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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year

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Title: Lil’ Love {One Shot} *

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Pregnancy Talk, Pregnancy Fic, High Angst, Fluff, Very Mild Implied Smut, PLENTY OF WORDS

Words: 8.1k

Summary: With Lewis away working and you at home you get the surprise of your life which throws you completely off axis.

Note: I got a request relating to this topic, so I decided to tackle it and include another idea I had a while ago. Hope you guys enjoy this.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate it. 💕💕

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!

****NOT Edited/Proofread****

***Interactive****

~~~~~~~~~

“Girl you lookin’ thicc as fuck!”

Your eyes widened at your best friend Majid. He sat on the barstool behind you with his legs crossed and his eyes glued to your body.

“Rice and peas ain’t miss her!”

“Rice and peas, jerk chicken, yams, mac and cheese, all-a it!”

You spun to him and narrowed your eyes. “You tryna say I’m fat!?”

“If by fat you mean Lewis has been putting in that work, work, work, work, work on that ass plumpin’ it up then yes!”

You hesitated for a minute then turned back around to the workout mirror you were currently doing squats in front of. The instructor that was mirrored in it had never stopped what they were doing, so you rushed to catch up.

“It’s not just your ass either. New bra?”

You stopped again and turned to Majid as you cupped your breasts. “N—no.”

He stood then and came to you but instead of stopping in front of you he circled you as he examined your figure. You would have cringed if you knew for a fact that you were batting for the same team. There was no part of you he was interested in.

“I know a thicc bitch when I see one. You were thicc before but now—you’re t--hi--ccc.” He emphasized the “c” in the word so exaggeratedly.

Your anxiety picked up then and you almost rolled your eyes. If your fists weren’t balled, you would have. You’d been battling anxiety on and off for the last three years. It had even gotten so bad that you’d religiously been on anti-anxiety meds for the last four years. According to your therapist, it was a process filled with ups and downs, triumphs and failures. You remembered a time where it had gotten so bad that you couldn’t do much of anything. Lewis had to be with you damn near 24/7 because your anxiety brought on acute depression. There were times you were having random seizures multiple times a day and considered a danger to yourself.

Lewis, the amazing partner and boyfriend he was, shut his entire schedule down and became your rock. Remembering the care he took with you then brought tears to your eyes. Fighting them, you cleared your throat.

“I have been eating good lately,” you said.

“If Lewis is home, you’re always eating good. Lucky!”

You grinned and turned back to the workout. You were determined to finish the last fifteen minutes of it. However, as you continued, your mind kept wandering from the moves of the trainer and back onto the words of your best friend. Had you gotten out of shape? You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice a few small changes here or there. Some of your clothes were tighter, you felt more filled out in some places, particularly your breasts, hips and ass and your moods had been shit. Maybe you’d been too indulgent in your meals and too busy to take proper notice.

This was the busiest time for you at your wellness and holistic center, Breathe. To be truthful it was busy year-round. There was always a rush of customers and members who went in and out and booked appointments for as far in advance as three months. A lot of your friends thought the point of running a wellness center was for the owner to be chill and hippie like because of the nature of the business but that was not the case.

Don’t get it wrong, you loved your business, loved the roll you played, loved the day-to-day operations and interacting with members and everything that went with it, but your workaholic antics and perfectionist attitude often made it difficult for you. You strove to be on top, and untouchable in the field which meant you spent a lot of time on advancement and creative ventures which ensured you stayed one step ahead of any competitors.

“Hello, aarth to Y/N!”

Majid’s snapping brought you out of your stupor. You were squatted and paused. the burn in your thighs suggested you’d been in the position for a long time because you knew your thighs could handle a squat or two thanks to your bedroom antics with Lewis.

“Where were you?”

The workout mirror in front of you was at the selection menu waiting for you to choose your next action. Just like that you’d zoned out on the last fifteen minutes of your class. Just like that you’d lost a chunk of time again. This was not the first time, and your absentmindedness was beginning to worry you.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just—dazed.”

“You’ve been dazing a lot. You sure everything is okay?”

You walked to the kitchen and grabbed the freshly juiced green and fruit juice from a few hours ago and gulped a few mouthfuls down. “I’m fine. Are we still doing that opening at Deco?”

Majid scrunched his nose. “I think I’ll sit this one out. You know me and Tuesday don’t get along,” he said rolling his eyes.

You mirrored him and took a few more gulps of juice. “It’s not even her store.”

“But she’ll be there. You need to put her in place too. I know you see how she looks at your man.”

Majid was right. Tuesday Antonio was one of those social media fitness girls who liked to post thirst traps every other day and bask in the thirsty comments of celebs, athletes, and rappers. She’s accumulated quite a reputation as a contract girl which meant she entered contract situationships with faves for money, gifts, status and attention. You didn’t knock anyone’s hustle and would never drag a woman for what she chooses to do with her own body and her own time. Pro women all day every day, but her tragic mistake was popping into Lewis’ DMs trying to entice him with spread legs. Actual spread legs.

Even though he’d promptly turned her ass down and informed he was in a committed relationship, which she knew, your ass was not in hiding, she still hung around him like a gnat circling over ripened fruit. Majid believed you should step to her and put her in her place, but you believed the opposite. Since it was Lewis who she’d stepped to with the disrespect it was his responsibility to shut shit down in a way that demanded respect for you and your relationship. He’d done that and whenever she was around at places you were together, he made it clear where his loyalties, and love lied.

“Tell me you don’t want to break that 4th nose job.”

You snorted, dribbling a little juice out on the counter. “Oh my god, Maj!”

“What? Everyone knows it. The 2nd job was botched, the third barely fixed it and this 4th, mm-nm honey child. That surgeon must have been drunk that day.”

As you wiped the counter you couldn’t help but giggle. Majid was petty, shady and rude. You loved it!

“Fine, I guess I’ll go alone,” you huffed out in an exaggerated tone before you walked off.

You knew it would be minutes before he was changing his tune.

Two hours later as the car rolled around to the store, Majid sighed loudly.

“I swear if she says anything to me, I’m going to embarrass her in front of the cameras.”

“Calm down Dawna needs this to go smoothly. She’s worked too hard.”

He sighed again then put on a sweet smile.

“Good.”

You got out of the car as a wave of nausea came over you. Pressing your hand to your stomach, you gagged it down.

“What the hell? What was that?”

“Nothing. Just—maybe the juice isn’t agreeing with me.”

Tou swallowed again fighting the ball of vomit that was threatening to spew out. After a few moments, you had it under control and was looping your arm with Majid’s and walking to the store. From the corner of your eye, you saw the paps but ignored them as you stepped inside the bustling store. All at once the scent of sandalwood and rose filled your nostrils. She’d taken your advice on the chosen ambiance of the store, and you were pleased.

“Aaaah, Y/N!”

Dawna scurried to you in her chic ensemble then wrapped her arms around you.

“Dawna, it’s wonderful in here.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much for coming.”

“It’s so packed,” Majid said as he double kissed her cheeks.

“I’ve already cleared production cost with the sales I’ve made. Everything else from three hours ago on is pure profit,” she bragged.

“That’s great. You put in so much into this venture I’m happy you’re seeing the turnaround.”

Dawna leaned in then whispered, “The rich overly tan women love them some bougie looking but ecofriendly furniture.”

The three of you cackled.

“No Lewis today?”

“No, he’s still finishing up. His flight isn’t until day after tomorrow.”

“Happy to have him home?”

You nodded while trying to keep your excitement at bay, “It’s been a long separation.”

“I do not know how you do it. I’d be traveling with my man to every race stop, every event, everything.”

“Absence makes the heart fonder,” you sing-songed.

“Be that as it may but this coochie nightly makes a heart even fonder.”

Again, you all laughed. Dawna and Majid were your best friends and throughout your childhood to now you’d always had each other’s backs and you took comfort in knowing you always would. As Dawna returned to her hostess duties you and Majid made the rounds of the store taking in every item. Dawna was right, they were eating up this bougie looking ecofriendly furniture. They didn’t even seem to care about the price.

Passing by a group of women who raised their champagne glasses at you as you did, you politely smiled and nodded your head. Just behind them you saw a beautiful room that called to you. As you approached you took in each piece, a bed, a dresser, an armoire, adornments and just to the corner you noticed a crib. It all looked so quaint and serene as if Dawna had picked it right out of a Scandinavian home. It was simplistic in an elegant way.

“Of course, you’d be drawn to this--shabby chic huh.”

You spun and came face to face with Sade. You could feel the eyes trailing to you within seconds. It wouldn’t be long until the paps drifted over.

“And of course you’d be drawn to me.”

Sade giggled and turned back to the designed room. “Tell me something, Y/N, did you come here today to help your pathetic friend out by attaching Lewis’ name to this event?”

You sighed, “Did you come to this event thinking someone who is attached to me would be here and you would get an opportunity to unsuccessfully throw yourself at him? That’s pathetic.”

The sneer she gave you told you your words made their mark. Scoffing, you looked back to the designed room and again your eyes went to the crib. A random thought flitted through your head and with it your hand returned to your stomach.

“You really think you’re the only one, don’t you? You really think someone like him, someone on his level someone as hot as him is only with you? I don’t know which is more stupid, you or--.”

“Your delusional ass?”

Majid slid up between the two of you so quickly you almost got motion sickness. You didn’t even notice him. Sade rolled her eyes then crossed her arms.

“Of course, you’re here too. Riding coattails of fame huh Majid.”

Majid stepped to her ready to deliver on his previous threat of breaking her 4th nose. You quickly pulled him back then stepped in front of him. It was time to end this once and for all.

“Look, I get that you think you’re hot shit. I get that you think you’re entitled to every celeb, athlete, and rapper dick in this world. I get that you live fast and don’t care about anyone else as long as you get what you want. Fine. Do you Sade. Here is what is reality though. I am nothing like you, I don’t chase dick, I chase my own money, my own business. I don’t live to put women down because I am jealous of them, I don’t find joy being a cumdump. You do and that’s cool.

She lurched for you then with her hand raised as if she were going to hit you. In seconds, you caught her hand then pulled her close, gripping the sweet spot of her tricep muscle right below her elbow where the pressure point that you knew would cause the most pain in this situation. Instantly, Sade hissed but it didn’t progress further. She knew that you had her beat.

“I know you wanted Lewis; I know you thought he’d choose you and leave me in the dust, but it didn’t happen honey. There is no way you can take my man, no way my man would want you, and no way in hell you will ever--.”

You squeezed the pressure points harder and she whimpered as she scrunched lower dipping lower than your eye level so she had to look up to you. “Ever win here. So here is what will happen, you will give up once and for all, you see him you stay the fuck away, you see me, you leave, you even attempt this shit again and this--.” You squeezed harder and now she was practically kneeling. “This will be the very least of what I’ll do. I know over 50 ways to handle you, don’t make me go to the most lethal. Consider this your final warning.”

For emphasis, you glared as primitively at her as she was at you then pushed her back before walking off.

“Hoe!”

The rest of the afternoon went smoothly after that.

~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

“They are having a field day with the pictures babe.”

“I know. I’m sorry baby.”

“Sorry? No, you don’t have to apologize. You look badass! Who knew you were paying attention when I was teaching you those Kyusho-Jitsu moves.”

“I was.”

“You looked hot doing it in your tiny shorts and heels. Fuck I wish I was home.”

“Oh yeah? Why do I feel like it’s not because you miss me, but you miss seeing my tiny shorts and heels up close?”

Lewis chuckled. “I mean I only miss em’ because they’re on you.”

“Okay smooth talker. One more day. We’ve made it almost 4 months, I think one more day is a piece of cake.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you didn’t miss me at all.”

You giggled as you rolled around your shared king-sized bed. “Plead the 5th. Guess you’ll have to get your ass back home to find out for certain.”

The way he looked at you made your heart race and your belly flip. “What are you thinking about right now?”

“How much I fucking love you. I don’t think you understand. I can’t wait to get home to you.”

You could have floated into the air right now; his words were that powerful.

“I love you so much Lewis.”

“I can’t wait for you to show me, rosebud.”

Your phone beeped and a reminder for your appointment popped up.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah. A meeting reminder.”

“I hope you know that when I get home your work schedule and workload will dramatically decrease.”

You snorted but knew he was going to put his foot down with how much you were working.

“Laugh if you want but be prepared.”

“Love you, bye.”

You quickly ended the call before he fully broke his dominant side out. You knew when that happened, you’d have a harder time getting off the call.

