Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Sadly, the bond between us is strong by blood but weak by missed opportunities. I haven’t even told my parents that I’m pregnant, although I will. Maybe I’ll even fly to Florida to visit them soon.
A sudden yearning for my mom hits me from nowhere. A desire deep within me to just sit with my mom on a couch, put my head on her shoulder, and spill all my secrets. I’m not sure why I want it now. It’s not something I’ve ever really yearned for, but I’d give anything for some security and understanding now.
“Estelle,” I say impulsively as I turn to look at her fully. “I’d actually like to talk to you about something.”
“Anything, honey,” she says warmly, taking my hand in hers. “Let’s go grab something to drink and sit down.”
I nod mutely, happy to be given this opportunity.
“Bodie… Geo,” Estelle calls out. They turn to look at us, eyes almost glazed with the hunt for a big stuffed animal. “We’re going to go back up to the pavilion to get something to drink. Kick our feet up and relax a bit.”
Geo nods absently, turning back to the game booth to pick up a dart. But Bodie’s eyes become focused on me intently for a moment, trying to discern if I’m okay. I give him a smile, and he relaxes.
Nodding, he says, “Okay. You two have fun. We’ll catch up to you later.”
Estelle chatters about little things on the way to the pavilion, a huge open tent with drinks, vending, and tables to sit at to get out of the hot sun. We purchase some bottled waters but rather than sit under the tent, we choose a park bench that fortuitously sits under some shade trees and is looking rather abandoned and private.
Estelle doesn’t waste time. The minute we sit down and before I can even uncap my water bottle, she asks, “So what did you want to talk about?”
“Well,” I begin slowly. “You said something back there that struck me. You offered up your ear as a woman, and it really hit me… I need a woman’s perspective.”
“That’s generally a good idea when you’re talking about pregnancy and motherhood,” she says with a tinkling laugh.
I smile and bob my head in agreement. I’m almost shy when I admit, “I don’t have any girlfriends. I’ve never had much time to develop friendships of any sort, and because I work in such a male-dominated field, there aren’t many female coworkers I could even bond with. Like me, they’re all into the action and career aspects and we’re all so busy, we just don’t hang that much together.”
“What about your mom?” she asks.
My smile grows fond and nostalgic. “Yes. I actually could talk to her, I believe. We’re not super close because I was practically raised in other people’s homes or at training facilities, but yeah… she’s my mom and she’d give me good advice. But, you’re here and she’s not, and I feel like you’d be honest with me.”
“Lay it on me,” she says, slinging her arm over the back of the bench to turn more fully toward me. Her brown eyes—same as Bodie’s—are soft and welcoming to my needs.
“I’m not sure if Bodie told you or not, but I’ve been having some second thoughts about the baby. About being involved in its life.”
Estelle doesn’t even raise her eyebrows. “He hasn’t told me that, but I would think it would be natural to have conflicting feelings and doubts about any decision that involved a baby.”
I nod. “I wasn’t prepared for this. I thought I was solid in my decision, and then…week before last, I started spotting. It scared me so bad that I had to reevaluate everything, because when that happened, I was not ready to let this baby go. And it’s nothing but a little tiny thing that can’t survive outside of me yet. And I’m thinking… if the bond is that strong now, what the hell is going to happen to me when the baby is born? What will I feel when you and Bodie get on that plane and take the baby to Nebraska?”
Estelle doesn’t respond right away, her expression thoughtful. She leans toward me, and her tone is strong and assured. “I know my son, and I am quite positive he’s not pushing you one way or another. He’s always content to let people make their own way. But I’m not going to be like that, because I am a mother and I know exactly what you are going to feel when we leave for Nebraska. Rachel… you’re going to be crushed. You’re going to be immersed in pain. You’re going to drown in regret. You’re going to hate yourself for missing out on all the wonderful and glorious things that happen with a newborn on a daily basis. Even if you change your mind a week after the baby is born, you’re never going to forgive yourself for missing out on just a short seven days.”