Free Here With Me by Beverly Long Page A

said, trying to make conversation to put him
at ease. “Even then, I was able to wear my regular pants as long as
I kept the top buttons undone.”
    He nodded and she saw that his green eyes had
taken on the same intensity she’d seen that first night at the
beach. It was like she was telling him something important,
something he needed to know. And she realized it was the first time
she’d shared any of the details of her pregnancy. Before, there’d
been no one who cared. “Now, six weeks later, I’ve given in to
elastic waists and loose shirts. Most people probably just think
I’m plump.”
    He shook his head. “Your arms and your face
are still slim.”
    It was silly but it seemed nice that he’d
noticed that. She resisted the urge to tell him that her normal
34B-cup breasts had somehow turned into a full-fledged C-cup. If he
started staring at them, she’d be the one whose face would be
turning pink. “Here’s the deal,” she said, redirecting the
conversation back to where it had been. “Whether I’m sleeping on
the floor or in a bed, it’s all about the same to Jingle so it’s
crazy not to take turns.”
    He looked her in the eye. “If there’s
sleeping on the floor to be done, I’ll be the one doing
it.”
    He’d said it in a way that made her realize
that it would be useless to argue. “Fine. I’m going to wash my face
while you get the rest of our things. Don’t forget your things from
Target are in the backseat,” she added.
    Once he’d left, she immediately walked into
the attached bath. She didn’t really need to wash her face but she
figured if she’d told him that she needed to pee, he’d have sunk
right into the floor.
    The man seemed to embarrass awfully easy.
Once her bladder was empty, she washed her hands. In the mirror
that hung over the long vanity, she saw that her grandmother had
painted the bathroom at some point. It had been a dull taupe when
she’d left and now it was a beautiful sage green. The
goldenrod-colored fixtures that had been there as long as she could
remember had been replaced with classic white.
    She turned off the water, dried her hands on
the thick burgundy-and-sage towel, and walked back into the
bedroom. She’d laid Sarah’s photograph on the dresser when they’d
come in. She walked over, picked it up, unfolded the brown sack,
and pulled it out.
    It really was lovely. She held it flat
against the wall, like it would look hanging. No. That wouldn’t
work. It looked weird next to the dresser. She walked over to the
eighteen inches of bare wall that stood between the two large
windows. She positioned the photograph in the middle.
    She heard the downstairs door slam and then
the sound of George coming up the stairs. When he entered the room,
she looked over her shoulder and asked, “How’s this look?”
    He dropped her box of the books. They hit the
floor with a jarring thud.
    He didn’t look like he even noticed. He was
staring, first at the photograph, then switching to her, then back
to the photograph again. His eyes moved so fast, it made her dizzy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. She pulled down the photograph and
turned to get a better look at him.
    “Where did you get that ?” he asked,
his voice husky.
    If he’d been pink before, now he was so pale
she wondered if somehow his blood had all seeped out. If she looked
out on the stairs, would there be a trail leading from the car to
her bedroom?
    “It was Sarah’s. It hung in our office. When
they found her car at the beach, this was in the trunk.”
    He walked over, took it from her, and ran his
fingers lightly across the photograph. It surprised her when she
saw that his hand was shaking.
    She sniffed. There was that smell of
evergreens again. Someone had to be trimming trees somewhere. It
was just odd since there weren’t all that many evergreens in this
part of the state. She walked over to the window and closed it.
    “It’s nice, don’t you think?” she asked,
motioning to the