By the time you made it to your physician’s office you’d managed to tackle five of the items on your to do list before Lewis returned and was in the midst of completing the sixth, restocking the groceries. You watched the concierge service workers from the home security feed as they finished the task.

“Y/N?”

Nurse Marlene stood beside you with a smile on her face.

“Hi.”

“Hi, come on back.”

You nodded, gathered your things then followed her to the back of the office.

“How are you?”

“Eh, all right I guess.”

“Hm, don’t worry we’ll figure this out,” Marlene assured.

Biting your bottom lip, you followed her into the exam room then filled her in on the reason for your visit. As you explained the strange things that had been going on for the last few weeks you realized it had been going on for far longer than a few weeks. With each question Marlene asked, and every answer you provided a new piece of the puzzle was revealed.

When your doctor, Dr Shullah, arrived you went over your concerns again. It didn’t take ger long to suggest an exam and numerous tests. Thirty minutes later, they’d taken more blood than you thought you possesed, every possible scan they liked and even had you complete a few paper assessments. You were losing your mind with the possibilities, and it was wreaking havoc on your anxiety. Seeing how stressed you were, Dr. Shullah decided to put a rush on your blood tests so you could get some answers by day end.

After finishing your errands and a stop at your spa, you returned home ready for a nice bath and to call it a night. It was a long bath where you got lost in work as always. By the time you realized you’d been in there for more than two hours, the water was past cold. You pushed pause on work to go through your nighttime routine and reheat your takeout for dinner. Just as you were sitting to eat, your phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, hi, it’s Dr. Shullah. Did I catch you at a good time?”

“Hi Dr. Shullah, yes the time is fine.”

“Good. All right so I put a rush on everything as you know and I’m happy they were able to get me the results this fast. I think we have some answers for you and hopefully it’ll put you at ease.”

“Oh great. You sound upbeat so I’m guessing it’s not something serious like disease?”

“No, no, not a disease and nothing serious. You’re clear there. I ran all the markers and nothing alarming for anything has come up. You’re in wonderful health.”

Relief flooded you and the tension in your shoulders fell away. Sighing, you allowed your body to relax.

“So what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. You’re pregnant.”

Your knees buckled and your legs turned to jelly making you grip the counter in the kitchen. You couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in your ears and your heartbeat.

“Uh—hello? i—hello? What?”

“Can you hear me, Y/N?”

You had to sit. Staggering to the stool, you slipped into it.

“What did you just say?”

“You’re pregnant.”

“What? No. There’s no way. What do you mean? You said it wasn’t serious.”

“It isn’t something serious as a disease,” Dr. Shullah added.

“What! It’s a whole human being!” You were on your feet now.

Your voice was shrill with panic.

“Calm down, Y/N. Take a few breaths. I find it quite remarkable that you didn’t realize. You’re pretty far along.”

“What?!”

Again, your knees gave out and you were right back in the high back stool.

“Yes. The HCG hormones in your blood is around two hundred thousand international units per liter or IULs. That tells me you’re beginning your second trimester, bringing you to almost 14 weeks.”

“What? 14 weeks? That’s what?”

“Let’s say beginning your 4th month.”

“Four months? I’ve been pregnant for 4 months and I didn’t know?”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“I’ve been on birth control. there’s no way. Plus, Lewis hasn’t been around for 4 months. How?”

“This would have happened sometime in April toward the end maybe the 19th to the 24th,” Dr. Shullah clarified.

Your brain worked everything back to April. Lewis was in his race schedule, and you’d gone out for a visit. You gasped as memories from your two weekends with him from Australia and then Italy flashed through your mind.

“Oh my god.”

You’d freestyled a tour of the outback in Australia and camped overnight and made love under the iridescent star infested sky all night. Then the following weekend he had you sprawled out on display on the deck of one of the luxury yachts he’d rented for you to sail the Mediterranean. Those weekends he’d put it down so good that you extended your visit for a week at first then another because you couldn’t get enough.

“Are you sure Dr. Shullah?”

“Positive. Urine might be misleading but blood rarely lies. Congratulations Y/N!”

“How? I’m on birth control, religiously. You give me the shot every three months. You gave me the last one!”

“Have you been on any new medication? Some can interfere.”

“No. Wait the new anxiety meds I started in—early April.”

“Hmm. Sounds like we have our answer. As I remember, I told you to use a backup for the month until your levels even out,” Dr. Shullah recalled.

“Oh shit. Oh my god this is my fault. I did this.”

You could feel your anxiety piquing.

“Y/N, calm down. Everything is going to be all right. Slow steady breaths.”

Dr. Shullah talked you through your attack repeating all the calming mantras you’d said yourself on countless occasions. It took a while but after several minutes, you were breathing normally again. Dr. Shullah continued and advised you to stop taking any and all medication you were currently taking until she could assess if they were pregnancy safe.

The remainder of the conversation went by in a blur. After scheduling a follow up for the required exams to play catch up you ended the call and just sat there in complete shock. Long minutes passed and still you remained seated at the kitchen island staring at the marble floor thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

“Pregnant?”

You played those weeks over in your head trying to figure out which sexcapade did it. Was it the Australian outback, on the plane going to Italy, the yacht, the vineyard, the tucked away corner of The Colosseum, The secluded late late night gondola ride, against the massive tree by the ancient ruins or one of the countless nights in between. There was no way to say for sure, but your gut said it was the Australian outback. there was something about that night that felt so real, so different.

“Jeeez. What do I do? Oh god Lewis.”

Tears burned the back of your eyes as you began to panic again. Of course, you’d talked about kids, of course you’d both spoken about your ideals and expectations there. Nowhere in any of the conversations did either of you say you wanted them soon. The last conversation was about a year ago when you both practically agreed that kids weren’t an option until both of you were more settled. Lewis wanted to be on his way out of racing not recommitting to the sport. He wanted to be able to be there wholeheartedly and feared he wasn’t in the mind frame to be a father especially with how tunnel visioned he could get. You’d agreed wanting to solidify your company and have at least two more locations and more merchandise.

Right now, was not the time. For the first time your panic immediately ceased as something else gripped you. Fear. It was so overwhelming that you felt as if you were choking on it. Your hand drifted to your stomach as a bout of nausea hit you. You were terrified. What if he was pissed? What if he felt trapped? What if he asked you to get rid of it? So many what if questions zipped through your mind. So many scenarios played at hyper speed and with each what if and each scenario your fear rose to astronomical levels.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang but you couldn’t move. Your feet were planted where they were as if roots had sprouted from underneath the marble and had wrapped around your ankles. The bell rang a second time but no matter how you tried to move you couldn’t. When the third ring came you managed a step. Urging yourself forward, you took another step, then another and another until you were at your front door. After one more calming breath, you opened the door and nearly passed out.

“Surprise!”

Lewis stood on the other side holding a large bouquet of flowers and the most beautiful smile. Your heart went into overdrive as it always did when you saw him while your belly did somersaults, another reaction to him.

“Baby?”

“I’m home.”

He stepped closer to you, dipped down then lifted you into his arms locking his hands just under your ass. “I’m home, rosebud,” he finished into the crook of your neck.

His scent engulfed you making it impossible to think of anything else.

“Baby!”

You held him tight as he slowly spun you both in a circle. You pulled back then captured his cheeks between your hands. “What are you doing here? It’s not tomorrow.”

“I wanted to surprise you and I couldn’t wait another day. I missed you so much.”

Lewis kicked the door closed then pressed you against the nearest wall. A moan escaped you just as his lips claimed yours. He kissed you like a starving man who needed the sustenance that only your lips could provide. Within seconds, you both had gotten carried away. His hands were cupping your ass as his manhood pressed urgently against your core.

“Mmm!”

“Fuck I missed you sweetheart. I forgot what it felt like to have you in my arms.”

You opened your mouth to respond but Lewis kissed you again stopping any speech. You both moaned, then you felt his hand cup your breast.

“Christ, you feel better than I remember.”

His eyes dipped lower to take in the half-dampened charmeuse and lace robe you wore that haphazardly hung off one of your shoulders giving him a titillating peek of the curve and swell of your breast.

“Fuck, you knew I was coming. You’re ready for me.”

Your belly flipped again but just when you were going to think it was more than the effect of him, Lewis dipped his head lower and captured your nipple through your robe. Hissing, you jerked quickly getting overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth on your sensitive peak.

“Fool, you forget we in the car and you got luggage?”

Your attention snapped to Miles who’d just walked inside the foyer with two hands filled with luggage.

“Oh my god Miles.”

Lewis didn’t bother stopping instead his hands squeezed your backside tighter making you buck your hips rubbing your bareness against Lewis. His groan was deep and dark.

“Lewis.”

Daniel and Andrew filed in and that was when you really became self-conscious. You unwrapped your legs from around his waist and tried to him from your body. When you finally did, you had a large wet spot over your robe which showcased your hardened nipple for all to see.

“We’ll get outta here, just wanted to get him home to you,” Andrew said.

“Thanks fellas,” Lewis said as they did their routine goodbye routine. Your belly flipped again, and you knew for certain it wasn’t Lewis—well not entirely him, it was the tiny version of him inside of you.

You covered your mouth, trying to keep the vomit in while playing it off, but you couldn’t. You quickly ran from the room and upstairs to your bathroom. Locking the door, you hurtled to the toilet and released the contents of your stomach. As you puked your tears chose that moment to run down your cheeks. This was when it all sank in, this made it real.

The knock at the door startled you sending you into a panic.

“Baby? Are you all right? Why’s the door locked?”

“I—I’m fine,” you lied.

“Then open the door.”

“Gimme a minute. I’m being all girly and bawling my eyes out that you’re home. I don’t want you to see it.”

Lewis snorted. “Girl, don’t play with me. You know I don’t care about that. Open the door, I want to hold you and kiss you, smell your neck.”

You pushed yourself off the floor and went to the sink to clean yourself up. Staring at yourself you took a few calming breaths. You looked a mess now.

“Two minutes, then I’m yours.”

“Promise?”

“Forever.”

You washed your face then brushed your teeth and after a little while of psyching yourself up you walked back into your shared bedroom. Lewis was sitting at the edge of the bed, shirt off and obediently waiting for you. As soon as he saw you his smile widened as did his arms. You swallowed the nerves you were still battling then crossed to him. Lewis wrapped you in his arms resting his head right atop your belly. A new wave of fear gripped you.

“I missed you so much it’s crazy. It’s been so long that you even feel different in my arms.”

Your body stiffened at those words. Could he tell the changes your body had gone through that you now knew was because of the pregnancy. With his head resting against your stomach, you allowed yourself to think of this event as something real. You were carrying a baby—his baby. Again, tears pricked your eyes. Tipping your head back, you tried to roll them back to keep them in.

“You’re so quiet. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re disappointed I’m home.”

Lewis began to move to look up at you, but you held his head against you. “What? No, of course not. I’m—I’m happy you’re here. I missed you.”

“Plan on showing me?”

You snorted. “Of course you’re horny.”

“Can you blame me if I was? It’s been four months and you’re standing here looking gorgeous and all seductive in that robe that hides nothing with all these curves.”

His hands roamed from your hips down your thighs to cup your backside.

“Damn baby. You feel so good.”

He ushered you to sit on his lap where you felt just how horny he truly was. Your belly flipped.

“Feel that? Seconds, that’s all it took.”

His lips kissed yours then trailed back along your jaw to your earlobe then down your neck where he licked, kissed and sucked your flesh. A soft moan slipped from you, the evidence your body would always be at his command no matter if your mind was miles away. As he continued to tease your neck, he got harder and harder until you were sure he’d poke a hole through the pants he wore.

“Fuck.”

Lewis stood with you in his arms, turned you to the bed and laid you down. He then stood before you, taking in the view.

“Fuck you’re beautiful. Stay right there, give me 12 minutes for a shower and I’ll come back to finish this.”

“12 minutes? So oddly specific.”

“Don’t move.”

With that he rushed off to the bathroom leaving the door open. You laid there for a few moments loving that the bedroom was filling with his scent again. Nothing compared to the real him there to permeate it. Your hand found its way to your belly and a thought hit you.

“Will he be able to see it?”

You sprang up and hurried to your walk-in closet to stand in front of the ceiling to floor mirror. Lifting your shirt you turned in every angle to inspect your midsection. There was no evidence yesterday of anything being off, and tonight was the same. Your stomach showed no sign of pregnancy, but for some reason every alarm in you was saying he’d be able to tell if he got you naked. You made it back to the room then snuggled underneath the blankets. It had been such a long day and right now was when exhaustion reared its head.

As you went over your worries and fears, weighed your options all wrapped in Lewis’ scent wafting from the bathroom, your eyelids got heavier and heavier. With the sound of rushing water from the bathroom you drifted off.

