spooned against her. He tugged the covers over them. His hand found hers, and clasped it tightly.
“Sleep well,” he whispered in her ear.
She wouldn’t have thought she could, but she did.
−
25-
Sleeping naked next to Elanna was a sweet torture he couldn’t believe he’d put himself through. His entire body ached everywhere it touched hers, but he didn’t want to move away. Her breathing was slow and regular, and he knew she slept. He couldn’t.
She had a child growing in her, a miracle he’d never seen. True, he’d always dreamed of fathering a child of his own, but as she’d so wisely pointed out to him, did it matter? It was a baby.
But who would care for Elanna during her pregnancy? Who would help her when the time came for the baby to be born? They had to find other people, women, and soon.
How long could they travel? The thought sobered him. How much physical activity could she handle? How long could she walk the grueling miles they’d have to go?
She needed proper food, water. Rest. She needed good shoes. She needed too many things.
Feeling helpless, he buried his face in her hair, breathing in the scent of her. He wasn’t ready for this responsibility. He didn’t know what he was doing, and she relied on him.
It took a long time for the sun to rise. His eyes grew heavy, but even when he closed them, sleep eluded him. Thoughts ran like rats through his mind, over and over. Nothing he’d ever read had prepared him for this challenge. All he knew about labor was that it made the women scream and needed lots of boiling water.
Oh, God. Sometimes the women died. Could he bear it? Anxiety gripped him, shortening his breath until he had to force himself to relax, to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Calming himself.
She stirred beside him, stretching. She rolled to face him, her hair a glorious tangle. Her eyes were puffy. Had she been crying, even in her sleep? How could he not have heard?
“Good morning,” Elanna said quietly. Did she look a little pale?
“Morning. Did you sleep well?”
She nodded, brushing her tangled curls away from her face. “I guess so. You?”
He nodded a lie. “Hungry?”
Her mouth pursed, and she swallowed heavily. “Ack.”
He hadn’t heard her right. “What?”
She swallowed again, twice. Her face grew paler. Slowly, slowly, she pushed herself up from the bed and swung her legs over the side.
“Are you all right?” He asked, alarmed.
Her back to him, she held up one hand but didn’t speak. Her shoulders shook momentarily. Again, slowly, she stood and with measured footsteps left the room.
A minute later he heard the awful sound of her heaving. Tobin leapt from the bed faster than he thought he could have. He flung open the door so hard it hit the wall and made a hole.
“Elanna!”
She came out of the bathroom. He was relieved to see some color back in her cheeks. He went to her and held her, taking her by the hand back to the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, close to panic. “Are you sick? Are you all right?”
He didn’t understand why she was looking at him with such amusement. She let him sit her down on the bed. When he knelt in front of her, she stroked his cheek.
“Toby. I’m fine. It’s called morning sickness.”
He sat back, not knowing what to say. “Oh.”
She giggled a little. “It’s not pretty, but it doesn’t last. I usually don’t get it at all. I’m sorry if I scared you.”
He let
out a great gust of relief. “How will I make it through the next nine months?”
She patted his shoulder. “You’ll be fine.”
He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the stubble on his chin. “I have no idea what to expect.”
“I do.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you do.”
She looked around the room, at him kneeling naked in front of her, and then down at herself. “Shall we find something to wear? And something to eat? I’m starving.”
And just like that, she was fine. Did all women go through this? He hated being sick, vomiting. The few times he’d had to throw up he’d wanted to die. Women must be stronger than men, Tobin thought, watching her leave the room to go across the hall. Unbelievably stronger.
“Come on, Toby!”
He followed her to the bedroom. She’d pulled a blanket over the remains of their hosts, tucking it around the bones with obvious care. Now she stood in front of the closet, naked but for a ridiculously large hat. It had a huge drooping and bedraggled feather. She grinned at him, shaking her head to make the feather dance.
“What do you think about this?”
He laughed. “Mmm.”
“That is not an answer.” She tossed the hat onto a nearby chair and rifled through the clothes on the rod. “But I think I can find some things that will fit us in here.”
Though some of the clothes had not weathered the years intact, most were still in good shape. Whoever had worn them had taken good care of them; most things were even covered with thin plastic bags that had kept the dust away. Elanna laid items on the bed, pairing shirts with pants and skirts, shaking out dresses and jackets. The dressers were full, too, though much of the clothing in the drawers had suffered more than those in the closet.
“Underwear!” Tobin said with a flourish, showing her the drawer. “And socks!”
Elanna laughed, pulling a shirt over her head. “Great. That will make a great outfit.”
He pulled out a neatly folded pair of briefs and tugged them on. It should have felt strange to be wearing a dead man’s underwear, but did he have a choice? The only time he’d ever worn anything right from the package was what he’d found in the warehouse.
Another drawer yielded several pairs of faded jeans. A little too big, but a belt would fix that. He pulled them on, and then a t-shirt from the third drawer. Elanna tossed him a zippered sweatshirt. Everything smelled a little musty, but that would pass in time. It just felt good to be wearing clean clothes after three weeks in the same things.
