Stone Cold Fox (98)

“What were you going to tell me?” Collin asked, remembering my panic from mere moments before.

“I don’t even remember,” I said softly, lying to my husband yet again, just as I would forever. My past never to be shared with him. I joined him in his tears, and we clung together and cried into one another’s arms about what we each had lost.





EPILOGUE



NOTHING LOOKED GOOD on me anymore, but I’d rather openly display the outrageous bulge that was my stomach, to prove that I was indeed with child, than float around Manhattan like a giant paradte balloon version of myself. I selected a formfitting off-the-shoulder dress for the baby shower. Appropriate for daytime. Floral print, hitting me just above the knee. Miraculously my calves were still enviable. Thank God. They seemed to be all I had left.

The sharp definition my face once possessed had been swallowed up by newly acquired buccal fat, my collarbones barely registered through my décolletage and my eyelids were getting puffier with each passing day. I could not wait for the baby to arrive so I could begin the long road back to my peak physical form.

I wondered what the baby would look like. I hoped it looked like me. It’s easier to be pretty in this world, I knew that much. I also hoped the baby would be delightfully chubby. Everyone adores a big fat baby. Their buccal fat is celebrated!

I wondered about the baby’s personality. What would they be born with? What would they learn? Would I see myself in the baby? What did I even have to offer? My child was going to have a completely different life from mine. Would we ever be able to relate to each other? Would this baby, who would always belong to me, I was the mother, would they ever know the real me if I never told them? Would they be able to sense it? Some primal biological force that would tell the child exactly who I was and where I came from? Where we came from? Could I hide it from them forever? I didn’t know.

Would Mother find the child one day? I couldn’t bear the thought.

Ah, that was it. There it was. That’s what I had to offer the baby.

I would keep her away.

She’d always come back for me, for us, and I’d always be ready. Until she was gone for good. One day she’d really be gone. She couldn’t live forever.

And then, only then, I could breathe.



* * *



? ? ?

HAVEN PLACED HER arms on my shoulders and shuffled me down the hallway toward the garden, taking full possession of the party and of me and thus the baby, a preview of what was likely to come. She went all out with decor. The florals were obscene, an abundance of peonies and ranunculus, some of them crafted into a full bough with greenery, affixed on a tasteful wooden arch, where a large white wingback chair awaited my enormous pregnant ass.

I perched upon the end of the cushion, shoulders rolled back and chin up, fully finding my light with a broad smile that everyone expected of me. The admiration from guests was near constant. It soon became a receiving line for hugs and belly rubs and warm wishes. All of them wanted to share tips with me about motherhood. They were all so giving with the information. They didn’t want anything in return. Just recognition that I had heard them. Never mind that most of them raised their children alongside an army of nannies. I supposed I would do the same, but my eye would always be more watchful. My one job.

Nora Wallace-Leicester arrived. It was her first public outing since Gale’s funeral about a month prior. She greeted me with an air-kiss, a gift and as much of a smile as a woman in her position could stand.

“Thank you for coming, Mrs. Wallace-Leicester.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. Congratulations,” she said robotically, unable to conceal her enduring grief. I wondered if Gale had told her mother anything about me. Were they close? Did they share secrets? I looked Nora in the eye, but she seemed to stare right past me, vacantly smiling. She just wanted to get out of the house. Find the new normal. Show face. Stiff upper lip and all that. At a baby shower. Nora would never have a grandchild; her legacy would not continue. It ended with Gale.



* * *



? ? ?

COLLIN PRACTICALLY SKIPPED down the staircase to the garden, waving at me, his eyes aglow with all the love in the world for the mother of his unborn child. His meds were working overtime that day. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so happy. He had been so broken up about Gale’s death for weeks, but—even though he would never admit something so distasteful—I often thought he might have felt a small sense of relief that she was gone. That tension was gone. The security blanket he no longer required. He could finally be happy with me.

Haven hadn’t wanted a coed shower, such a thing wasn’t tradition, but I coerced her into letting Collin make a cameo at the event. I preferred having him very close to me ever since the fire because I knew Mother would still be watching. Her eyes would always be on me, on Collin and the baby. I didn’t know what action she would take next, or when. And Collin, bless him, could be an easy target. I’d always have to remain vigilant and protect our family’s den.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Collin whispered in my ear, giving me a kiss on the top of my head, and the women all applauded him on his successful implantation of his sperm into my egg. Collin, handsome enough but always a touch awkward, briefly bowed, almost like a curtsy. I had to laugh. He could be charming, and I definitely brought out the best in him. He was exactly the type of man that the girl I was always trying to be would want to marry. He’d never cheat on me. Never leave me. Never hurt me. Look at where we were. The baby shower of our first child. Hopefully our only—I didn’t want to go through the misery of pregnancy again, but I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky. Collin was one of three. He’d probably want three of his own. Oh my God. Would we have three fucking children?