eyes. And riding those tears was the shame of her past.
A shame she couldn’t hold in for another day, another minute.
“I once told you how scared I was…when I was pregnant with Samuel. I didn’t tell you everything.”
Expression unchanging, not judging, Ellis nodded for her to go on.
“At first I prayed it wasn’t true, that my body was just off-kilter. Then I prayed that I could keep hiding it from my parents. And when that was nearly impossible…” The ending stalled in her throat, yet she forced it out. “I wanted God to take my mistake away. That’s what it was to me. A mistake. At the drugstore, I overheard the pharmacist giving a woman medicine after a miscarriage, and I thought, It happens all the time. From accidents and falls, or for no reason at all.” Lily’s voice gained a shake, as did her hand. Ellis held on tighter.
“Late one night, my parents were asleep. It was here in this house. I was in my nightgown at the top of the stairs, looking down.” Even then, it had pained her to think of how long and hard her parents had waited for a child of their own, the endless hoping, the heartbreaks. “All it would take was one big step. Just one, and it could all be over. But when I stood there, gathering the courage, I felt Samuel kick. Maybe it was just a fluttering. But I finally understood that this baby was real. A real child was growing inside of me.”
She shook her head at the memory, at her stupidity for not comprehending such a thing from the start. For not seeing that there would still be consequences. “Now every time Samuel comes down with even the smallest of colds, I’m beside myself. I’m terrified God’s going to answer those prayers and punish me for what I did.”
“Almost did,” Ellis corrected, and Lily lifted her gaze. “But you didn’t.”
“Yes, I know…but if Samuel hadn’t moved right then, I could have lost him for good.”
“But you didn’t,” he repeated. “You didn’t take that step.”
“Ellis, you’re not hearing me.” She drew her hand away, partially out of frustration, though mostly out of feeling unworthy of such effortless compassion.
A lengthy quiet stretched between them before Ellis spoke again. “You know I’m no Catholic, Lily. Truth is, I don’t remember the last time I stepped foot in a church. I just think…you’ve spent all these years worrying and waiting for the worst. But if you ask me, He answered that prayer of yours already…when you were on those stairs and felt your son kick.”
Lily’s urge to counter him ceased, his unexpected words sinking in.
Since Samuel’s birth, her fears had grown and spread like weeds, choking out the roots of motherhood joys. To be worried was to be a parent. But to accept Ellis’s view was to choose life over guilt. It would mean recognizing a sign that perhaps she should have seen all along.
Lily didn’t realize her tears had broken free until Ellis used his thumb to wipe them away. The weight of her burden seemed to lessen with the shedding of each drop.
He started to sit back, perhaps readying to stand. Without planning, she kept his palm from leaving her cheek. And he stayed. He looked at her, as if right into her. A lifetime had passed since they had been this close, their mouths just inches apart.
A moment later, his lips were on hers. She couldn’t say who had leaned in first. The heat and blending of their breaths consumed her senses.
Then his hand trailed the length of her neck. He slid his other hand through her hair, and a tingling covered her arms, her sides. The kiss deepened. Her heart pounded. She moved her fingers over his shirt, settling on his chest. His muscles tensed from her touch. He was strong yet tender as he drew her closer. There were more breaths, more yearning.
Until a voice.
“Lillian.”
She froze. The world around them, which had fallen away, instantly reappeared. The recognition of her mother’s presence hit like a slap.
Lily and Ellis separated and scrambled to their feet. They became teenagers caught in the coatroom at a school dance.
“Your son is asking for soup.”
Ellis averted his eyes, appearing as flushed as Lily felt.
“Soup?” she stammered. “My, that’s a good sign.”
“It is,” her mother said. A pointed pause. “Soon enough, I’d say Geraldine can be on her way.”
And by “Geraldine,” she meant Ellis. Her tone made this clear—not reproachfully, but as a