“What size are your feet?” Elanna asked, her voice muffled as she dug around in the bottom of the closet. She pulled out a couple pairs of sneakers. “Will these do?”
They didn’t. Also too big. He’d have to be satisfied with his old pair. “Sorry.”
“I guess I’m the lucky one,” she said, waving a pair of smaller shoes. “These are just right. The clothes will be all right for awhile, too.”
He thought of her belly growing. Something else to think about. What would she wear? He watched her dress, anxiety setting in again. This place had so much to offer them: shelter, food, clothes. Maybe they should stay here until the baby was born.
“What’s wrong?” She bumped him from his thoughts.
“Nothing,” Tobin said, trying to shake off his nervousness. “You look pretty.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Sure I do.”
She was wearing a pair of purple sweatpants and a matching shirt with a scooped neck. The sleeves and the legs were too long, and she’d rolled them to fit. Her sneakers were purple and white, with sparkly laces.
“Someone liked purple,” Tobin remarked.
“They’re soft.” She smoothed her shirt. Looking at the bed, she said softly, “Thank you.”
Downstairs, he rekindled the fire in the oven again, glad he’d remembered to bank the coals. Water quickly boiled in a kettle from the cupboard. Elanna brought some tea bags, stale but still useable, from the pantry, and some cans of fruit. Breakfast was simple, but good.
“I wish I had some bread,” she said wistfully as she drained the last of the peach juice. “Amnon made great sourdough rolls. He showed me how once. It’s tricky. Yeast is so precious and so hard to find that using starter is just about the only way to make bread. You have to let it rise just the right amount, or else it won’t be as good.”
“Maybe you could make some,” Tobin said, because she seemed so sad.
Elanna shrugged. “If we could find some live yeast, some flour, some water…I guess I could make some starter.”
“We’ll have to learn to do a lot of things,” Tobin said. He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking.”
She looked at him expectantly. “Yes?”
He tapped his fingers on the tabletop, reluctant to admit that he was afraid. “Maybe we ought to just stay here. Until the baby comes.”
“What? Why?”
“I think it might be safer,” he said.
“I see.”
God, was he so transparent? Tobin cursed himself, remembering what Luz had called him. Puny, pathetic. In books, the hero always knew what to do. So, damn it, why didn’t he?
She was looking at him without expression. She must be angry. Her face was a smooth blank mask, and he would rather have seen her frowning. At least it was a reaction.
“With the baby coming, I mean,” he said, knowing he sounded lame.
“I see.”
There, she’d said it again. Still not a quiver of expression on her face. Even her eyes were stony.
“Don’t…don’t you think so?”
She looked around the kitchen as though assessing it. “This is a nice house.”
“And…?” He knew there had to be more.
She shrugged. “It’s not exactly California, is it? I mean, I don’t know what California will be like, but certainly this isn’t it.”
“That’s just it,” Tobin said, relieved to hear that she understood. “I don’t know what California will be like, either. If there is a California. What if we get there and it’s worse? What if it’s like New Jersey?”
“And what if it’s better?” Elanna said calmly. She began tidying up the remains of breakfast.
She didn’t understand. “But what if it isn’t?”
“What if it is?” She stopped messing with the cans and looked at him, hard. “Tobin. I didn’t cross that Gehenna of a wasteland with you to hole up in some house just because it’s safe. I didn’t leave my friends and my life behind to live in a house with no one else around. I enjoy your company, Tobin, but don’t you think we’ll get lonely? Who will our children play with?”
She turned away from him, bundling up the trash and taking it into the pantry. He heard her bustling around in there, though he couldn’t see what she was doing. That was all right. It would be easier to talk to her this way, when she couldn’t see his face.
“I’m afraid,” he said simply. “I worry that traveling will be too much for you. I’m worried that we won’t be able to carry enough supplies with us, and we won’t find enough along the way. I’m scared that too much walking will hurt the baby. I don’t know anything about women, Elanna, and I know even less about pregnant women. Or babies. I’m afraid I won’t be able to do right by you. At least if we stay here, we can manage for awhile, until after the baby comes.”
“Tobin?”
Had she even heard him? He didn’t want to have to say it again. He heard her shifting things in the pantry, and went to see what she wanted.
She’d found a door. It opened into a garage, dark for the most part but with several shafts of light coming in through two small windows along the back wall. Something was in there.
“I think this might solve some of those worries,” she said, turning to him.
As she did, his eyes focused in the dark. He saw what had gotten her so excited. It was a car.
−
26-
“Let’s see if we can get the ga
rage door open,” Tobin said. He didn’t want to inch his way through the darkness to do it. That would earn him a barked shin, or worse. “Go around front.”
They ducked out the back kitchen door and followed the overgrown sidewalk around to the front of the house. The door screeched but lifted easily enough, once he gave it a hard tug.