remembering, her eyes drifting around the resurrected
images.
I bit down on my lower lip and finally let my
tears come unflinchingly, too. For a few moments she
didn't notice, and then she blinked and looked at me. "Oh, honey." she said. "I'm sorry I know how
much it hurts when I bring up your daddy."
I shook my head. "No," I said. "That's not it." She held her gaze and then sat back slowly,
suspicion darkening her eyes and narrowing them as
well as she perused my face with a mother's intuitive
observation.
"What is it, Grace? Why are you crying?" I tried to speak, but for a moment my throat
was so tight I couldn't utter a sound.
"What is it, Grace?" she asked, more
demanding. "I'm... I'm pregnant. Mommy," I said. It was as if a clap of thunder had just occurred
right above us. That was how my bones vibrated. She
didn't move a muscle; she didn't even blink fast. Her
lips trembled finally until she drew the strength to
speak.
"Pregnant? How can you be pregnant. Grace?
You never went anywhere, dated anyone all year." I could feel the tears streaming down my
cheeks and dripping from my chin, but I didn't wipe
them off or try to stop them from coming. He came to
me one night when I was in a daze. Mommy, groggy
from the sleeping pills."
Her eyes widened with the shock of her
realization of just what I was telling her.
"I barely remember it, but I know he did it more
than once." I said.
She was shaking her head as if to throw the
words out of her ears before they could reach her