Page 63 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
“He knew about you. I never would have guessed. You know, of all the things I’ve been upset with him about, his not knowing I was pregnant was the biggest worry. I never got to share you with him.”
Push.
“But he knew. It isn’t fair. I would have liked to have a memory of him holding us, just one night, just one hour. Instead, he moved to another bedroom. He said he wanted to protect us. But—” Tears streamed down Kimberly’s face, and she slapped the water, splashing the window.
The baby didn’t move.
“Are you listening?” Kimberly rubbed her stomach. “He tried to save us, but why didn’t he tell me? Surely he could have found a way. And a birthday card? Why not something we could have found in March, like on St. Patrick’s Day, or on Easter, in April? How dumb. We could have been killed!”
Kick.
“There you are. You don’t like it when Mommy raises her voice? Sorry. I don’t know what to feel. Sad, glad, mad, bad. I thought I had moved past what was once us. I thought I’d put things in perspective, but he knew about you. He knew we were in danger. Why didn’t he save us before they killed
him?”
Nudge.
“He couldn’t have known. Maybe he thought he had longer. My birthday was almost a half year away. Who knows? The card doesn’t give me enough information, and now I must go back to Indiana to get some flowers.”
Roll.
“Oh, baby, what am I supposed to do? And feel?” I’ll tell you one thing—you will never meet your slimeball of a grandfather.” Jeremy said she was being watched. Did he know about the cameras? Kimberly watched a satellite cross the sky.
The camera in her studio had appeared two weeks after the funeral. Likely, the other ones had not been installed until then either. She hoped.
The moon looked down at her.
Kick.
“I don’t know what to say. Can today be over? Or tomorrow? The funeral will not be pleasant. People will expect me to cry. I shed my tears for your grandma months ago. She would have liked to know you.”
The first tears for her mother had come the day that, almost a year ago, her mother thought she was another nurse. Then the day Mom had said she didn’t have a daughter. And then the day she had thought Kimberly was only sixteen.
She leaned against the tub. What was the point?
“Why? Why?” she asked the sky.
The stars guided the great explorers but gave her no direction.
* * *
“She is still in the bathroom.” Elle sat down on the couch.
Alex tipped his chair back on two legs, trying to see up the stairs. “It’s been over an hour. At what point should I worry?”
“Too late to ask. You are already worried.” Andrew looked up from his laptop.
“What if she is stuck?” asked Alex
Adam set down the book he had been reading. “You could go talk to her the way you used to Abbie—through the door.”
It was worth a try. Alex felt everyone’s eyes on him as he ascended the stairs.
Kimberly’s bedroom door stood open. He tapped on the bathroom door. Surprisingly, it was open a half inch.
“Kimberly?”
Alex waited, then tried again, louder.
