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Authors: L.L. Crane
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But there was no denying that it was a rapidly beating and very strong heartbeat.
It thumped its obvious life to me, and a smile broke out on my face. I started crying then, tears of relief. Tears that were so tightly linked to Orion and this baby that I couldn’t even put words to them.
I shamelessly cried rivers of tears as I listened to the baby’s strong heartbeat. I never wanted it to end, but eventually, Garment pulled the instrument away and handed it to Panther.
I must have looked sheepish.
“It’s okay,” Blush consoled. “You were just protecting your baby. That’s what mothers do.”
I turned my head and met Pan’s steely eyes head-on. “I’m sorry,” I sputtered. “I thought…”
“Oh, butterfly,” Garment soothed, patting my leg.
They all laughed, then and began talking at once, about the baby’s heartbeat, how I was better, the fever, and fortunately, food.
I smiled up at them all, my heart swelling. They hadn’t killed my baby.
They had saved us both.
Chapter 14
Fighter
I rested for several days in the dark room. Sergio came and went quietly, never acknowledging that I had taken over his room. I smiled at him whenever I could, but of course, I got no response. Garment, Blush, and Pan made a steady parade in and out to check on me. Mostly to pamper me. I had never felt so spoiled in my life.
Blush would bring me broth and nutrient water. “For the baby,” she would gruffly comment, but her eyes were tender.
Garment could have been a mother himself, and I saw remnants of Falcon and Dove in his fussing. He called me endearing names besides butterfly. I was pigeon, daaaarling, sweetie, baby, love, and a host of other names that tangled up in my brain and my heart. He swished in and out of the room dramatically at least every hour to check on me.
Pan was all business, though. He checked my vitals as well as the baby’s. He administered medicine, always telling me what it was so I wouldn’t think he was harming the baby. He gave me vitamin shots, which made me a little nervous, but he said that my body was depleted of nutrients, and although the baby was fine because it would take from me, I needed the shots so I could heal. Still, the injections made me nervous.
I got to listen to the baby’s heartbeat every day, though, and I looked forward to that more than anything. With each steady beep I heard on the machine, it was as if Orion was calling to me from far away.
While I rested, in between the naps that came and went like a soft brush of wind, I would stare at the ceiling, searching for constellations in the sparkly plaster. I would pretend that Orion was there, watching over us.
Us. I had begun to think of the baby and me as us. I smiled at the thought then panicked. Gods, was I ready to be a mother? I sighed, not knowing the answer to that one.
In about a week I was declared fit enough to start walking around, but I had to stay in the back room. I would walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, determined to gather my strength. At first I could only make about three rounds before I was huffing and puffing, falling into my couch-bed, exhausted.
In a few days, though, I became stronger. I could make about twenty laps before needing to rest. I would eat and get back to exercising. “Walking is good for the baby,” Pan had told me as I was plopping onto the couch after one of my self-imposed sessions. There wasn’t much else I could do in the back room, and I had already taken over some of Sergio’s duties, like folding and laundering washcloths and towels for the customers.
“The color is back in my little butterfly’s cheeks!” Garment gushed at me one day. “Are you ready to start training?”
“Training?”
“Daaaarling, if you’re going to the Asters, you’ll have to be trained.”
“Oh, ah, yeah, I guess so.”
Just then Pan entered, carrying a big satchel, and I could tell that
It thumped its obvious life to me, and a smile broke out on my face. I started crying then, tears of relief. Tears that were so tightly linked to Orion and this baby that I couldn’t even put words to them.
I shamelessly cried rivers of tears as I listened to the baby’s strong heartbeat. I never wanted it to end, but eventually, Garment pulled the instrument away and handed it to Panther.
I must have looked sheepish.
“It’s okay,” Blush consoled. “You were just protecting your baby. That’s what mothers do.”
I turned my head and met Pan’s steely eyes head-on. “I’m sorry,” I sputtered. “I thought…”
“Oh, butterfly,” Garment soothed, patting my leg.
They all laughed, then and began talking at once, about the baby’s heartbeat, how I was better, the fever, and fortunately, food.
I smiled up at them all, my heart swelling. They hadn’t killed my baby.
They had saved us both.
Chapter 14
Fighter
I rested for several days in the dark room. Sergio came and went quietly, never acknowledging that I had taken over his room. I smiled at him whenever I could, but of course, I got no response. Garment, Blush, and Pan made a steady parade in and out to check on me. Mostly to pamper me. I had never felt so spoiled in my life.
Blush would bring me broth and nutrient water. “For the baby,” she would gruffly comment, but her eyes were tender.
Garment could have been a mother himself, and I saw remnants of Falcon and Dove in his fussing. He called me endearing names besides butterfly. I was pigeon, daaaarling, sweetie, baby, love, and a host of other names that tangled up in my brain and my heart. He swished in and out of the room dramatically at least every hour to check on me.
Pan was all business, though. He checked my vitals as well as the baby’s. He administered medicine, always telling me what it was so I wouldn’t think he was harming the baby. He gave me vitamin shots, which made me a little nervous, but he said that my body was depleted of nutrients, and although the baby was fine because it would take from me, I needed the shots so I could heal. Still, the injections made me nervous.
I got to listen to the baby’s heartbeat every day, though, and I looked forward to that more than anything. With each steady beep I heard on the machine, it was as if Orion was calling to me from far away.
While I rested, in between the naps that came and went like a soft brush of wind, I would stare at the ceiling, searching for constellations in the sparkly plaster. I would pretend that Orion was there, watching over us.
Us. I had begun to think of the baby and me as us. I smiled at the thought then panicked. Gods, was I ready to be a mother? I sighed, not knowing the answer to that one.
In about a week I was declared fit enough to start walking around, but I had to stay in the back room. I would walk from the bedroom to the bathroom, determined to gather my strength. At first I could only make about three rounds before I was huffing and puffing, falling into my couch-bed, exhausted.
In a few days, though, I became stronger. I could make about twenty laps before needing to rest. I would eat and get back to exercising. “Walking is good for the baby,” Pan had told me as I was plopping onto the couch after one of my self-imposed sessions. There wasn’t much else I could do in the back room, and I had already taken over some of Sergio’s duties, like folding and laundering washcloths and towels for the customers.
“The color is back in my little butterfly’s cheeks!” Garment gushed at me one day. “Are you ready to start training?”
“Training?”
“Daaaarling, if you’re going to the Asters, you’ll have to be trained.”
“Oh, ah, yeah, I guess so.”
Just then Pan entered, carrying a big satchel, and I could tell that
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