Chapter 39 Violet
VIOLET
It was surprising how much better I felt after vomiting.
The nausea cleared, and I almost felt like a normal person again.
I figured it would come back, if not today, then most definitely tomorrow morning, but the reprieve was nice.
I wanted to work. Francine had been so accommodating in letting me have some time off to deal with settling the twins into school and into our lives.
The least I could do was make sure I was working when I was feeling good.
She smiled at me from behind her desk. “So, you’re pregnant?”
I gave a small laugh. “That obvious, huh?”
“The vomiting and hovering man kind of gave it away.”
“It’s really new, so we haven’t told anyone yet.”
Francine nodded like she understood. And I realized I’d never even asked her if she had children of her own.
“Do you have kids, Francine?”
“No. I was never blessed with any. You’re a lucky woman, Violet. Two kids practically delivered to your doorstep. A third growing inside you. You’re clearly someone’s favorite.”
I found myself bristling at the odd description.
After everything I’d been through with Toby and Nyah, and my foster parents and Travis, the idea I was one of God’s favorites felt ludicrous.
And yet I could see how someone might think that, if she was a middle-aged woman with no life partner and had never had the opportunity to have kids.
There was definitely a hint of bitterness in Francine’s tone, but I had sympathy for her.
I looked at her and saw the path I could have so easily walked, if X and Levi and Whip hadn’t come into my life when they had.
They’d changed me. Changed my future. And though I knew that family wasn’t everything for a lot of women, and that thousands of them were happily single and childless by choice, that wasn’t what I wanted.
Judging from the expression of jealousy on Francine’s face, it wasn’t what she had wanted either.
The joy of my life wasn’t ever going to be my shitty paying cleaning job.
It was in the people waiting at home for me after a shift.
My heart broke for Francine that she didn’t have what she so clearly needed.
I tried to be friendly. “How’s your new boyfriend going?”
Francine shook her head. “It didn’t work out. He didn’t want kids.”
I grimaced on the inside, wishing I could pull my big foot out of my mouth. I shouldn’t have said anything, I was clearly just making her feel worse.
I was surprised Francine still wanted children though. Maybe she wasn’t as old as I’d thought. I’d assumed her to be in her fifties, but maybe she was late forties? I supposed that wasn’t too late to adopt. Whip was mid-forties, and it hadn’t even crossed my mind that he was too old.
But Francine seemed much older than Whip, even if his hair was completely silver.
“Are the others coming in for the meeting this morning?” I asked, trying to change the subject to anything but our personal lives.
“No. I already sent them out to their jobs.” She plucked her keys from the desk. “Come on, I’ll drive you to yours.”
“Oh!” I peered at her. “I thought we were having a meeting?”
She pointed at my employee photo on the wall, next to Nyah’s and the woman who trained me, Elizabeth. “No, I just wanted you to see your photo up there.”
“I really appreciate you choosing me. That means a lot. I take so much pride in my work, so it’s lovely to be recognized.” I did feel a bit bad for the guys though. They had worked for Francine longer than either me or Nyah had, and neither of them had their photos up there.
But I wasn’t going to question it. That would seem ungrateful.
“You really don’t need to drive me though. I’m fine to walk or hop on the bus if you give me the address.”
Francine collected her purse and shooed me toward the door.
“Nonsense. You’re pregnant now, Violet. You need to take better care of yourself.
The house I have you scheduled for is big and I’ll need to help you with it.
I would have scheduled someone else to go with you if I’d known about your condition—”
There it was again, the hint of bitterness.
Awkward embarrassment crept up my neck. “I can handle it.”
But she just picked up her cleaning caddy and nudged me out the door so she could lock it behind us.
Well, this was going to be a fun day.
We piled into her white hatchback that smelled vaguely of cigarette smoke. I rolled the window down a little, claiming fresh air helped the nausea.
And then wanted to punch myself in the face again when the space between Francine’s eyes pinched.
I’d clearly been hanging out with X too long. I’d officially stuck my foot in it way too many times, and I needed to give up speaking altogether.
Francine seemed to appreciate that. The silence in the car would have been unbearable if it hadn’t been for the hum of the engine and the mindless chatter of the radio DJ.
I stared out the window, watching the streets of Saint View pass by, not really paying attention to where we were since Francine was navigating and seemed to know exactly where to go without turning on the car’s GPS.
