weeks, Mila. Just go into the house. It’s your house. You can go in there alone. Nothing bad is going to happen. It’s a beautiful house. It’s the house Silas bought for you, Mila. It’s the house he bought for his family. And speaking of family, your brother worked on the house. For you.
I stood at the front door like a stranger.
My heart kept jumping and racing.
I couldn’t get comfortable at all.
Outside my own house.
All I wanted to do was go inside. Walk around. Look at everything that Silas and Tyler had done for me. I wanted to pick out fifty things that were wrong just to be able to do so and piss Tyler off.
Of course everything about the house - inside and out - was beautiful.
The only thing the house was missing was me.
Silas.
Baby Hank.
The house was missing the family that was meant to live there.
At my feet there was a large houseplant. I had no idea what kind of plant it was. It had big, waxy green leaves. It looked fake, but it wasn’t. I wanted to put the plant right in the front window of the house. The first of many plants I wanted to have in the house. And in the sunroom.
I crouched down and rubbed one of the leaves of the plant between my thumb and pointer fingers.
“You stay here, okay? I promise, I won’t be like this all the time.”
Talking to a plant now?
I stood and hurried off the porch.
I swung by the restaurant, wanting to see Olivia.
She would understand what I felt.
She and Silas were just beyond perfect when it came to handling my insane emotions.
Silas.
Whatever came after perfect, that’s what he was.
Never missing a chance to hug me and kiss me. Allowing me to dictate when I wanted to be touched more or less. All I had to do was move his hand down a few inches and he sprang to work. Always focusing on me first. His fingers… his tongue…
Sometimes taking me right there at the bathroom sink. Staring at him through the reflection in the mirror. Sometimes I’d look at the shower and nod. He’d pick me up and we’d start in the shower and finish in bed. It went beyond my sexual needs too. It was him, choosing me. Choosing the new version of my body. The fact that my breasts felt tender and awkward as they tried to go back to my old normal. Or that the pouch of skin that was now my stomach was impossible for me to hide. Oh, and the fact that stretch marks… they don’t just magically vanish either. I had rubbed enough butter lotions on my stomach and hips that if I stood in the sun too long, I’d crisp like a Thanksgiving turkey.
Yet none of that bothered Silas.
He loved me. All of me. The new me. Old me. The in between me.
He spoiled me with his eyes, words, touch… and his tongue…
When I arrived at 23 Bean, Edith and Ma were working.
Then I saw Claire.
“No Olivia?” I asked.
“She’s not allowed in here anymore,” Claire said.
“Why not?”
“Yesterday she was in pain.”
“What?”
“Just those pretend contractions or whatever,” Claire said. “Anna knows the name of them. Your mother got nervous and sent her home and told her no more working.”
Claire whisked by me toward a table.
I went to the counter and Ma smiled at me.
“No smiles,” I said. “Why didn’t you tell me about Olivia? And why didn’t you call me to come work?”
“Mila,” Ma said. “We don’t want anyone nervous. Olivia is fine though. And you’re busy. I don’t want you stuck here if you want to go see the baby or something. It’s all good. We have it all worked out.”
“I feel useless, Ma. More than ever now. I can’t even work here.”
“No, you’re not useless.”
“Ma…”
She stared at me.
She wasn’t going to understand it.
I threw her a smile. “I have an idea. How about something for lunch? So I can take it to Olivia. It’ll give me something to do. I want to see her anyway.”
“Coming right up,” Ma said.
I looked over at Edith. “How’s the horse-riding argument coming along?”
“Mark my words, my big behind will be on a horse soon enough,” Edith said.
“And Thomas?”
“He can kiss my ass… and the horse’s ass.”
I was going to laugh, but Edith was telling the truth.
“Lunch,” I said, holding up the bags of food.
Olivia grabbed them and groaned. “I can kiss you, Mila. I am so tired today. I don’t feel like doing a