[IN PROGRESS]
Martha and James are soulmates trapped together in a never-ending reincarnation loop. Not a bad way to spend eternity, but they wanted more. They wanted a child. Serafina is born and Martha and James are elated to love and raise her a...
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Though the plate was already dry, Martha wiped it down again as she stared vacantly out of the bay window above the sink. The setting sun was evidence of time's continued march, but Martha felt stuck in a brand new loop. I have lost my child – I must mourn the loss – My child is here – She is not my child – I have lost my child... She moved to put the plate away when she noticed the streaks of marinara covering it. Hadn't she washed it? I guess not...
Then she imagined thirty other Marthas washing off tonight's spaghetti dinner. As well as all the others to follow... They're here too. She turned the water on and held the dirty plate underneath. A sensation from her first life that she'd nearly forgotten – at once heavy and hollow – bloomed in her stomach. James and all the other Marthas... Sera and all the other Mothers...
"Don't worry about that," James said as he shut off the water.
Startled, Martha dropped the plate. It clanged painfully against the sink but didn't break.
"Sorry," he said, then wrapped his arms around her from behind, gently holding her hands in his. "I'll do the dishes. Why don't you put Sera to bed?"
"Yeah," Martha said, as if in a dream. "I should do that."
He released her and she turned to face him. He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek then said, "It will be awkward. But the next time will be a little less awkward and the time after that, even less. Somewhere – deep down inside the immortal – our daughter's still there. She's not gone. We've missed a lot. But with time, we'll catch up and..." He paused and Martha saw James shake away a thought. "Maybe we shouldn't get ahead of ourselves."
Martha nodded, then followed James back to Serafina's bedroom. There, her daughter and elder, one and the same, sat in their bed. The smile on their tiny face was so broad and hopeful at the prospect of being put to bed by their mother, Martha felt the guilt in her stomach churn and swell.
"Sera had a great idea," James said, standing next to Martha at the door. "Tell her, Ser-Bear."
"Yes. I was thinking perhaps I could tell you a little about myself. I could tell you maybe... a story from one of my other lives?"
"Right," James interjected. "Like a bedtime story. Kind of a roleplay reversal, you could call it..."
"We don't have to call it anything," Serafina countered, now looking from James to Martha and back nervously. "Actually... never mind. It was stupid." They dropped and shook their head. "It was a stupid idea."
"No," Martha said. "Please don't say that, Sera. I'd... I'd like that." This wasn't entirely true. Or, at least, not nearly so simple. Martha agreed with James' platitudes from the kitchen. She wanted to get to know the new, immortal Serafina. But whatever game James and they had thought up of Serafina telling a bedtime story to Martha like a parent to a child felt like a twist of the knife. Mostly, Martha wanted to protect her daughter and shield them from the guilt and shame written across their face, so she decided to play along at playing along.
