Page 4 of Ruined Vows
“I know, I’m sorry,” she replies as she pulls back. “You’re here for a fix?”
“Of course,” I happily reply.
“You can leave your purse here. I’ll lock my office.”
I set my pink bag on the floor under her desk. “We’re understaffed, but I’ll pull some strings on the baby wing.”
I turn and follow her to the second floor.
“What have you been up to?” I ask.
“Work, what else is there?” She chuckles.
I know she loves her job. She handles the grants for the center. It’s a low-paying job, but it’s a job she loves.
There are days I’m envious of her. She’s found her mission in life. And it’s a noble one.
Me?
I haven’t figured out what I want to do–yet.
I’m using the summer to decompress and think about my future. My ability to translate foreign languages is a plus. I can help my brothers with our foreign distributors and translate contracts because we import and export legitimate goods as a front for illegal contraband.
I’m considering earning a law degree, but I’m hesitantabout staying in one location for four years. That’s partly why I loved living in Switzerland. It was convenient for a quick getaway. I could be anywhere in the world in a day.
My brother knows I change my mind like I change my clothes. I have no time for men because I move with the wind. Time is of the essence, and I must make a decision about my future soon, but I’m content with volunteering for the time being.
“How are you feeling? Are your nightmares subsiding?” Joanne isn’t one to pry. She knows I’ve had a trauma, but she’s safer not knowing the grisly details.
“No. I wish.” I sigh.
“I’m sure the babies’ coos will get your mind off it.”
“You’re the best.” I smile. My shoes click on the tile. “I’m so happy to see you. You’re amazing.”
The truth is, she’s the sister I never knew I needed.
We’re in different income brackets, but it doesn’t phase us. I buy drinks when we go out. She protests, but I insist.
I give her outfits and tell her they are collecting cobwebs in my closet, which would be true if they ever made it to my closet.
She’s a professional who attends events and, looking successful, helps raise money, or so I tell myself.
The truth is that I enjoy making the people I love happy.
“Here we are,” she announces as she puts a code in the electronic pad and pulls the door open.
I step inside the nursery. It’s a large room, and it breaks my heart that it’s filled with babies no one wanted.
“We just got a newborn yesterday. She’s over there,” she says, nodding toward the other side of the room. I follow her, and I’m anxious. Babies have an innate ability to turn me into a puddle of goo.
I’m an expert in martial arts, but a baby lays me flat out without even lifting a finger.
They are my kryptonite.
I pick up the tiny baby in the clear bin. Her face is a bit red, and her lips pucker as if she were going to cry.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” I whisper. My voice soothes her, and she nestles into my arms—her lips purse in a soft little O.
