hormones?
‘I don’t know. Do you?’
Harper scowled.
‘I think it’s interesting that, ever since you found out you were pregnant – until now, your flashbacks practically stopped. And now, with your doctor telling you to rest, you’re worrying about the welfare of your baby. Which is something you can’t really control, except, hopefully, by resting. But you aren’t good at resting, Harper. And you’re even less good at not having control – especially about something as important as your pregnancy.’
Leslie paused, letting her words sink in.
‘I think that, yes, that streaker in the snow alarmed you. But you were already alarmed about your baby. So almost anything that further stressed you could have pushed you over the top, setting off a flashback.’
Another pause. Unexpectedly, Harper’s eyes filled. Leslie blurred, handed her a blurry tissue.
‘I’m not saying you don’t want to rescue the streaker. I’m just saying you really want to rescue your baby. And that’s what I think you should focus on. Your pregnancy. Your health. Resting. Taking care of Harper. Because, trust me, once it’s born, it’s a separate person. No matter how you try, you will never ever be able to fully protect or control or keep tabs on your child. Your best chance for total control is now, while it’s still in your womb.’ Leslie smiled, talking from experience. ‘Harper, it’s important that you enjoy this time. The flutter kicks. The swollen ankles. The ability to eat anything without guilt. All of it. Even the stretch marks. It’s all precious.’
Harper nodded and dabbed her eyes. Unsure about the stretch marks.
‘This is new territory for you, Harper. A new role for you is emerging, one unlike any you’ve had before. Being a mom isn’t like being a tough high-school kid or army lieutenant or archeology student or wife. It’s going to be a challenge because – here’s my opinion: I think you’re more comfortable with rescuing strangers, protecting artifacts and chasing down enemy combatants than you are with raising a child.’
Harper wiped her eyes. Took a breath. Felt another tear roll down her face. Sniffed. Leslie reached out, put a hand on Harper’s.
‘You know?’ Harper blew her nose. ‘You’re right. I have no idea what to do. How am I supposed to know how to be a mom? Vivian – I’ve told you about her – she was never a mom. I never had a role model. Honestly? The closest thing I had to a mom was my drill sergeant – and he was a guy.’ The truth of that struck Harper as funny; she chuckled, her face still wet with tears.
‘You’ll be a great mom, Harper.’ Leslie squeezed her arm. ‘But first, you have to listen to your doctor. Rest. Avoid stress. Don’t go searching the woods for blood spatter and clues – let go of the need to protect the world and focus on protecting yourself and your pregnancy. Let the police do the rest. Can you do that?’
Harper nodded, remembering Detective Rivers asking her to do the same. But, truthfully, she hadn’t fully processed what Leslie had said when the hour was up. Walking Leslie to the door, she realized that she hadn’t mentioned half the things she’d wanted to. Her cabin fever. Her concerns about Hank. Her friction with Vivian. And, though she wasn’t even sure what they were, her questions about Lou.
The waitress brought a stack of buckwheat pancakes for Sty, a feta and spinach omelet for Evan. They remained silent while she refreshed their coffee.
Sty waited until she’d walked away. ‘We are still Übermenschen,’ he said, pouring maple syrup.
Evan smirked, buttering his toast. When he wasn’t invoking Leopold and Loeb, Sty was emulating Nietzsche. ‘I doubt that. This disaster is probably not what Nietzsche had in mind when he referred to the work of Supermen—’
‘Don’t be so self-critical, Evan. The quality of a Superman is that he fully experiences his superior life and power, that his very existence is a
‘I don’t know. Do you?’
Harper scowled.
‘I think it’s interesting that, ever since you found out you were pregnant – until now, your flashbacks practically stopped. And now, with your doctor telling you to rest, you’re worrying about the welfare of your baby. Which is something you can’t really control, except, hopefully, by resting. But you aren’t good at resting, Harper. And you’re even less good at not having control – especially about something as important as your pregnancy.’
Leslie paused, letting her words sink in.
‘I think that, yes, that streaker in the snow alarmed you. But you were already alarmed about your baby. So almost anything that further stressed you could have pushed you over the top, setting off a flashback.’
Another pause. Unexpectedly, Harper’s eyes filled. Leslie blurred, handed her a blurry tissue.
‘I’m not saying you don’t want to rescue the streaker. I’m just saying you really want to rescue your baby. And that’s what I think you should focus on. Your pregnancy. Your health. Resting. Taking care of Harper. Because, trust me, once it’s born, it’s a separate person. No matter how you try, you will never ever be able to fully protect or control or keep tabs on your child. Your best chance for total control is now, while it’s still in your womb.’ Leslie smiled, talking from experience. ‘Harper, it’s important that you enjoy this time. The flutter kicks. The swollen ankles. The ability to eat anything without guilt. All of it. Even the stretch marks. It’s all precious.’
Harper nodded and dabbed her eyes. Unsure about the stretch marks.
‘This is new territory for you, Harper. A new role for you is emerging, one unlike any you’ve had before. Being a mom isn’t like being a tough high-school kid or army lieutenant or archeology student or wife. It’s going to be a challenge because – here’s my opinion: I think you’re more comfortable with rescuing strangers, protecting artifacts and chasing down enemy combatants than you are with raising a child.’
Harper wiped her eyes. Took a breath. Felt another tear roll down her face. Sniffed. Leslie reached out, put a hand on Harper’s.
‘You know?’ Harper blew her nose. ‘You’re right. I have no idea what to do. How am I supposed to know how to be a mom? Vivian – I’ve told you about her – she was never a mom. I never had a role model. Honestly? The closest thing I had to a mom was my drill sergeant – and he was a guy.’ The truth of that struck Harper as funny; she chuckled, her face still wet with tears.
‘You’ll be a great mom, Harper.’ Leslie squeezed her arm. ‘But first, you have to listen to your doctor. Rest. Avoid stress. Don’t go searching the woods for blood spatter and clues – let go of the need to protect the world and focus on protecting yourself and your pregnancy. Let the police do the rest. Can you do that?’
Harper nodded, remembering Detective Rivers asking her to do the same. But, truthfully, she hadn’t fully processed what Leslie had said when the hour was up. Walking Leslie to the door, she realized that she hadn’t mentioned half the things she’d wanted to. Her cabin fever. Her concerns about Hank. Her friction with Vivian. And, though she wasn’t even sure what they were, her questions about Lou.
The waitress brought a stack of buckwheat pancakes for Sty, a feta and spinach omelet for Evan. They remained silent while she refreshed their coffee.
Sty waited until she’d walked away. ‘We are still Übermenschen,’ he said, pouring maple syrup.
Evan smirked, buttering his toast. When he wasn’t invoking Leopold and Loeb, Sty was emulating Nietzsche. ‘I doubt that. This disaster is probably not what Nietzsche had in mind when he referred to the work of Supermen—’
‘Don’t be so self-critical, Evan. The quality of a Superman is that he fully experiences his superior life and power, that his very existence is a
Similar Books
