The Family Origin

Chapter Twenty-Two: MAISIE POV

 After a few weeks, the nausea finally disappeared. Miles and Clara fussed over me while I was stuck in bed. They took turns trying to force me to drink water, mint tea, or small pieces of bread. I needed my strength for both myself and the baby, but it was difficult to keep food down.

Once I could get out of bed without being sick, Miles still treated me as if I were made of glass. He stayed close, with his arms around my waist, like he was protecting a fragile object. No one in my life had ever cared about me this much before. Those men in the tavern were starting to become a distant memory.

Joseph's smile seemed permanent, especially as the months passed and I got bigger. My clothes soon did not fit, and Clara had to give me her old maternity clothes stored in the basement. Miles would often rub my belly, but him talking to our baby had become a nightly ritual for the last couple of weeks. Sometimes his words were just as blunt and awkward as when he spoke to me, but I loved listening to him speak to our unborn child.

Clara told me the marks on my abdomen were normal from the growing and stretched skin, but I thought they were ugly. Miles was never bothered by the marks, and he would kiss my stomach. No matter what, he always saw me as beautiful.

Everything seemed like a perfect dream. This life was the type of life I would fantasize about when I was a child. I had a husband who loved and protected me and would do the same for our child. Clara was the perfect Mother who cared about our family. She shared all of her advice about pregnancy, especially when I was getting anxious about the thought of being a parent. I assumed Joseph was giving similar advice to Miles. We would have a baby in a couple of months.

Clara noticed me rubbing my sore back while sweeping the living room. She forced me to sit at the dining room table and rest while she made tea. I was unsure how many months had passed, but winter was ending. The snow had melted outside, but it was still chilly inside our home. A dampness lingered in the air that never seemed to disappear. I rubbed my belly as I watched her boil water.

"I remember how my body always ached," Clara said. "The pain was the worst in my back, but it would spread to my knees. It all got worse the bigger the baby grew. At the end of my first pregnancy, I tried staying in bed all day, but I had to go to the bathroom so frequently."

"You are not making it sound great," I said. "My body is already so sore and swollen. I cannot imagine it getting worse."

Clara looked over her shoulder and smiled.

"It will all be worth it when you're holding your precious little baby in your arms," she said. "This what women are meant to do. We are meant to be mothers. This will all be worth it, and in a couple of years you will be experiencing it all again."

Clara brought two cups of tea to the table. She pulled out the chair at the end of the table and sat so she could have a clear view of my stomach. All three of them loved staring at me, but I did not mind. There was so much love and excitement in their eyes when they looked at me and my baby. How those men in the tavern used to sneer and snicker at me was a thought I could push to the back of my brain. That was no longer my life.

"Have you and Miles decided on names?" she asked. "Coming up with baby names was always one of my favorite parts."

"We haven't discussed it, but I have been thinking about a few," I said. "I am really eager to know if we are having a boy or a girl."

"It's a girl."

I must have looked confused because Clara giggled at my expression.

"I think you are having a girl," she said. "I was taught ways to tell if your baby will be a boy or girl, and so far I have never been wrong. You suffered from so much nausea and you are carrying high, so it is a girl."

"Anything else?" I asked.

"Have your nails been brittle? Has your hair felt more dull?" she asked. "Baby girls like to take their mother's beauty."

A little girl?

I looked down and ran a hand across my stomach. The thought of having a daughter caused my heart to flutter. Miles and I could give her the life I had always wanted. Her parents would not be drunks who scream and fight all night. She would never feel alone. She would not be forced to do what I had to do to survive.

"What names were you thinking about for a girl?" Clara asked.

"I always liked Briar," I said.

"Briar?"

I nodded. A wide smile spread across my face as a few memories flooded my mind. They were some of the only pleasant memories from childhood.

"My grandmother used to tell me fairytales whenever I was upset as a child," I said. "She hated seeing me sad, so she would try to distract me with stories. Her favorite one to tell me was Sleeping Beauty."

She told me the story the night she died. We had been at the inn for months, and she had rarely been able to get out of bed. In her final days, she had become a shell of a person. Her body was frail, and her breathing was shallow. She was someone I barely recognized at the end. We both knew it was our last night together, and I could not stop crying as I sat on the side of her bed. She held my hand as she told me fairytales to make me feel better, but her voice was weak and wobbly.

"Briar," Clara repeated. "I like it."

"You do?" I asked.

Clara smiled and nodded.

A flutter happened in my stomach. It seemed like the nervous feeling I would get when I was anxious, but it did not disappear. This movement was more than a simple rush. The flutter continued and spread to different parts of my stomach. My eyes widened, and I shifted my weight to sit straighter. Clara's brows furrowed as she leaned closer.

"There is something wrong," I said.

"What's happening?" she asked. "What are you feeling?"

"There's movement."

"Movement?"

I nodded, and Clara's expression softened. Her concern was gone as her smile reappeared. She leaned in closer and placed her hands on my stomach. The fluttering grew to something stronger.

"Maisie, this is good," she said. "This is your baby moving. You'll feel it a lot more as the baby gets bigger."

"My baby," I said in disbelief.

"It's your daughter Briar."

In under a few minutes, my baby had a name and was now moving. This was all perfect. This was exactly what I had always wanted. I never thought it was possible to be this happy.

My moment of bliss was ruined when the stranger came in through the back door.

Nothing would ever be the same again.