Page 62 of A Moment for Us
The bathroom door slams, and I hear her get sick. I didn’t think about morning sickness.
I quickly clean up the kitchen, hiding any evidence of the eggs.
After another minute, the sink runs and then she opens the door.
Her coloring is pale, and she sighs deeply. “I can’t look at eggs.”
“Noted.”
“That was embarrassing.”
“You’re pregnant, and I’m pretty sure food aversions are normal,” I tell her, hoping to ease her anxiety.
She shrugs. “They are. I don’t like mornings, and I like food in the morning even less.”
“Then what do you like?”
“Coffee,” Delia answers without pause.
I grin. “Well, that I have.”
I lead her into the living room and away from the food or possible egg sightings before heading back into the kitchen to grab the coffee. She curls up against the arm of the couch, her legs beneath her as she sips from her cup.
“Thank you,” Delia says as she seems to settle in.
“You’re welcome.”
“Sorry about your failed breakfast.”
“I’ll eat, don’t worry.”
She laughs. “Well, I appreciate it. I only used to eat breakfast when I worked nights because it was more like dinner.”
“I see.”
“I usually wake up with just enough time to get in the shower and get to work. So, yeah, mornings aren’t my thing.”
“Maybe you haven’t had a reason to wake up before . . .”
“Oh, and are you that reason now?” she asks with her brow raised.
I lean in a little, unable to resist the allure of Delia. “Maybe.”
“Maybe is an elusive answer.”
I want to tell her the words she desires. To promise her that I could be more, give her more, but broken promises are all I can guarantee.
I go to open my mouth, when a knock on the door breaks the spell.
She blinks and then looks toward the front. “Who the hell?”
I shrug. “There’s one way to find out . . .” I get up, going to the door. When I open it, a cake is thrust toward me.
“Oh, it’s true!” A four-foot-eleven inches Mrs. Garner says. “I told you, Marivett! I said I heard that Joshua Parkerson moved in right next door, and you didn’t believe me. But look, he’s right here.”
Mrs. Villafane, who stands a whole foot taller than her friend, smiles. “I heard you, Kristy, but I wasn’t going to just take your word.”
“Because I’m ever wrong?”