~~~~~~~

-The Next Day-

You woke to a strange feeling. You weren’t laying on a soft pillow but hard muscle. As your eyes fluttered open, you felt Lewis’ arms wrapped tightly around you making you sigh. You laid back onto his chest and relished the feeling of having him home and this close to you again. With your recent separation due to both of your careers, you often found it hard to still feel connected to him and no amount of wearing his clothes around the house helped. It was a good thing he came home when he did because you were dangerously close to feeling neglected.

You tucked your nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled. God, he smelled incredible. You wanted to dip under the blankets and suck him dry then ride him into tomorrow’s sunrise. The images that flashed through your mind were so sinful and tempting that you actually made the move to. However, once you moved a strong eave of nausea hit you and you knew if you didn’t get to the bathroom then you’d vomit all over him.

Scurrying to the toilet, you released it all hoping you didn’t wake Lewis. You didn’t know how to tell him this news, you weren’t brave enough to. Hell, you didn’t even know how to handle this. As you released the contents of your stomach, which was interestingly little to nothing, you convinced yourself that he’d be angry with this change in your relationship. One of the many things you knew about Lewis was he planned everything down to a tee. He liked making plans and following them. He didn’t like things veering astray and he didn’t like mistakes. This pregnancy veered way astray, and it was definitely a mistake.

By the time you finished, you had to get out of there. Having him so close right now was making this even more terrifying. After cleaning yourself up, you peeped through the door and found Lewis still asleep. You grabbed the clothes he’d worn yesterday and hurried out the door. Once you’d gotten down to the foyer, you put on his clothes, grabbed your bag and keys then bolted out the door.

