Page 31 of Hawk's Cry

“Oh, I’ve been moving around. I go where my job needs me.”

“What do you do?” I ask, pretending an interest I don’t own.

“I’m in sales.” He doesn’t expand on what, and I’m not bothered enough to pry.

“You don’t work full time,” I say though, wondering why he’s not in an office at this time of day.

He shrugs. “My people give me leads, I follow them up. Fortuitously there was nothing for me today, so I can spend time with you.”

I raise my eyebrow at him and give a quick grin. “Is this how you like to spend your time? Entertaining a pregnant woman?”

He looks down at his coffee cup, and lines appear on his forehead. “My wife was pregnant.”

“Was?”

“She was killed. Our baby died with her. A traffic accident.”

I cover my mouth with my hand as I try to process that information. “I’m so sorry.”

He shrugs my sympathy off. “I must admit, when I see a lady in your condition, it reminds me of what I’ve lost. I often wonder what she’d have looked like later in her pregnancy. I suppose that’s why I approached you that first time, seeing someone like you brings out my protective instincts.”

I’m lost for words, but try to summon up something. “How long ago did you lose her?”

“About five years now.” This man knows loss, pain is written all over his face, but he pushes it down and manages a smile. “I’ve done my grieving. Let’s talk about you now. Do you know what you’re having? Boy or girl?”

I also try to lighten the mood. “We didn’t want to know. I think it will be a girl. My husband insists it will be a boy.”

“Any preference?”

“As long as it’s healthy with ten fingers and ten toes, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll drink to that.” He raises his coffee cup, then asks the waitress for a refill. I decline a second soda, still slowly sipping my first.

When the waitress moves off, his smile widens. “You’ve got a glow about you, Olivia. You really are a beautiful woman.”

I look at him sharply, but his words aren’t creepy. It looks like he genuinely means it. It’s like rain falling into the desert, any compliment welcome after such a long drought. Eli hasn’t made me feel attractive for months now.

But I shouldn’t be attracting an unknown man. If I were back at the compound, Mouse or Wizard would have made sure to check him out before I was allowed within ten feet of him. But now I can only rely on myself and my instinct.

What should it matter, as long as he’s not going to kill or rape me? No vibes he gives off would suggest he’s capable of that. He seems genuine, a man who’s known such great loss, and someone who’s new to the area, and who could do with a friend himself.

He takes over the conversation. Within minutes he’s got me chuckling, then laughing out loud as he relates some of his experiences and people he’s come across.

In the end, with nothing to go home to except either an empty house or a husband who I feel I’m walking on eggshells around. I do have another drink, and accept his offer of a cake.

When he suggests we exchange numbers so we can meet up again, not trusting in fate to again bring us back together, I barely hesitate. I’ve actually had fun today. I’ve felt a lightness I haven’t experienced for a very long time. I’ve smiled and just for a short while, my mind’s been taken off the troubles in my life. It would be good to have a friend I can talk to, who’s interested in me, and not just himself. Without hesitation, I hand over my phone so he can put his number in, then I text the contact he’s programmed in. I notice he’s named himself Gabe.

I’m almost reluctant to leave the coffee shop when Gabe makes moves suggesting he’s ready to go. But I pull myself together, knowing the pleasant interlude has come to an end.

Eli’s home when I arrive. He carries in the shopping when I tell him I’ve got bags in the car. Whether he knows I’ve been gone far longer than normal for a shopping trip, he doesn’t ask where I’ve been. In fact, I suspect he barely notices I’ve been gone.

When I get a text the following Monday asking if I’m free, and would I like to meet for coffee again, I don’t hesitate.

Eli’s not even out of bed yet, so I simply put my head around his door and tell him I’m going out. He doesn’t ask where.

It’s somehow freeing talking with Gabe. I quickly relax and just be me. I don’t have to watch my words, or wait for a temper to flare. Neither is he indifferent to me. If I wasn’t married, I don’t think I’m fooling myself to think there might be interest there.

As I sit opposite him laughing, I wonder whether Gabe would be someone I could turn to if I find proof Eli’s having an affair.

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