The One That Got Away

“Hi, Felicity,” Monique said, managing a tight smile that was returned in kind.

“Evenin’, Monique,” she said cordially and then, “Oliver! Get your butt in here or I’m eatin’ your pie myself!” As if this was her house and Oliver’s her husband. Monique bristled a little more even though she knew she was being irrational.

“Don’t you dare, woman,” Oliver said, thumping down the stairs.

“Fork, Bobikins,” Monique chided, pulling one out from the drawer. She gave her a look, her face stained with Mac n’ cheese, and Monique was careful to not let her mouth twitch in amusement.

“Just like your Uncle Ollie,” Felicity said, smiling, and Monique resisted the urge to interject a story about Oliver’s messy eating habits to show that she’d recognized the similarity too. It wasn’t worth it, and petty besides, this one-up bullsh*t her lizard brain wanted to start. Instead, after she got Bobbi a placemat and some silverware, she gathered her own dinner (roast beef, thank goodness) and settled down to eat, not saying a word as Felicity and Oliver had their own little conversation while Bobbi’s in processed-food heaven. It was all tooth achingly domestic.

*****

So Oliver wouldn’t come out and say it, but he wanted the baby a lot. Monique could tell just by the sheer fact that she could see how much he doted on Bobbi; plus his own family wasn’t very close – he craved one of his own. And really, Monique kind of got it, because growing up, her mother was all Monique had, her best friend, even the times when she made Monique so angry all Monique could do was hit things and mope. And Monique got why Oliver wanted that bond with a child; it was unbreakable, durable and able to forgive any transgressions – unlike their own parents apparently.

Oliver was the one who his parents had pinned all their hopes on, despite him being the second born of three children. His big sister was married and living in California and his small brother was born with Down’s Syndrome. So, yeah. Monique understood. She could see why he was so pleased about the whole thing and maybe not so cut up about being cut off by his parents. It was different for her though. She and her mother were close; she was an only child. The absence caused by her father’s ire rankled like a sore tooth. She was cut off from her source of sustenance and while she was pretty sure she was head over heels for Oliver it didn’t mean she didn’t need her maman. Especially with a baby coming. Monique was hoping the birth would be a trigger to reconciliation. She’d made sure to book the birth at a hospital where her dad was an admitting physician.

“I love it that Bobbi insisted on going home with Felicity tonight,” Oliver said, nuzzling at Monique’s neck, his baby stubble rasping against Monique’s skin. “Means we don’t have to be quiet.”

The room went dark, Oliver settled himself so his back was against Monique’s side, and Monique fell into a dreamless sleep, the best kind.

*****

Monique woke with a start, pain ripping through her lower abdomen.