Five minutes later, you were zooming down the freeway with no destination in mind. It didn’t matter where you went, you just needed some space and quiet to think. Two hours later, your feet were dangling over cliffs three towns over just staring at the ocean as its tide crashed against the sharp rocks down below. As the waves collided with the rocks, the salty ocean spray floated in the air becoming one with the breeze then coated your skin. The scent somehow soothed the rolling nausea that still hadn’t left you. You’d sat there for hours and still hadn’t gotten the courage to do what needed to be done. Three hours from then, you still hadn’t moved though your ass was practically numb and your belly grumbling, begging for food.

By the time you finally got up the sun was beginning to set over the horizon and tucking itself behind the ocean. The orange, purple and red hue of the sky took your breath away and made you think of sharing the moment with Lewis. He loved sunsets and sunrises. With the view before you, you came to terms with just what you were afraid of. Rejection—his rejection. What if he didn’t want this? You were afraid he’d be angry and want you to terminate. You were afraid this would end your relationship because you didn’t know what you’d do if he really asked you to. You didn’t want him to blame you for it because you already felt guilty as shit. It seemed easier to just ignore things.

Your hand found its way to your belly again for the umpteenth time since you’d sat there. It hit you then. You wanted this baby; you wanted him to want this baby. You wanted him and everything. You wanted your cake and to eat it too. Perhaps you wanted too much. You released a sorrowful sigh into the air.

“You can’t stay here forever,” you whispered to yourself.

Slowly you made your way along the path you’d walked early this morning back to your car still lost in thought. You had to find a way to tell him because he had the right to know. This wasn’t something you could keep from him.

“Tomorrow,” you said to yourself as you climbed over the chain fencing that separated nature from the concrete of the parking area.

Suddenly the harsh glare of headlights blinded you. You stopped in your tracks, shielding your face from them. Tires screeched on the asphalt, but the lights remained.

“Y/N?!”

Your spine went rigid. It was Lewis’ voice. He was here. Peeking through your fingers you saw a figure approaching you and all the fear you’d felt from the night before returned.

“Oh my god!”

You caught a glimpse of Lewis’ face for a moment before he pulled you in crushing you to his body and holding you tightly. He held you as if he were scared you’d disappear.

“Oh my-- I—thank God.”

He pulled you back peered into your eyes then checked your face and body.

“Are you hurt?”

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“What—what’re you doing here Lewis?”

“Me? What am I doing here? What are you doing here?!”

He was shouting now and for the first time since he’d arrived you saw the terror in his eyes and the sheer worry over his features.

“Uh--.”

“I woke up and you weren’t there. You were nowhere. No note, nothing. I called and called and no answer. Seven hours Y/N! Seven fucking hours! Do you know how worried I was, how fucking scared I was that something had happened to you? I called everyone; I went everywhere. I even went to the emergency rooms looking for you. What the fuck!”

You jumped slinking back a few steps from him. His features softened as he stepped to you.

“Shit, I’m—I’m sorry I just—I’m sorry.”

He held your arms again then bent forward seemingly trying to catch his breath. After a few deep breathes, he straightened. “I was worried. Then I got to thinking that you’d left me, like for real.”

“What? Why?”

“After how weird you were being last night, I don’t know my head went into overdrive.”

He released you then paced in front of you. “What are you doing here? Why’d you leave? What’s going on? Did you not want me to come back? Is it me? Do you not want to be together anymore?”

“Lewis, no. Stop. Of course not. I love you. I always want to be with you. I would have never agreed to move in together if I wasn’t sure I was all in.”

“All in? This! This doesn’t look all in to me Y/N!”

You nodded understanding his growing frustration.

“I—I—I’m sorry. I just had to get out. I needed to go, I needed space and to think,” you rambled.

“Space? From me? What’d I do?”

He looked so hurt. You stepped to him and grabbed his hand and laced your fingers with his. “Nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why? What did you need to think about?”

“Everything.”

He looked at the end of his rope. Pulling his hand away he laced them on top of his head.

“Everything? What are you talking about? I don’t understand. Talk to me. Whatever is going on we can work through it together. Whatever it is I’m here.”

You searched his face and saw no duplicity. He’d always been honest with you. You didn’t know why you expected that to change now. Still, you hesitated. The fear was still too strong. When you didn’t speak you saw his disappointment and it broke your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just leave me without saying a word or answering your phone. You can’t do shit like that. You have anxiety, I get anxious too. I don’t know where you are or hear from you, I get anxious. That wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, Y/N.”

“I know and I’m sorry, really, I am. I didn’t mean to be gone this long. I just needed some air to think.”

“Think about what? How can I help you if I don’t know what it is I did or what’s wrong between us?”

“For fuck’s sake Lewis you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re perfect. You are incredible. You are amazing. I’ve never had anyone love me the way you love me, and I’ve never had anyone put me first in everything and I know that’s hard for you because of how you are I get it and it means the world to me. You have no idea how much I love you, no idea how much I need you.”

“Then why leave?”

“Because I’m pregnant!”

You hadn’t meant to blurt it out, but the words tumbled from your lips before you could stop me and the moment you said them you clamped your hands over your mouth. Lewis’ brows burrowed as he took you in.

“Wh—wh—what?”

He looked downright terrified now. Your eyes welled with tears and before you could stop them, they were pouring down your cheeks.

“I’m pregnant,” you whined as you stomped your feet like a child. “And I know it’s not something we planned or something you want and it’s my fault. My anxiety and depression meds messed with my birth control and that one percent chance they talk about happened to me and now I’m pregnant and it wasn’t part of the plan and I know it comes at the worst time and I swear I didn’t plan this. I didn’t try to trap you. I was scared to tell you because I know you don’t want this and I’m afraid you’re going to tell me to get rid of it or break up with me because you think I tried to trap you,” you rambled half crying and half panicking.

Lewis swiftly stepped forward and pressed his hand to your mouth stopping any further sound.

“Shh-shh-shh.”

The words stopped but the sniffling and whimpering didn’t. Your tears continued to roll as he kept his eyes on yours.

“What did you say?”

You said it again, but it came out mumbled due to his hand over your mouth.

“What?”

You looked at his hand and gave him an exasperated look. Slowly, he took his hand back and stood very still.

“I’m pregnant.”

His eyes scanned yours searching for something you weren’t clear of.

“I’m so--,” you began but again he pressed his hand to your mouth.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. It felt like forever the two of you stood there in the headlights of Lewis’ car staring at each other with the silence stretching around you. As the seconds and minutes ticked by, your nerves increased until you’d begun shaking. In the blink of an eye, Lewis’ lips crashed to yours delving his tongue into your mouth and taking control of a soul searing kiss. You almost got lost in it, in him but pulled back in confusion.

“What’re you doing?”

His smile was wide and that silenced you. Lewis cupped your cheeks and laughed.

“Is this real? You’re for real? You’re really pregnant?”

“Yes.”

Lewis pulled you in for a hug then lifted you in the air spinning you both around.

“Oh my god. What’re—you’re happy?”

When he placed you back on the ground his smile was wider. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be happy? We’re going to have a baby. You and me,” he said placing his hand on your stomach. You were stunned.

“Wait, you’re not mad?”

“No.”

“You want this? You want the baby?”

“Of course, I want the baby. It’s ours.”

“Even though it was an accident? Even though the timing sucks and we didn’t really talk about having kids in real time?”

“Yes. I mean yeah, the timing is not the best and I’m worried about that—a lot, and we may not have talked about having kids in real time, but you know I want kids.”

“Yeah, but with me?”

Lewis cupped your cheeks again. “Of course. God, Y/N how do you not know how much I love you, how much I am completely obsessed with you? How don’t you fathom just how much you own me?”

Your heart melted and fresh tears rolled down your cheeks.

“You want this?”

Lewis nodded. “Yes. I want this.”

“You want this with me?”

“With only you, rosebud.”

For the first time since hearing the news, you smiled. It was a smile that Lewis brightly returned.

“We’re having a baby,” he said again like the more times he said it the realer it became.

You nodded. “We’re having a baby.”

Again, he pressed his lips to yours passionately kissing you before he kissed around your face making you giggle.

“I love you so much, Y/N. I’m so fucking happy!”

For emphasis he lifted you into his arms again and spun around making you squeal.

“Thank you,” he said against your ear as he held you in the air flush against him setting everything in your world back on its axis.

By the time you got back home it was well past dark and everyone was annoyed with you for disappearing. After calling a tow back to your house you set out for the drive back. In his car, because he couldn’t stand to have you out of his sight now, he kept to the speed limit which was a feat for a man used to going upwards of two-hundred miles an hour. With his fingers intertwined with yours, his only explanation was “precious cargo to protect.” It was cute and you’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat from his words. It had—several beats.

Lewis stripped you then carried you into the bathroom where he took care washing your body and hair. Every chance he got he rested his hands on your stomach staring at it in marvel and every time he did you fell even deeper in love with him. Once you both were clean, he wrapped you in a towel then carried you to your bedroom where he laid you on the bed. He then lotioned your body with your favorite mango and date body butter then tucked you into bed before he slipped out of the room.

