Lucky Number Eleven

Chapter 19

Layla

Only a few weeks ago, I lay here face down, bare ass up in the air with Branch smacking my cheeks and thrusting his cock inside me. This afternoon, I sit upright, my sanity up in the air and Branch's words ricocheting through me.

The irony is not lost on me.

Although I've only been at the cabin for a few hours, driving up here as soon as Finn left, already I feel the peace settling in my soul. The water laps against the shoreline, the birds singing from the trees smoothes out some of the franticness that was starting to build up.

The ride here gave me a few hours to think without the distraction of life. There's nothing to do in a car but think, and by the time my car slipped through the gates, I didn't have a ton of answers, but I had options.

I take a bite of a peanut butter cookie and it breaks in half, the bottom part falling onto my tummy. Brushing it off, my hand flutters against my body and an awareness strikes me for what might actually be the first real time.

Cautiously, like my stomach may not be my own, I place my palm against my belly button. It rises and falls as I breathe. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine a tiny baby just inches inside.

Resting my other hand above the first, a warm, tender feeling trickles over me. Nothing else is front and center in my mind, no distractions picking at me from the outside—just me and the sudden feeling of fullness in a way I haven't had before.

"Hey." I say the word aloud and then grin. "I'm not sure if I should talk to you or if you can hear me or anything like that, but if you can . . . I'm your mommy."

A hiccupped breath leaves my lungs as the taste of the word lingers on my lips. It sounds funny and comical but also . . . nice.

"I haven't really made a lot of terrific choices for you so far and I'm sorry for that. I'm just getting the hang of this, you know?"

Opening my eyes, I watch a boat come around the tree-line and remember when Finn and I used to beg our dad to take us out there for hours on end.

"I promise I'll get this mom thing down before you get here. At some point, I'll stop being a chicken and tell your grandmother about this and she'll help." Rubbing a small circle, I wonder how big the baby is. "You're still growing in there and I'm still growing out here. By the time you get here, I'll be ready. I promise."

I get to my feet as the boat turns towards our dock and I see an older women that lives across the lake waving from the bow. She pulls in and gets her boat situated and heads up the walkway towards me.

"Hey, sweetheart," she says, climbing the stairs to the patio. She pulls me into a hug. "How are you, Layla?"

"I'm good, Janet. Want to have a seat?"

We sit down and I offer her a drink but she passes. "I'll be honest. Finn called and asked me to check on you."

"Ugh," I groan, resting my head against the cushion.

"Don't be upset," she says, patting my arm. "I miss having someone care about me like that. Peter's been gone three years now and I miss having someone worry about me. Of course, I have my sister, Kate, but it's not the same."

"You can have Finn," I offer, making her laugh. My hand gingerly rests on my stomach again as I look at Janet. Her face has some age spots since I last saw her, her hair showing a bit of silver now too. "Mrs. Brasher, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, honey."

"Do you ever regret not having children?"

She smiles sweetly, a simple understanding crossing her face. "Not really. Peter was much older than I when we met, and as you know, he didn't want children. It was something I agreed to before we married. Now, do I wonder what it would be like to have a couple of girls or boys to come visit me? Sure. But do I regret not having that? I can't say I do. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, really," I say, looking at the water. "Just having boy problems, that's all."

"Oh, dear, you'll always have boy problems. I had them until the week Peter died," she laughs. "He was always telling me he'd do something and not do it or not drinking his vitamin drink or leaving candy wrappers on the floor beside his chair. He could be infuriating."

"I think mine are a little more complicated than that."

"Can I give you some unsolicited advice?"

"I wish you would."

She thinks for a long moment, touching the side of her face as she measures her words. "Everything in life is on some unseen, coordinated timing mechanism. Think about it. Everything is circling, staying in perfect harmony every day despite what humankind wants or needs or thinks. The Earth circles the Sun, the Moon circles the Earth, even our heartbeats are timed. Correct?"

"Correct."

"As you go through your life, Layla, remember that. Nothing is random and nothing is coincidence. Everything is running on a schedule, a pattern that we don't see or control. When Peter passed away, I remember wishing he'd have made it to see spring. It was his favorite time of year with the flowers blooming and the waters warming. But spring that year came with the death of many of our friends, the closing of two of his favorite businesses in town, and such horrible politics. I realized then why he was taken from me early. He would've hated that spring."

"I'm sorry he's gone, Mrs. Brasher. He was such a lovely man. I can't see a pink carnation and not think of the bushes that line your driveway."

She smiles with pride. "Thank you. It means a lot that he's remembered fondly." She looks back to the water. "I brought you some dinner. Finn said to make sure you're eating so I made some Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Are you hungry?"

My stomach rumbles, my mouth watering at the thought. "I'm starving, actually. I didn't bring groceries or call Henry to fill the fridge before I came," I say, referring to the handyman that keeps up the cabin while we aren't here.

"Follow me to the boat, if you don't mind, and collect your dinner, sweet girl. I need to get back home to let Mitsy out. She's been so good about not going potty in the house, but I don't want to keep her too long."

We rise and I follow her down the long, narrow path to the water. She hands me a picnic basket and a jug of tea. "Here you go. If you need anything, you call me."

"I'll be fine, Mrs. Brasher. Thank you for this. Honestly."

She pats my hand before untying her boat. "Remember what I said about timing, Layla James. Life is timed to a watch we don't control. Things happen today to set up things later that we can't predict or see or imagine. Don't fight it. Embrace it."

With a little wave, the boat drifts away from the dock. I trek back to the house with my dinner and a little food for thought too.