Page 77 of Not the Bodyguard's Widow
“I can take Elle. She has the wig and can wear one of your maternity tops. I think Mom even sent her down with some colored contacts. It should be good enough.”
“This is one of those times you will not give me a choice, isn’t it?”
“Do you think I should?”
Kimberly stretched her neck. “No. If those guys are waiting for us to show up at the post office, I can’t run.”
Alex didn’t comment. Kimberly’s waddle wasn’t fast enough to beat a turtle. “Do you need me to rub your feet too?”
“No.”
Kimberly lay down on her left side. Alex continued to rub her back, neither of them talking.
After a few moments, her breathing slowed. Alex laid down next to her, determined at least one of them would sleep.
* * *
Kimberly dried off from her shower as best she could. Having a real husband would be helpful right now as reaching her calves was nearly impossible. There was a sudden strong contraction—stronger than usual. Kimberly rested her hand on her middle until it subsided.
Labor?
Maybe.
Kimberly dressed and towel dried her hair.
Another significant contraction tightened her belly. She looked at the time on her phone.
Eight minutes later, while pouring a glass of milk, she felt another one.
Elle came into the kitchen in Kimberly’s second favorite maternity top. With the brunette wig and brown contacts, Elle might pass a quick ID check, but nothing could be done to make Elle two inches shorter or change the shape of her face. Elle spun in a circle. “What do you think?”
Kimberly lowered herself into a chair. “I think you are way to agile for a woman in your condition.”
“So a jump flip is out of the question?”
A laugh bubbled up. Kimberly attempted to suppress it knowing it would cause problems, but it was no use. “Please stop. Laughing makes me need to run to the bathroom.”
Alex entered the kitchen. “Sam and Dave should be here in about fifteen minutes. They will keep watch from outside. If anyone other than Mrs. Capps comes to the door, they will take care of it.” Alex’s phone rang. He left the room to take it.
Elle sat at the table, frowning at her phone.
“Is something wrong?”
Elle typed into her phone, thumbs flying. “Not sure.”
Alex came back into the room. “We need a new plan. Dave has food poisoning or something.”
“Alan texted the same thing. He also thinks going to the post office first thing in the morning is a mistake if they’re watching. He suggests waiting about an hour after the main office has closed.” Elle managed to talk and text at the same time.
“Why not now?” Her contractions were between eight to twelve minutes apart, but that could change in eight or nine hours.
“What’s Alan’s reasoning?” asked Alex.
Elle looked up from her phone. “The PO boxes are still accessible when the office is closed, so any employees will have left. Also, it isn’t as likely that there will be other people around if things get dangerous.”
“Makes sense. That also gives Dave time to recover or me to find a local security guard to fill in for him.”
“Ugh, I hate waiting.” The weak argument wouldn’t sway them. Hiding her phone under the table, Kimberly googled ways to stop contractions. Drinking water and lying on her left side. Both were doable and wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary. “Anyone want to join me for aPoldarkmarathon?”Please say no.