When he came back, he had so much food, many of them your favorites. For the next hour, you feasted while talking about what both of you were up do during your time apart and the unlimited possibilities with the baby, he’d now dubbed lil’ love. After eating, you cuddled in bed completely wrapped up in each other. When his lips began decorating your body with kisses, he followed each one with why he loved you, how grateful he was for you and how beautiful and sexy he found you.

Lewis’ lips pressed against your belly, and he hovered placing smaller kisses around the area. Watching him melted you. He could ask for anything right now and you’d give it to him—anything at all. When his eyes lifted and met yours you audibly sighed.

“Thank you, rosebud.”

“For what?”

“For making us a family. For making me a papa.”

“Papa? Why not daddy?”

A devilish smile stretched across his face. “I’m already a daddy.”

Just like that the mood in the room shifted from sweet and innocent to hot and sinful. The switch made your heart instantly race.

“Right?”

Lewis slid lower, then pried your thighs apart leaving ample space for him between. His face looked so right framed by your thighs. Nodding, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip and watched as he slowly peeled off the boyshorts he’d just helped you into only a short time ago.

“God, it’s been so long.”

“Too long,” you added.

Lewis smiled as he wrapped his hands around your thighs then yanked you lower.

“Then let me worship you, mother of my children.”

He placed a kiss at your pubis.

“My queen.”

Another kiss landed just above your clit.

“My entire world.”

It was the last thing he said before he did just that—worshiped you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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smolvenger · 2 years

Text

Stella or Essex or The Vicar's Wife Betrayed Series, Chapter 4: Peonies

Pairing: Stella/William, eventually Stella/Male OC. Actually, it's Stella Ransome/Happiness and William Ransome/Being Held Accountable and Facing Consequences for Cheating on his Wife

Warnings: Eventual Major Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, Loss of two children, grief, children, Religion, Slow Burn to the Drama (tm) Descriptions of pregnancy, childbirth, and including a stillbirth so lots of ANGST and then lots of fluff. Foreshadowing. Divergence from canon, Being Anti-Will and Anti-C*ra (Fuck you, Sarah Perry), Stella has to give Joanna The Talk (tm).

Chapter Summary: Stella gives birth to five children from her marriage to William. Two die. After the loss, she receives a sign of hope. A mysterious occurrence gives way to rumors of a creature in her home, a threat to her young family.

Prologue//One//Two//Three

A03 Link

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!!!

Word Count for Chapter: 9K!! (We're speedrunning 13 years and five kids so she is THICC! Go get a snack)

Stella and William Ransome are very happy together and adore their quiet domestic life. They live for each other and their three children, and William also loves and takes seriously his job as a priest in his parish in the village of Aldwinter. They had two other children who died, but despite suffering such tragedy, their marriage remains strong and as loving as ever- TV Tropes, under "Happily Married: Literature."

“They say we live secure at home, while they are at the wars, with their sorry reasoning, for I would gladly take my stand in battle array three times o'er, than once give birth.”- Medea by Euripides, Coleridge Translation

"A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies." Proverbs 31:10.

On Christmas day that year, I felt my stomach turn constantly. I tried to distract myself from the current merriment. Our families had gathered and delighted in games and gifts. I even took note of my in-laws. They were dressed in nice, smooth silks and owned pocket watches that glittered. The Matriarch Mrs. Ransome had several rings and a necklace with a real ruby in it.

They handed me a large box wrapped in beautiful, creamy wrapping paper. I had to open it carefully so as not to ruin it. Inside was a new dress made of silk.

“Why…it’s! It’s…”

“A beautiful daughter-in-law should have a beautiful dress to match, his letters did not exaggerate about you, my dear” Mrs. Ransome said kindly.

“Thank you, you’re very kind!” I replied.

I wanted to show respect for their high station and gratitude, especially as the new family member. I participated in Blind Man’s Bluff and exchanged every carefully selected gift for my in-laws and new husband. But there was a great, queasy pain in the middle of my stomach that not even my corset could help with. I had only had one glass of wine as was usual. We were careful with drinking. William would drink one glass of sherry every other evening I only had one glass of wine on holidays. Was I already drunk? I couldn’t be.

It was dark by the time everyone had retired away so I could flee upstairs to the bedroom.

I sat down before the fire. Its warmth was comforting and standing around only increased my pain. I could even lie down halfway down on the floor, curling up my legs as I did as a child when my stomach hurt.

The door opened and I heard my husband’s footsteps.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked.

“My stomach…I feel ill…” I replied.

The fire cracked before us. Then the color in William’s face drained in a second. His eyes grew big and he clasped both hands on my shoulders.

“Stella…when was the last time you had your…your- unmentionable?” he asked.

We looked at each other. It struck me like lightning.

“Why do you ask?”

“I only ask because…”

“I…I don’t remember…”

Amid planning and helping run the Christmas services for the first time as well as the shopping and continuing social duties to the community…. I forgot to even note that something I normally expected monthly had not arrived.

We could only clasp hands. Then he brought his lips to my cheek to kiss as a comfort.

The next day it was open, and we ran to the doctor. During an hour of the visit, he looked at the sample, felt my body, and gave a wide smile. He went to William and shook his hand.

“Congratulations! Reverend, your wife is expecting a baby! Father Ransome indeed!”

He held onto the hand in brief shock and then released it, laughing and smiling out of relief and celebration. He even gave me a hug plainly in front of the doctor. But finally, both our expectations and our prayers were met. I had to rush home, go to the desk, and write to every member of my family with all of that bound excitement…I am pregnant! I wrote it down over and over. I am pregnant! I am pregnant! I am pregnant!

The house was bought and prepared to expect that we would have children. It was the expectation. At least four months after I was married even strangers in town would ask if I was pregnant yet. There were multiple rooms and so far, upstairs, there was the bedroom for us, a study for my husband, a third little flight of stairs leading to an attic for storage, but one special room to be preserved as a nursery and bedroom for little ones.

For my beloved Bible Study, I could hardly wait for when it to come back. We would devote ourselves to all sorts of fascinating insights on what scripture said, enjoy each other’s cooking, and then indulge ourselves in whatever tidbits there were. Especially considering my position, I had to know it. Sometimes the more scandalous ones I had a curiosity for.

Yes, it was gossip, but that feels such a natural thing to do among the women of a small town. It was like the weekly chapters released in newspapers- updates on who married who, changes in fortune, births, deaths, leavings- I would be on the edge of my seat to hear and discover the latest updates. Sometimes…perhaps sometimes, I could help.

6. Build relationships with women in the church to support, encourage and model Godliness to them.

Perhaps being married to the town priest was a gift all along, I would reflect. I could use this to help others. So far, it had not been as terrifying as first copying the list made so. I could help them, and I did. Families in need of money or arms to hold their babies and children. A prayer and sweeping off bottles for a drunkard. Some unhappy wives went up to me in tears, thanking them for assisting them in delivering their babies, praying for them, or offering to bake them a pie.

The first one in January I put on my thickest scarf and a coat with large pockets. The snow crunched beneath my feet as I walked to Mrs. Lee’s house. They were gathered in her pink parlor- chairs around on top of the pink rug. Women crowded around, trying to move the bustles on the back of their dresses to make room for all of us. The women had their thick wools and linen dresses on, and the fireplace was roaring. In the corner, there was a pot of tea and a plate with some plain biscuits- much needed after all the rich food from December. What I loved most was getting to know each of these women who would come in and greet me.

I learned all their names by heart now. But a gaggle of them were surrounding one that evening. Fanny was smiling and flashing a ring on her left hand. I could hardly restrain myself from gasping.

“Why…you don’t mean…really! You’re engaged!” I yelped.

We all smiled and applauded at her. She even showed me the diamond ring for inspection.

“Is it the Austrian fellow? Mr…Mr. Kroeger, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yes! Vince! The best man in all the world!” she confirmed, nodding her dark head.

“The mechanic? Doesn’t he have a telegram…and he plays with all that electricity nonsense!” Mrs. Rogers commented.

“It’s not nonsense, it’s helpful!” a Mrs.Moore would interject.

Fanny stood between them, waving her arms to ask for peace.

“Oh, but that doesn’t matter now! I love him and he loves me, and I love him and we’re getting married- that’s all!” Fanny chided.

I felt grateful. She had introduced me to William in the first place and now she had her own man to love equally.

“Oh, you’ve been swooning for him forever, Fanny! I’m so happy for you!” I commented and gave her a little hug.

As we read passages and discussed them, even scribbling notes in our Bibles, the plates of biscuits were disappearing. Then Mrs. Lee looked over at me.

“Why are you so quiet today, Mrs. Ransome? You hardly had two words to speak, and we’re discussing Job! Of all the people in town, you should have the book memorized by now…”

“I have something…I was hesitant. I don’t wish to spoil Fanny’s fun…” I said, biting the inside of my lip. Secretly, I was glad someone noticed my silence and asked.

