he said, before turning back towards his ‘special’ table where his breakfast cereal waited. His self-assured confidence reminded Lorna of his natural mother. Her heart ached with the reminder of Natasha.
“I will ba-ah-honeybun,” Lorna stammered, turning her gaze towards Mariam. “Be good for Nana.”
Concentrating on his Cheerios and making pictures with the O’s all over his toddler table, he had tuned her out. Straightening, Lorna cast Mariam a sad smile. “Reminds me more of Natasha every day.”
The mention of Kris’s mother—Natasha—brought her best friend’s face swimming clearly into view. Natasha had been one of those rarities in the modern age. She died during childbirth, leaving Kris as much an orphan as Lorna had been.
With vivid reflection, Lorna recalled her last conversation with Natasha.
“Promise me,” Natasha panted, her words strained. Lorna nodded encouragement and held tight to her hand while Mariam mopped her brow. “Promise me if something happens to me, you’ll take care of the baby. Don’t let what happened to you happen to my baby.”
“Shush, don’t talk like that, Tasha,” Lorna whispered amongst the mayhem of the doctors and nurses fluttering around, preparing for the emergency cesarean section. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“Do you want us to call the father, love? Shouldn’t he know?” Mariam prompted.
Natasha’s tired eyes fluttered before her old spark lit briefly. “Fucking junkie doesn’t remember his own name, let alone mine,” she ended on a whisper, laying her head back on the pillow, seeming to gather strength. “He’s dead to me and mine.”
“We have to move her,” the nurse said gently. She walked around the bed to pick up Natasha’s wrist, counting the pulse beats. “The OR is ready.”
Lorna blinked misty eyes at Mariam, not having heard what she said. “What was that? Sorry?”
Mariam’s words brought her back to the present as Lorna watched the older lady cross herself. “God rest her soul and thank the good Lord for sending us you when he did.”
Mariam’s words, however well intended, made Lorna uncomfortable. A childhood of unanswered prayers left her skeptical. This combined with how the older woman always made it sound as though Lorna had somehow done something good for being fostered onto them, when in fact, the Cobalts were her second chance at a family, a home and they gave her the sister of her heart, Natasha. And, of course through Natasha, Kris.
Lorna dabbed her eyes and stood. She straightened her pencil skirt and gathered up her case and purse. Her feelings of disquiet collided with the cozy kitchen and she sighed heavily. “I’ve been summoned. The meeting’s at two-thirty, but I should be home for supper.”
“Poor dear, not that June woman again.” Mariam returned to the kitchen sink to clean the already immaculate counter.
“The very same.”
“I thought you sent the proposal through the last time you were away?”
“I did. I’m hoping this meeting is for final decisions and next steps.” Lorna crossed her fingers superstitiously in the air before reaching for the doorknob. “If it’s not next steps and we’re back to square one, I swear I’ll scream.”
***
If curiosity killed that damned cat, then I’m doomed .
With the television fixed on Sports Central, Mitch sprawled across his bed, surfing the net for information on Lorna. This is a mistake. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant. Time slipped away as though it hadn’t been five years since he last saw those amber eyes smolder. He closed his own eyes and the touch of her lips left him yearning like he never had for another woman. I’ve tried . “God, how I’ve tried.”
The world according to Google beckoned to him as he searched out the one woman he vowed he would never think of again.
The website U popped up next to her name: Lorna Tymchuk, President and Founder of U
“I will ba-ah-honeybun,” Lorna stammered, turning her gaze towards Mariam. “Be good for Nana.”
Concentrating on his Cheerios and making pictures with the O’s all over his toddler table, he had tuned her out. Straightening, Lorna cast Mariam a sad smile. “Reminds me more of Natasha every day.”
The mention of Kris’s mother—Natasha—brought her best friend’s face swimming clearly into view. Natasha had been one of those rarities in the modern age. She died during childbirth, leaving Kris as much an orphan as Lorna had been.
With vivid reflection, Lorna recalled her last conversation with Natasha.
“Promise me,” Natasha panted, her words strained. Lorna nodded encouragement and held tight to her hand while Mariam mopped her brow. “Promise me if something happens to me, you’ll take care of the baby. Don’t let what happened to you happen to my baby.”
“Shush, don’t talk like that, Tasha,” Lorna whispered amongst the mayhem of the doctors and nurses fluttering around, preparing for the emergency cesarean section. “It’ll all be over soon.”
“Do you want us to call the father, love? Shouldn’t he know?” Mariam prompted.
Natasha’s tired eyes fluttered before her old spark lit briefly. “Fucking junkie doesn’t remember his own name, let alone mine,” she ended on a whisper, laying her head back on the pillow, seeming to gather strength. “He’s dead to me and mine.”
“We have to move her,” the nurse said gently. She walked around the bed to pick up Natasha’s wrist, counting the pulse beats. “The OR is ready.”
Lorna blinked misty eyes at Mariam, not having heard what she said. “What was that? Sorry?”
Mariam’s words brought her back to the present as Lorna watched the older lady cross herself. “God rest her soul and thank the good Lord for sending us you when he did.”
Mariam’s words, however well intended, made Lorna uncomfortable. A childhood of unanswered prayers left her skeptical. This combined with how the older woman always made it sound as though Lorna had somehow done something good for being fostered onto them, when in fact, the Cobalts were her second chance at a family, a home and they gave her the sister of her heart, Natasha. And, of course through Natasha, Kris.
Lorna dabbed her eyes and stood. She straightened her pencil skirt and gathered up her case and purse. Her feelings of disquiet collided with the cozy kitchen and she sighed heavily. “I’ve been summoned. The meeting’s at two-thirty, but I should be home for supper.”
“Poor dear, not that June woman again.” Mariam returned to the kitchen sink to clean the already immaculate counter.
“The very same.”
“I thought you sent the proposal through the last time you were away?”
“I did. I’m hoping this meeting is for final decisions and next steps.” Lorna crossed her fingers superstitiously in the air before reaching for the doorknob. “If it’s not next steps and we’re back to square one, I swear I’ll scream.”
***
If curiosity killed that damned cat, then I’m doomed .
With the television fixed on Sports Central, Mitch sprawled across his bed, surfing the net for information on Lorna. This is a mistake. But he couldn’t seem to help himself. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitant. Time slipped away as though it hadn’t been five years since he last saw those amber eyes smolder. He closed his own eyes and the touch of her lips left him yearning like he never had for another woman. I’ve tried . “God, how I’ve tried.”
The world according to Google beckoned to him as he searched out the one woman he vowed he would never think of again.
The website U popped up next to her name: Lorna Tymchuk, President and Founder of U
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