colors, rocking chair in the corner, and scattered toys.
A white dresser held a table lamp with a train stitched on its shade. A silver picture frame with a photo of a baby dressed in a shirt with the Dodgers’ logo on the breast sat next to it. Her fingers brushed over the child’s face in the photo. So small and innocent .
The ache of loss cut through her belly like a white-hot knife. Tears pressed into the corners of her eyes. She blinked and fought against the compression suddenly around her chest.
Two babies, lost.
One boy.
One girl.
Unlike Emit’s wife, neither of Bianca’s pregnancies had made it full term, and even after all this time, the grief and the guilt lit her up daily.
Prom their senior year of high school, Cal had gotten her pregnant. She was such a cliché. Her life had spun into chaos after that.
Her mother had killed herself, and Bianca had spent a good deal of time finishing her senior year while proving to the judge and social services that she’d been supporting herself and her mother for years.
And six weeks after prom, that perfect night, Cal’s dreams of going to college on a swim scholarship had gone up in flames as Bianca broke the news to him that she was pregnant. He gave up all of his extra-curriculars and got an after-school job.
A few weeks after that, she miscarried. For once in her life, her emotions took control and she managed to ruin the only good relationship she’d ever had, pushing Cal away the night before graduation. He’d been hurting, too, but she could barely handle her own pain and depression.
Worse, she’d felt relief. Like many teenage girls, she hadn’t been ready for the responsibilities of a baby. She lay awake every night fearing she’d turn out like her mother, neglecting, or worse, abusing her own child. She’d also felt relief over the fact her mother was gone.
But the relief had been drowned out by guilt. Cal had wanted to get married anyway, but she’d refused, fighting with him on purpose to make sure he left and never looked back. He deserved better. Deserved someone who was better.
A vicious cycle that had nearly wiped out any hope for a future, because when Cal did leave and sign up for the Navy, the abject loneliness his absence created nearly buried her.
Eight years later, things were different. She and Cal were married and had put the worst behind them. They were older, wiser, and ready for a family.
Or so she thought.
Tears threatened again and she blinked them away. In the past few hours, she’d been on the verge of tears multiple times. What was happening to her?
In the next room, the phone rang, making her jump. Stop daydreaming. Go get some food packed.
Emotions once more in check, she fled the nursery and went downstairs. Maggie woke and followed. The phone continued to blare. Who had a landline these days? Especially at a vacation home they probably only visited a few times a year?
In the kitchen, Bianca ignored the ringing and found some fabric grocery bags. The phone stopped, the answering machine kicking in.
She was filling a bag with unopened boxes of crackers when the answering machine’s message stopped and the beep sounded. Silence followed, then the distinct click of the call disconnecting.
Bianca stared at the kitchen’s extension mounted on the wall. Telemarketer? Wrong number? Odds were one or the other.
So why did she suddenly feel like someone had invaded the house?
Bianca fingered the gun at her back and glanced at Maggie. The dog sat watching her, no sign she shared any concerns over the phone call. Bianca crept to the side of the window over the sink and cautiously peaked out. The landscaped front of the house, a narrow street, and double-wide driveway met her eyes. The street was lined with houses and what appeared to be a five-story condominium unit.
A woman was walking a dog on the nearby bike path. Two houses down, someone was getting a furniture delivery.
No Cal, but nothing suspicious,
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