“No, you never could!” Fanny insisted, leaning closer to me even though she sat across me in the circle of chairs, Bible in lap.

Their eyes grew large. “What is it?”

From inside my Bible, I pulled out a small blue sock that I had sewed up. They erupted in applause and cheers and excitement.

“A baby! A Baby! Congratulations!”

“It’s my first…I’m thrilled, I’m frightened too. I never…I never felt sick all the time and yet craved to eat and sometimes I feel normal and yet sometimes I sense it inside me…” I confessed.

The mothers, young and old, gathered near me. At once they began talking about their own experiences. They told me what to expect. I could only hold my tongue, listen, and nod. We let out far later than normal and returned to our homes under the black sky and white snow.

With that excitement also comes fear when one is first pregnant. I would feel so ill that I would vomit in the mornings. I kept having to excuse myself to the chamber pots and outhouses. I had to often lie down and rest after two visits or one church service, staring up into the ceiling. But in those early days, I could carry about as normal as much as I could. When another woman needed help with the delivery of a baby, I would want to be present to know what to expect. I was more knowledgeable even as I flinched at each scream.

It was as the months passed that I became heavier and heavier. On the day of Fanny’s wedding, my large stomach seemed to touch the pew in front of me as I watched the ceremony. Then the child inside me would sometimes kick.

Every woman in town gave me recipes and stories and advice. We began preparing a room with a crib and were lucky to receive all sorts of gifts for the baby. All while I felt sick and the size of a whale all while dreading that day of the ninth month for the pain alone…. It was not uncommon for women to die in the childbed still. What if it was too complicated? What if amid expecting a new life, I Was counting down the days to my death? In our sewing circles, we began to sew our own mourning shrouds.

But once the day arrived. William was in the forest on a hunting trip with the other local men and water suddenly burst from me. I began screaming in fear. What was going on even? My body was splitting apart, and it felt so much different than watching. My sister held my hand and led me upstairs to the bed. My mother ran out. Then every woman in town arrived in a flurry along with the doctor. They were crowded in my room, the door kept opening back and forth. I felt the pain split apart my lower body and everything was spinning. I kept crying and clinging to my mother’s forearm as she urged me to breathe and push. Mrs. May kept dabbing my face with cold water as a comfort.

But at last, there was a cry and not from me. The pain was stopping. The doctor’s head poked into my field of vision as he brought forth a small bundle in his arms and placed it in mine.

“It’s a girl!” he announced.

My mother kissed my head and every woman in that room asked after me, cleaning the bloody sheets and sighing.

I saw her. My daughter. At once the pain was forgotten and instead was great relief and joy. The door swung open and this time I saw William. He stepped forward and the doctor moved the baby from my arms into his. He looked down at the child’s face and after looked at mine. His face was streamed with joyous tears.

“We’ll call her Joanna.” He told me.

The baby would cry into the night and up late I would usually be there, far more than William was, to nurse and rock the infant back to sleep. To change diapers, feed, burp, and clean after spit-ups and messes, and carry the weight of that small human life in my arms. I made sure to eat fewer sweets and walk and garden frequently to be back to my normal size again and hear William call me “beautiful” once more. My mother was in town and often I would write or show up at the door with burning questions about what I should do.

I could not tell you the number of times, as I sat there on the front row of church every week, that the baby would burst into such violent cries in the middle of the service.

9. Attend Sunday services regularly and sit visibly so your husband always knows he has at least one ally in the congregation.

But a baby wailing could rock the earth- I had to try and rock the baby to calmness outside many a service.

This process was repeated five times in my life within a decade. But as you may recall, my first was a girl called Joanna and I said that I have two sons.

The second pregnancy was milder. I discovered it half a year after Joanna arrived in our lives. I felt still exhausted throughout my duties of having to immediately repeat the process of pregnancy. Oh, but there still was excitement. As we lay in bed, William would put a hand over my stomach and tell me as we drifted off to sleep. The last thing I recall hearing before going asleep was this:

“…and if it’s a boy, we’ll call him Joseph…”

Another flurry of months and I felt the breaking of water beneath me again. Our second child was on the way.

But what scared me as I walked around, my lower body pulling and twisting itself, was that I Was bleeding. Bleeding far more profusely than normal. I managed, with great effort, to push the child out of me.

I still screamed and cried as he did what he could to make sure I delivered it. The women again surrounded me to help. Downstairs, I smelled pipe smoke, and I knew the other fathers were sampling the Ransome sherry as normal, yet I felt as if the world around me would explode in flames as I pushed and pushed. I saw women bringing out more bloody clothes than the first time.

But after it was announced that a head was seen. I heard no crying. The doctor looked at me through his glasses, holding a bloody bundle. He was frowning.

“Mrs. Ransome…your baby died while it was still in your stomach.”

I began to sob again. It was not the face William was expecting to see when he was sent upstairs.

It was a girl.

It was not long until I was pregnant again. It felt constant. As I said, William could not resist a night of passion with me, and I could not resist a night of passion with him so I would oblige him.

Again, exhaustion for almost an entire year throughout my duties. Again, great pain in the ninth month. Again, push, push, push, push Mrs. Ransome, push.

But I heard a cry.

This time it was another girl. Julianna Ransome. A sweet, pretty thing. The prettiest baby I ever saw. Even Joanna, now three, would gaze at her and smile. She would feed little Julianna her peas from her dinner plate and want to dress her up like one of her dolls.

Again, she would cry during Sunday services. And with another little girl by my side, if one cried, I had to walk both out by me.

“Our Father Who Art in Heaven” could not be heard over Julianna’s lungs.

It would ricochet off the stone walls and drown everyone in its piercing sound, overpowering any psalm. I had no choice but to leave the church, one arm under Julianna and the other walking out Joanna with everyone watching.

"Let us wait a moment while she gets out," William announced.

I made no reply about it after. He continued his sermon inside.

Julianna lived for a year.

Both girls fell ill. They lay in their bed and cradles, foreheads burning. I recall William putting a cloth on Joana one evening as I held Julianna kept wailing as I attempted to spoon-feed her medicine. At midnight, Joanna blinked and looked around. She began to wiggle around in her seat like normal without the heaviness in her movements from illness.

“Her fever, Stella, it’s broken! Joanna’s fever is broken!” he cheered.

Julianna cried. Then stopped. Her pale skin turned grey, and she closed her eyes. Her body was suddenly heavier. As I undid her clothes and felt where her tiny heart was, it had stopped beating.

14. Raise healthy, well-balanced children and be present for them.

I could not remember crying as much as feeling Julianna’s life slip out of her body as I held her in my arms. Losing my children was the second saddest moment of my life.

In the graveyard near the church, you will find two small crosses with two small angel statues. Those crosses I would bedeck with flowers on Saturdays, making sure they were fresh. On one, you will find the name “JOSEPHINE RANSOME” and on the other “JULIANNE RANSOME.”

The second month after Julianne’s funeral, I had a dream that kept me so shaken, it could not escape me even as I woke. It felt too visceral, too real. Most of all, it terrified me.

I dreamt I saw them. The two daughters I lost. Only they did not look like infants. They had grown to be little children. Both had long, light blonde hair like mine. Their skin was so pale it was translucent, glowing. They wore little white dresses full of ruffles on the skirts. I was so far away, and yet I could see them. They were alone in a crowd, wandering. Blood was falling from their mouths. They ran around, asking for help from strangers- any at all and each one kept refusing them. I kept trying to run to them but could never reach them.

The scene then shifted from the town to the church.

I was outside, watching the inside of the church through the stained-glass windows.

The bleeding girls wandered inside. William was preaching in his white robes with his arms outstretched on the pulpit. His eyes went from looking at the sky to the open door, looking away into the distance. The girls ran to him, tugging his robes and begging for help. Their bloody coughs spilled bits of red on him.

“Papa! Papa! We’re dying, papa! Papa, please! Papa! Help us!”

He ignored their cries.

I was pounding my fists on the windows, screaming at him. It wasn’t proper to scream, but I Was so frightened, desperate for him to carry those girls, his daughters, our daughters, to a doctor. Or maybe to hold them, be there for them in what could be their last moments. to help those sickly girls, that they were his daughters, that they needed him.

But instead, he walked right outside and wandered to the muddy marshes. A faraway figure- blurry in its exact shape- awaited him, beckoning him, and he could hear nothing else but its silent call pulling him away. With his long white sleeves, he seemed like a ghost. He was more drawn to the figure than the screams of the dying girls.

I ran into the church but by then, the two girls dropped lifelessly to the floor, blood spluttering from their mouths as I heard their voices. I ran over, cradling and embracing the two girls. They looked at me with their large blue eyes, just like their fathers. They spoke. But it was no longer a plea for themselves.

“Save yourself Mama…. save yourself…”

I woke up in a heartbeat. My eyes blinked, adjusting to our room in the dark. It was so quick it woke him up next to me. I began crying and William hugged and comforted me. I did not have the heart to tell him what I dreamt of.

