Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Well…he probably likes the power a little bit. I won't hold that against him.
Thinking of my husband reminds me that I need to pick up a package from the clinic. I head in that direction, waving at people that are out enjoying the early morning sunlight like I am. Porches have been springing up in front of the Fort Dallas houses, chairs parked outside instead of indoors. It's nice to be able to go out and not worry about dog-sized bugs or if a dragon's flying overhead. After years of cowering, it feels like we've been given freedom. The drakoni are no longer insane. While we see them in the sky regularly, they don't attack. Most are simply confused and looking for answers—or looking for a place to call home. As for the bugs, most of them have disappeared now that the Rift is permanently closed.
Good riddance.
I make it to the clinic and peek in. Gary's with a patient, his hand on a pregnant woman's rounded belly, stethoscope pressed to her stomach. Alma's in my old office, though, and I knock on the door. "Morning," I call out as I step inside. "Is this a bad time?"
"Never!" She jumps to her feet and hugs me, patting my back. "Did you take that test I sent you?"
I nod, beaming at her.
She gasps and her eyes light up. She grabs my hands. "Are we…happy?"
"Very," I reassure her.
She squeals, the sound girlish, and we do a little dance together. “This calls for a celebration!” Her dark eyes are shiny with tears. “Oh, I’m going to have to make so many baby clothes.”
“Alma,” I warn, grinning as I hold her hands. “Really, you don’t have to—”
“And clothes for you!” She clucks her tongue, studying my dress. “It’s all good to be a princess but some of these gowns won’t work for a pregnant belly. I’m coming over later.” She nods at me as if it’s been decided. “We’ll go through your clothes and see which ones need seams let out. Are you having cravings? Do I need to talk to the cook there?”
I laugh, unable to help myself, and pull Alma into a hug. “Stop it! I think you’re more excited than I am.”
“Of course I’m excited! This is something to look forward to!” She squeezes me tight, her arms around me. “I’d say we need to get drinks to celebrate but that’s off the table. Pastries? You think that cook will make us some cake to celebrate?”
I giggle at the thought, feeling girlish and silly and lighthearted. Somewhere in the last few months, Alma and I have gone from co-workers with a common goal to friends. It’s been a slow transformation. I think I’ve been so guarded and alone for years that it’s hard for me to trust and let anyone in. But Alma’s good at crashing through boundaries, and she’s someone that works as hard as I do. We share beauty products and swap books, and Alma has all the gossip in the fort, which is always entertaining. We have breakfast ‘dates’ together on weekends, not to talk about work, but just to hang out. She complains about her boyfriend, I try not to gush too much about Azar, and…that’s it.
I have a friend. It feels like a weird, fragile thing, but it makes me happy. In time, maybe I’ll have more if I keep letting people in. I’ll have a community again. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it until Alma showed up at my house one morning with scented soaps, hot tea, and an earful of gossip.
She’s the first person I’ve told about my pregnancy suspicions, and she found a test from a batch that were still in decent working order. I’m glad I’m sharing this moment with her, but I need to share it with someone else, too. So I give her one last squeezing hug and then pull back. "I'm going to tell Azar today. Do you have my gift?"
Alma chuckles. "I'll have you know I traded two packets of soup mix for the little bugger." She heads to the back of the office and picks up a box with holes in the lid, and then opens it to show me the tiny kitten inside. It's the cutest little ball of calico fluff, and gives me a plaintive mew.
"She's perfect," I coo, picking up the kitten and holding her to my breast. "I'll pay you back for the soup, I promise."
"Pfft. Don't worry about it." Alma waves a hand. “We’re friends.”
I beam at her. “I still don’t like owing people.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Ay yi, amiga. Let it go. You just tell Azar keep sending out people to look for meds and keep the clinic stocked. That’s payment enough."
"You know he will," I say, stroking the kitten's tiny head with a fingertip. Ever since the Rift closed, I haven't worked in the clinic. Azar's been fussing over my health, worried that I've made myself sick caring for everyone. He's staffed the clinic with more people and Gary is the head physician and Alma runs the office. Between the two of them, they have a great system and I…don't miss it. I thought I would. I thought I wouldn't know what to do with myself without people to attend to, but helping Azar run the city and brainstorming ways to improve our living situation takes up all my free time. And then, of course, there'll be a slight expansion to our family in a few months…