Ella continued to cry, interrupted by hiccups.
“I know, honey, I know. I hate bloating too. It’s fucking annoying.” Jess’s voice was deep and low, and the cadence of her speech was a soothing singsong that belied the curse words. She continued to talk, but most words were incomprehensible.
The intimacy between mother and daughter bound Lena to her place with invisible cords. She wanted to leave, wanted to respect Jess’s privacy, but the soft mumbling mesmerized her.
“I’m sorry my milk had to be replaced with this shitty formula, but this is all I got tonight. I miss it too, but you don’t want to get any traces of my meds. Terrible stuff. I never thought I would miss breastfeeding, but I get it now.” Moonlight lit her face as she paced the lawn in front of the garden house. Something glittered on her cheeks. Tears? But her expression was full of love as she gazed down.
Lena would have never expected the intimidating and infuriating Dr. Riley to have a vulnerable and sensitive side. Why couldn’t she show basic decency in her interactions with Lena, then? She shook herself as if she could dislodge the negativity that way. Concentrating on the soporific mumblings helped, though. The words of love and comfort banished some of her own loneliness.
After a while, Ella calmed down, and Jess’s voice drifted off on her way to the main house.
Memories of her time with Tammy rose. Good memories. The special cuddling time in the morning when Tammy was waking up, the joy of holding her during feeding, Tammy’s delight in simple things like colorful scarves.
Lena stared into the summer night until her legs grew heavy and she had difficulty keeping her eyes open. When she returned to her bedroom, she had again stored the memories in the depths of her mind where they wouldn’t interrupt her daily life.
Chapter Six
For once, the alarm on her phone and not Ella’s cries woke Jess. She quickly switched it off so as not to rouse Ella. She hadn’t quite figured out what would disturb her. Most of the time, nothing but a heavy metal concert during a tornado would wake her. Jess blinked and rolled to her side to look outside. The sun had barely risen, and cheerful pink clouds dotted the sky. She groaned. Whose genius idea had it been to get up with the chickens? But she couldn’t blame anyone but herself.
Bone-deep weariness was nothing new to her. Sheer determination had propelled her through med school, residency, and fellowship, all the way to the top of her profession. She was determined to get back to her former fitness level, and starting the day with a workout was the first step.
Well, the second step. First she had to take her medication. She shook one pill out of each of the four bottles, then broke the diuretic in half. She didn’t need as much as she had in the beginning of her treatment a week ago. A good sign. She swallowed them all at once with a bit of tepid water from the bottle on her bedside table. Ugh. She shook herself. Getting a taste of her own medicine had taken on a completely new meaning.
She stood and threw on her prepregnancy workout tights and a sports bra. Both cut deeper into her skin than she wanted to acknowledge. “Ouch!”
Ella made a sound and moved her tiny head a bit to the side.
Oops. Jess held her breath and waited to see if Ella would wake up. She hadn’t meant to speak out loud.
Noiselessly, she fastened the chest strap of her heart rate monitor. She hadn’t worn one for her workout in years, as she knew her body well, but she had ordered a new one as a concession to her condition.
Ella’s eyelids fluttered once, twice, then her features relaxed and she was deep asleep again.
With a sigh, just internal this time, Jess threw on one of the oversized, washed-out T-shirts from her teenage years that her mom had kept for gardening. She switched on the baby monitor that was sitting on the nightstand between her bed and Ella’s cradle, bent down to kiss her, and left the room without looking in the mirror. She played with the monitor’s receiver as she tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the creaking ones with muscle memory formed as a teenager. Her mom wouldn’t mind if she knocked and deposited the device in her bedroom, but she’d have to face questions or, even worse, encouragement. Jess didn’t need anyone cheering her on. Or watching her fail.
Outside, the crisp morning air was laced with humidity. Dew drops sparkled on her mom’s flowers like tiny diamonds, and birds sang with an enthusiasm she couldn’t quite share.
She used the steps from the patio to the garden to stretch. At least she hadn’t lost all of her limberness and was still able to reach her toes now that most of the baby bump had disappeared.
Due to the baby monitor, she would limit her morning exercise to the garden. She started with a light jog, but before she even reached the far end, she was breathing hard.
Instead of slowing down, she ran faster. She wasn’t a quitter.
One hundred and seventy-nine steps until the end of the garden. One hundred and seventy-nine back again. Fourteen steps up to the patio. Her lungs burned, and her heart raced so fast she thought it might trigger another arrhythmia. But no dizziness. She looked at her watch. Her heart rate was still acceptable. She ran down again.
Counting kept her focus from the pain in her lungs as they tried to get more oxygen into her system, but something wasn’t right. Her second round had two hundred and three steps. In the third, she was at two hundred and fifty-two before she had to stop.
Panting, she rested her arms on her