I wrote it down in my little journal and kept it away from him. I didn’t dare speak of the dream, but he knew it upset me. Perhaps he knew it was a dream of the girls, at least. He knew I grieved for them so much. He did too.

It was so much so, that the times we coupled for the next year he made sure I would not get pregnant. There were women to help move in, spare coins to be given to beggars, as well as making sure Easter and then Christmas would go well. I had Joanna. She needed to be fed and dressed and cleaned and calmed after a tantrum. She was starting to walk and talk more. Now I could hold her hand as she waddled her way to church on Sunday for her father.

My own siblings were growing up as well. Dante and Elliott had already married and moved to London for better jobs, tiring of country life. Brian took up at the mill- saving money to move to Bath, he hoped, and have his own farm.

By then, Edith was staying to look after Mama and Papa but had her own job at a local shop. One day, the shop owner’s nephew, a handsome gentleman named Edgar Woodard, finally arrived and took a shine to her. He stayed longer in town and even after he went back home to another city, he kept finding ways to visit Aldwinter. And not for the beach.

Before we knew it, she had her romance at last and was engaged to be married to him once he had saved enough money for a home. Millwork was getting too much for my father as his bones got weaker and lost more of his greying hair. He made plans to retire. But it was a delight to have them around, especially to look after my little Joanna as I attended to members of the town weekly.

7. Reach out to those outside and facilitate relationships with all- women or men in the congregation.

One spring day I had numerous errands to attend to and my parents were at the home to care for the little girl. I had recently delivered some baked bread for one new woman. I tried to be polite and address her by her last name, but she kept shaking her head and insisted “Call me Martha” before taking the bread pan. She had too much to unpack to have me stay longer and talk. But she offered her gratitude for the welcome.

After I called on Mrs. Moore. She was leaning down to trim the bushes outside of her house when she turned and saw me walking down the road.

“Ah! Lady Ransome herself! A delight! Would you like to come in?” she offered, standing up.

I curtsied, smiled, and said yes. We both went inside her kitchen. Her husband was at work and her children at school and the lack of sound was nearly unsettling.

“How is the children’s Sunday School? I needed to make sure you had it ready…” I asked as she took off her green stained apron.

She sighed, “Teaching it’s new to me- and there are so many! They’re practically jumping off the walls!”

“Don’t worry…I’m here to help you…Children need pictures or things to interact with when you teach them! I’ll show you what I’ve noticed…”

As we went over ideas of what the class on David and Goliath could be taught, my stomach soured. But I hadn’t touched any of her cake. It grew gradually worse and worse. Eventually, I could not stand it.

“I…I, oh, I’m so sorry…” I excused myself. “I think I might need to leave early…”

I got up and clutched at my stomach.

“Mrs. Ransome?” she asked.

“I…I don’t mean to be rude; I only feel…I feel…”

There was a sudden rise of bile in my throat. Up, up, up, and it wanted to hurl out. I stepped away, holding it in. It wanted out, out, but I would not humiliate myself as a guest! I found a chair and gripped it, knuckles white from holding back the sick.

“Mrs. Ransome! Oh!”

She got a dirty bowl and placed it under me. I vomited out into it.

“Oh! Poor lamb! You poor thing!” she commented, gently patting my back.

She let me lay down on her couch. The doctor was fetched.

Please…please God, please no… I prayed silently.

I was careful in William's bed, but apparently not careful enough. The doctor arrived and examined me to confirm my worst fear.

“Congratulations are in order, Mrs. Ransome, you are expecting….should I fetch your husband?”

“Yes, you should…” I said flatly.

William immediately ran over but that was him when he worried, breaking out into a run-, almost knocking over vases in his distress. He held my hands and cupped my worried face.

“It’ll be alright…we’re going to have another sweet baby, my dear…” he tried to assure me.

Yes…another little one. A sweet round face with bright eyes, tiny clothes, and babbling like wind chimes. I told myself this was good news. But I silently resented any congrats.

But I thought of them…of my two dead daughters. How this one would die or bleed out or worse or live to be struck dead in my arms again.

I was far more nervous. I paced at night, struggling to sleep. I sewed more frequently to give myself something to do. In the privacy of our bedroom, I would cling to William and cry and cry and grieve Julianna and Josephine, and now the doomed child inside me.

I even stopped by the graves daily.

I would place my hand on Josephine’s and then Julianna's. I wiped away more coming tears. Then I looked up at the sky. I closed my eyes and placed my palms together.

2. You are to maintain daily prayer with God.

“God…please…please keep me calm. Find a way to soothe me. I ask you- give me peace! Give me the peace that passes all understanding! Speak to me and comfort me, I need it! And I need you, Oh God! If you are able, let me see something! Let me see something to know You are there for me and always will be, no matter what in my life! Show me a sign, please, if you can now!” I prayed.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed something on the grass. Something that during my tortured thoughts I never saw before.

In front of the gravestones were two of the prettiest blue wildflowers I had ever seen. Two! Each one is alike. Like the two girls had been. Like in their fates. Like in the sounds of their names. Like in their innocence and beauty. Like in how I carried and brought them forth despite the pain in my body. And alike in how I still loved them.

I began walking around the other graves. The blue wildflowers were starting to grow around there. Usually, if you go out to the forest, you must search like mad to find any semblance of blue at all. Yet here it was…everywhere.

In this graveyard and all this death…there was life. From dead bodies, these things of beauty grew, smiled, gave a scent, welcomed bees and bugs, and carried on. There was a large beneath one grave with an angel statue. I leaned down and plucked one flower-holding its fragile, green stem with the thumbs and forefingers of both of my hands.

If something fragile like that could survive and thrive amongst death, so would this child. And me.

There was my peace. There was my sign.

I looked up to the sky and whispered a silent thank you to God. I went home and pressed the flower.

Since that day, I kept finding blue everywhere. And it gave me a semblance of peace when I was frightened about the upcoming baby. Any blue flower I found I would now pluck and press. During those frightening nights, I would light a candle, open the book to see the blue flowers I pressed, remember the promise, and return to sleep deeply.

I asked William if we could walk by the beach after church and take Jo with us for one week. Looking down, there on the sands beneath me- I would find blue shells! I showed Joanna how to search and pick one up. She did so and would smile proudly at her prize.

That summer went we would go into the woods with the women’s bible study to pick blackberries, I would look for pebbles among the rocks on the ground. Lo and behold, there were blue ones. I would put it in my basket along with the berries and head home, where I would find places to keep them.

If I kept seeing the color in my house, then I would remind myself of that day, of that promise, that sign. And I would have peace of mind about the baby and myself. I went to the shop where Edith was working and indulge in buying a small blue-looking glass. If there was any blue item, I would save up my allowance to buy it. And of course, I would pluck and press and pluck and press any blue wildflower I found. My flower garden used to be filled with lilies and now was filled with asters. It was a pleasant nine months to spend. I would never stop collecting my beloved blue things.

Sure enough, the day arrived, and my water broke. It was a little earlier than we thought, but the women from church fetched the doctor and hurried me to my home. One ran off to the church offices to find William and alert him. My mother and sister held both of my hands.

It was clear, straightforward labor without any complications and not if the others had been either. And I had a healthy boy.

William beamed again as he held the bundle. “His name is John Ransome,” he announced as the crowd burst into applause. Even Joanna was already gentle, charmed by this little, breathing baby doll that was her brother.

John was a delight. There was never a healthier, heartier baby. The women would coo over him when I brought him to church. I loved to put him in small outfits. The day Edith was married, she allowed Joanna to serve as a flower girl. William performed the ceremony. I was content to sit in the pews with little John in his finest clothes. He didn’t cry and only slept or looked around the wide building with his large eyes during the ceremony, charming any guest who met him.

I kept blue around John’s little crib. I found little blue wildflowers to put on top and it seemed Joanna followed my measure. She would pluck flowers from the ground and put them around his. This time, I was even more careful. Daily I would pray. My allowance from William’s salary would pay for doctor’s visits for both my children. So, help me, I would not lose them again.

John got big enough to walk and stand. He would lean closer to me when afraid. His sister at family gatherings would beam and play with her cousins. Despite his babyhood, John would cling to my skirts with tiny red fists and begin to cry if someone spoke too loudly. But he liked my singing and my lullabies as I placed him over my shoulder.

John admired his sister. Whatever she would do- and she would do a lot! The girl was always headed off somewhere to climb on something! - he would follow through and run off to play. Copying her every move like a scholar. One neighbor had a little girl called Naomi who was Joanna’s age. So many evenings her parents invited us over just for the children. The three little ones would practically race each other over the house. The two girls laughed on their spindly legs as John tried to keep up with his shorter, chubbier stubs for legs.

Long after dessert was finished and the night grew dark, our two children would slump themselves onto the chairs. They were red-faced and teary at things. They pouted.

“Looks like Jojo’s tired!” Will would say.

“Why, so is Johnny!” I replied.

