Free Mending by R. L. Griffin Page B

she’d tripped and stubbed her toe, not that she would be carrying a baby that would never take a breath; a baby that she would never be able to hold, to kiss, to love… It was then, when they told her she would lose the baby that her inner fighter took over. Stella’s body reacted physically to this news too, like it knew she had to be stronger than she ever imagined. This would be her toughest fight yet. She would do everything she possibly could to have this baby even though she was a walking impossibility. Her heart already loved the little heartbeat that she’d heard, and while she didn’t know anything about kids, she knew she was changed. Everything changed, what she cared about, what she worried about…all of her problems could wait. This little Fucker would be her priority.
    Now she had to add another doctor to her list, Dr. Hicks was a specialist in all high risk pregnancies. Her pregnancy, not even ten weeks old, was "high risk."
    "Stella?" her mother asked.
    "Oh, sorry. I was thinking," Stella admitted as her mother passed Turner Field in downtown Atlanta on their way home.
    "I was just saying everyone’s very excited for you being home for the holidays. It's been a while. We need to cook a bunch of dishes tonight, then get up early and get the rest finished."
    "Okay, Mom," Stella agreed. She didn't know if she'd be able to cook anything since food smells seem to bother her the most, but she guessed she’d help as much as she could. Fuck. As soon as she thought the cuss word, she wondered how long she would still be able to swear. She wouldn't want to cuss around the baby. She felt a bit nauseated and dug into her purse for a tiny SweeTart. They'd helped a little with the vomiting, so she had them stashed everywhere.
    "You seem stressed. Are you really okay?"
    Stella shook her head fervently. "No, Mom, I'm not."
    "Talk to me, baby." Her mother looked at her with concern and Stella was sure she was probably thinking this had to do with Jamie and him being shot in front of her.
    "I'm…" her voice broke and she burst into tears.
    Her mother was silent and let her cry. She was surprised when they pulled into her parents’ driveway already; she’d cried half the way home. There were two photographers milling around in the street who immediately started taking pictures.
    "They were here when I left too." Her mother shook her head in disgust. "I don't understand why everyone revels in your misery."
    "It's not just me, Mom, it’s anybody in misery. At least, that's what I tell myself." She shrugged and stuck her middle finger up at the photographers.
    "It's disgusting."
    Stella nodded as they pulled into the garage. She got her suitcase out of the trunk and went through the garage door into the kitchen. The scent of some sort of meat cooking made her toes curl and sent a spike of heat through her body. She dropped her bags and ran to the bathroom, where she threw up the Cheez-Its she'd eaten on the plane. She started sweating and she stripped her sweater off so she was down to her black camisole underneath. She immediately got chilled. God, I can’t fucking win.
    Her mother knocked on the door. "Stella, you okay?"
    Stella leaned on the counter with both hands and closed her eyes. She didn't want to tell anyone but Millie about her pregnancy. It was clear, though, that she was going to have to come clean with her parents.
    "Where's Dad?" she asked through the closed door.
    "In the den; there’s some football game on."
    Stella opened the door and hoped her parents weren't going to overreact. She thought about what she’d put them through the last five years and felt sorry for them. "Let's do this," she said with a weak smile, walking with determination down the hall.
    "Stella, baby girl," her dad said as she rounded the corner to the den. He got up and hugged her. "You look…"
    "I know, I know…like shit," she interrupted.
    "Well, I was going to say sick, but yeah. Like shit." Her dad looked better than he