Free Sympathy Pains by Sharon Sala

curiosity prompted her to ask, “What do I do that’s so unusual?”
    He didn’t like being reminded that he was on probation, but he was willing to ignore it, at least for the time being.
    â€œYou don’t dawdle. Being prompt is a good characteristic.”
    Marilee shrugged. “I’ve never had the luxury of dawdling.”
    Justin frowned, thinking of all those days she’d spent on her feet serving people their food—including him—and he’d never really appreciated the effort.
    â€œHoney, you’re never going to have to punch a time clock again. If you want to dawdle, then by God, dawdle. It gives me great pleasure to know I can at least give you that.”
    â€œYou’ve already given me far more than I’d hoped for,” she said.
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œYour name.”
    He frowned. “Well, it damned sure wasn’t charity on my part. I wanted this, remember? I want you in my life and I want this baby. Don’t forget that!”
    A little embarrassed that he’d revealed too much of his heart, he grabbed his jeans and yanked them on, then put on his boots and shirt, unaware of how touched Marilee had been by his fervency.
    A few minutes later they followed a bright path of sunlight into the dining room. A squat orangevase of yellow daffodils centered the table, setting off the gleam of well-polished oak from which the table and chairs were made. A pot of fresh coffee was on the sideboard beside a platter of sweet rolls.
    Admiring the beauty but a little uncomfortable with the formality, Marilee felt safe with Justin’s hand in the middle of her back. But what would happen in this house when he was gone? He couldn’t stay inside with her forever. She knew she was going to have to find her place on her own. Then when a stately, middle-aged woman of Latino descent walked into the room, she braced herself, not knowing what to expect.
    â€œGood morning, Maria,” Justin said. “I would like for you to meet my wife, Marilee.”
    The woman smiled at Marilee. “Good morning, señora. It is a pleasure to meet you and an even greater pleasure to know that you are bringing new life to this house.”
    Marilee smiled and relaxed. This was her first, real welcome.
    â€œThank you, Maria.”
    â€œYou are welcome. Now, Señor Justin, I am assuming you will want your regular breakfast?”
    â€œYes, please,” Justin said.
    Maria nodded, then looked at Marilee. “And you, señora, what would you like to eat?”
    Marilee hesitated and Justin saw it. “Anything, honey. Maria is a whiz in the kitchen.”
    â€œFirst, I must ask you to just call me Marilee. As for food, have you ever heard of Spanish eggs? I’ve been craving them for days.”
    The older woman’s eyes lit up and her face wreathed in smiles.
    â€œYes, yes, I know these Spanish eggs. Poached in a sauce of tomatoes, onions and green peppers, yes?”
    Marilee nodded. “And served on dry toast, please?”
    Maria laughed and then clapped her hands. “This is good. At last, a woman in this house who knows how to eat.”
    She disappeared into the kitchen just as Gavin and Judith appeared.
    â€œWell, I can see you two are early risers,” Gavin said, anxious to get past the ugliness of last night.
    Justin looked at his father just long enough to make sure Gavin’s friendliness wasn’t forced, then turned his full attention to his mother. She was giving him one of her wounded expressions,but he’d seen them too many times in his life to be affected.
    â€œI have a lot to catch up on today and Marilee was hungry,” Justin said as he seated Marilee at the table.
    Judith poured a cup of coffee and then moved toward the table, languidly draping herself in a chair beside the window. A few minutes passed during which time she took three careful sips of her coffee. Then, as if some internal clock