She was right. This pregnancy probably would slow me down and limit the sorts of jobs I could take on, especially as I came into the final months. I would need to get a car somehow. I couldn’t drag two children and a baby around on buses for the rest of my life.
A car like Francine’s might be good. I gazed around it, considering how much room there was in the back seat.
“What are you looking for?” Francine’s tone was sharp, her fingers white-knuckling the steering wheel.
I glanced at her tense jaw and knew exactly what I wasn’t going to tell her. Saying I was checking out her car to see if there was room for my family was definitely off the table.
I tittered out a laugh. “Just making sure I picked up new sponges for my caddy.”
Francine said nothing, and I had a feeling she knew I was lying.
Why was this drive taking so long?
As soon as she stopped the car in front of a house somewhere on the border of Saint View and Providence, I got out, grabbing my things from the back seat and piling them up into my arms before Francine could tell me not to.
I hurried toward the front door, rapping my knuckles across the wood while Francine followed more slowly behind me.
There was no noise from within, and I peered back at Francine coming up the path with a mop in her hand. “Did the owners say they wouldn’t be home?”
She nodded. “There’s a key beneath the mat.”
I bent and lifted it, finding the single silver key beneath and fitting it to the lock. Juggling my supplies and purse in one hand, I pushed through the doorway, calling out loudly, “Cleaning!” just in case someone was actually home and just hadn’t heard my knock.
A noise came back, and I stopped, just inside the large living area. “Hello?”
The noise came again.
Not a person calling back from the kitchen or one of the upstairs bedrooms. It was a weak moan.
One filled with pain and terror.
Hairs on the back of my neck stood up. My fingers trembled. My body reacting to the situation before my brain could even comprehend what I’d walked into.
A teddy bear sitting on the bookshelf caught my eye.
I spun around.
Francine stood in the doorway; a gun pointed right at my belly.
I shook my head, backing up a step. “Francine?”
Her eyes were dull. Her mouth twisted in a line. “Three…” She whispered. “Two…”
My entire body screamed no. My brain shut down.
I was back in that warehouse. Back on the bluffs.
Back at the mercy of a madman.
Or a madwoman.
I clutched my arms around my belly, like that might save my baby from a bullet. On instinct, I stepped back, away from the gun.
The mechanical whirr was all I heard before I fell, my body hitting a cold, hard floor beneath. Pain registered for only the briefest of seconds, then my head met stone and the entire world went peacefully black.
“Vi! Violet!”
My head splintered, my brain rattling from side to side. I winced at the sound of my name, even though the person saying it was clearly trying to be quiet.
I blinked my eyes open groggily and did a double take at the woman kneeling over me.
A sob rose up my throat so quick I had no chance of holding it back.
Tears poured down my face, and I shook my head, even though it only made it hurt more. “No,” I moaned miserably. “No.”
“Violet!” Nyah whisper-shouted again, her voice hoarse.
I clutched her fingers. They were cold, but she squeezed me back tight.
Why did she feel so real? Was it me who was dead? Confusing thoughts fluttered around my brain, none of them sticking long enough to become clear in the fog. “You’re dead,” I whispered.
She brought her face closer to mine. So close I could smell her, though she didn’t smell like the Nyah I knew. The Nyah I’d known had smelled of pretty, delicate perfumes that had always reminded me of fruit and summer.
This version of Nyah smelled like dirt and sweat and worse.
My nausea came back full force, and it seemed cruel that if I was dead, I was still suffering with morning sickness.
“Not dead,” she practically whispered. “Though I have wished I was, more than once.” Her voice caught on a sob, and she pulled my head onto her lap. “I’m so scared.”
I couldn’t keep up. I had no idea where we were or why she was shaking so bad. All I knew was I wanted to comfort her, and that I’d missed her, and if she wasn’t dead then maybe neither was I. I turned onto my side and hugged her around her middle, my face pressing into her belly.
And the tiny bump there.
I glanced up at her. “Nyah? Are you pregnant?”
A tear spilled down her cheek, and she covered her belly with her hand, hiccupping on a sob. She shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. I was…I missed two periods, so I did a test the morning I came here.” She wrapped her fingers around mine and squeezed them. “But I’m bleeding.”
“Oh God, Nyah.” I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched my stomach. “I’m pregnant too.”