Page 139 of Reclaiming Adelaide

His hands came to my ribs and pushed my chest away from his as my ass sunk into something soft and bouncy.

Our room. My bed. Comfort.

Only then did I allow my eyes to open. Only then did I see his despondency.

39

Two months later

Thebruisingmaybegone, but the heartache and agony stayed from the loss of everything I’d ever known. My parents lay beneath my dirtied knees as the tears flowed over my broken face, intermingling with the sod they’d placed over the settling earth.

I clutched my chest, wondering when the raw agony would disappear.If it would ever get better, when did that happen?How far away was I from relief? Would I ever feel normal again? I ran my fingers through the half green and brown grass where my mother’s face should be, then wiped my tears with the back of my hand and stood.

Jake stood behind me, and I glanced at him when he cleared his throat. Tears formed in his eyes before he rubbed them with his thumb and fingers, holding them against his closed lids as if it’d take away whatever sadness affected him. He slid his hands over my round belly to where his growing son advanced his assault on my ribcage, battering me from the inside like a Mongolian seeking unfamiliar territory.

“Did you feel that?”

“I must’ve missed it,” he said into my ear, his chin resting on my shoulder as I stared at my parents’ headstone.

I squinted and raised my hand to my brow, shading my sensitive eyes to the high-noon blazing sun as I turned and glanced up at him.

“He’ll do it again, don’t worry.” He always did. He spun around like an acrobat at practice all day long until I was sure he’d come through my belly.

“Are you ready to go?”

I swallowed and replaced the drooping flowers with fresh daisies and sunflowers—the ones my mother would’ve wanted at her funeral. They’d attracted the birds she loved, so when I visited every week, I’d catch a glimpse of them before they flew away and hid in the vast oak tree a good distance away.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Everyone’s waiting for us.”

“Did we have to invite everyone?”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around my shoulder, leading me away to his car. “It’s a small gathering. That’s all.”

“But they intimidate me.”

“What kind of friends would they be if they didn’t stick up for me?”

I hung my head and sunk into the passenger seat. He shut the door and jogged around, hopping into the driver’s side, his thigh fully recovered from the gunshot wound three months ago.

“Speaking of friends…” he said as he slid into the driver’s seat and drove down the road. “Have you heard from Monica?”

I nodded and bit my lip. “She’s having a hard time with her college classes, I guess. She said she couldn’t make it.”

“Ah, well, maybe she can come when Trevor is born.”

“Trevor?”

“I like it. It’s a strong name.”

“It’s an eighties name. We’re not naming our baby Trevor. That sounds like a kid who picks his nose.”

“Wow,” he laughed, and I smiled.

I wanted to name our son something sentimental like my parents named me, but I wasn’t sure what name yet. “Australia,” I whispered with a smile.

“What?”

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