We scooped them up in our arms. Will had Jo and I had John. It had gotten late, and they were too tired from playing- it was far past any bedtime. We walked off into that night as the crickets chirruped with the two children in our arms asleep, their legs dangling and only gently hitting our backsides.

Always late at night when both children were deeply asleep, despite my exhaustion, I gave into my desire for my husband.

I became pregnant again, but this time I was not afraid.

I had my blue prepared. I improved and reorganized my collection as my stomach churned and grew. I even became determined to begin to wear more blue clothes. Surround the child while it was in there. I found at least one way to keep it in a ring or earring or in a scarf at the very least.

It seemed to work. Again, it was another smooth labor and delivery. Another healthy little boy I named James.

My parents were delighted at the trio of grandchildren to play with. By then, Brian had his farm in the bath at last. Edith and her husband were living in an apartment in London. I was the only Harris sibling in town, and with access to little ones for them to play with (and to look after on my errands!)

In the evenings my father would come home and read and would delight them with his books full of mythologies. Not that William minded at all. My husband never feared Pagan stories, as other ministers might.

I would lay little James in my lap, bouncing him, perhaps giving him bites of the chocolate cake from my small plate. John and Joanna would crawl closer to their grandfather on the floor. My mother would sew, and William would light a pipe. My father sat on the largest chair with the book in his arms and start to read with his own commentary:

“Once upon a time there was a god of thunder named Zeus and his wife, the marriage goddess, Hera. They were king and queen of the gods, just as your papa and mama are the king and queen of your home! That should make you two the prince and princess!”

He pointed to the children sitting on the rug and they giggled in return.

I genuinely felt like we were royalty at that moment. Maybe of Aldwinter itself, dare I say. At such moments, I could never be happier- to have my husband and children around me in a warm house, fed and content as rain or snow pattered outside. My dear parents reading to them. Everyone was healthy. Everyone was safe and comfortable. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive and that all should experience such bliss that a loving home and family could provide.

There was one evening as it snowed outside that my parents brought over pictures of our family to share with me as well as another dinner, read, and chat. They were astounded at Joanna.

“She’s your spitting image!” my mother said.

My father closed his mythology book, pausing in the recording of Jason of the Argonauts and his sorceress lover Medea.

“I agree, she looks exactly like you, Stella!” he confirmed.

From the box of photographs, my father pulled out an old photograph of me when I was at the tender age of eight. Sure enough, she matched the picture. Jo had pale skin, as I do. She was small in structure for a little girl, as was I. And having Harris blood in her veins, she had very light-colored blonde hair-exactly like mine. We would laugh and coo and then give the little children kisses and spoil them with chocolate.

Not that everything was perfect. There was one element where I was struggling- Sunday mornings. William would always get up early and head over to practice and perfect his sermon as well as oversee every bit of the church itself.

I was left with the children. To make sure all three were dressed and ready for Sunday morning on time. Waking up, I placed my hair into a clean bun and donned a skirt. As time was moving on, the bustle was being thrown off in favor of simpler skirts. Then I would dress the two boys. John would mumble and complain about how his shirt felt scratchy.

“It will keep you warm…” I insisted.

“Can’t something else keep me warm!”

“It’s clean! There’s nothing else clean! You must wait for your shirts to be cleaned!” I reasoned.

He huffed and consented, but still frowned.

I then ran to James. His nicest shoes were missing I found out. He had developed a fondness for mud and dirt. As I rushed outside, there were the shoes in a mud puddle left of the vegetable garden. I picked them up, hurriedly cleaned them, and rushed to put them on his little feet.

Then I would hold his hand and walk him down the stairs for breakfast. John was already there pouting over an empty bowl.

“Please give me porridge, not toast!’ John would insist.

I then began to bring out the porridge and heat it up when James shakes his head and babbled “Toast! Toast!”

I heard the grandfather clock chime the hour. Sunday Schools were ending and out of the question for the children.

I would then begin bread for toast when I looked and realized there were two heads on the table when there should be three.

“Where’s your sister??” I asked.

They pointed out the front door.

Outside, sure enough, there was Jo in her wild, girlish glory. There was a tree right outside of our house and she loved to climb it. She was getting tall and her legs were long already! When they were little, all was so slow and now they were growing, and time was moving quicker! She had climbed all the way to the top of that tall oak tree.

I picked up my skirt and called up to them.

“Jojo, darling! We must go to church!”

“I don’t want to!” she insisted from high up.

“Why? Your father worked so hard on his sermon; you must be there!” I said, cupping my mouth so my voice could reach her.

“He gives one every week! And I Don’t feel like it!” she replied.

“But you’ll look so pretty in your new dress! And your grandmother gave it to you and it’s so-”

“I hate it! I hate that dress! Can’t I wear pants today, mama, please!? Jimmy wears pants and Johnny does, why can’t I?” she yelled from above.

“You don’t have any pants!” I argued.

If I had to try and climb it, I would. She was up on the tallest branch, her legs swinging defiantly in her shift and stockings. I tried to pull myself up one branch but there was only so much I could do. I tried lifting my leg, but I didn’t have the same strength and flexibility she did to get that high up.

“What would make going to church…. pleasant, for you, Jo?” I reasoned from below.

“I want pants! If I can’t wear pants, I won’t go!”

I knew the second she walked in wearing pants, there would be gasps and eyes full of blame directed at me. How could none other than the daughter of a vicar be so crude? Didn’t her mother teach her better?

My mind was racing. The boys were complaining about wanting breakfasts and what breakfasts they wanted. And in the distance, I heard the church bells begin ringing. The services were beginning already!

I ran inside and served the toast and porridge. As quick as I could, I went upstairs to Johnny’s drawer and pulled out a fresh pair of Johnny’s bigger pants and then a skirt. I returned outside.

“Here! You can wear pants- just wear a skirt over them, and please! We’re already late!”

Joanna obliged, she slid down and was happy to wear pants, even if in secret.

I made sure those loose strands in my bun were tucked away and any mud or stain or dirt not on my apron was wiped away the best I could. My stomach rumbled for lack of breakfast for myself. The three of us walked over, coming in right during William reading the scriptures:

“And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.”

Some of the elderly men glared at me. But many women, some with babbling children of their own sitting on their laps, nodded in understanding. I scuttled with the three to the front row.

“And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off and cast it from thee: for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish and not that thy whole body be cast unto hell.”

Although we scuttled in, I would struggle to keep them still. John would wiggle his feet and ask for paper and pens to draw with. Joanna would read the Bible and then get curious about other passages and read them to entertain herself if she lost interest. James would look up at his father the whole time, swinging his legs.

Finally, my father retired. The house was too big, so they wanted to move. They were going to go to the next town in a smaller house and rent out the place to another young family. We said our goodbyes, but they promised to visit to see their grandchildren. And by then, my siblings were finding their spouses and having children of their own. They needed to save money for travel. They moved out to Bath with their other son and his new wife.

Now I had not the family I grew up with, but a family of my own to look after.

It also meant during every church meeting, Bible study, sewing meeting, and being at William’s side for each of his meetings, I had to be there and if my parents were occupied, the girls were by our side.

There was one day we were meeting in the sanctuary of the church detailing everything. Joanna was getting a collection of books to occupy herself. James and Johnny were all over the church pretending to be frogs and leapfrogging over each other while crying “ribbit! Ribbit!”

But little James was very bright. Of us three, James looked at the spitting image of William. Sometimes, when I placed him on my lap to hug him as he grew tired, he looked up at me with blue eyes. It would startle me inside. The very shade and size of my husband. His hair grew reddish blonde and curly. His cheekbones, his smile, and his mouth! All the same.

It did not stop at his looks. He also showed a vast interest in faith at a very young age. He always asked questions “what are angels, mama? What are demons? What’s hell?” Such questions I had to send for him to his father’s office for papa to explain.

But he was not the only one with questions. Joanna was a mad reader. She would sneak into her father’s study and read book after book after book. And not just the ones only for children.

She heard from the schoolteacher that William Shakespeare was the greatest writer of all time. She became determined to judge this for herself. The day after her eleventh birthday, she managed to find a copy of "Romeo and Juliet." Despite the more archaic language, she seemed to read it fine. Shakespeare was like the King James Bible that she was so familiar with.

But as we were at dinner and passing potatoes, she asked, “Papa, Mama, what happens on the wedding night?”

I nearly dropped the plate I was holding.

“What? What do you mean? “I asked.

William and I shared a look of panic.

“Juliet’s talking about her wedding night with Romeo in the play and she’s very excited- why?” She even boldly pulled out the tiny, thin book and flipped the pages. She pointed at the lines.

“What’s she talking about? She says they’re going to do an “amorous rite”- right here! What’s an amorous rite? She’s awfully excited about it- is it a game?”

And the two young boys looked up from their plates.

“I want to play the game too! How do you play it?” John asked.

William’s jaw dropped and he was barely able to voice an “uh” when I got out of my chair and walked over to Joanna, placing my hands on her shoulders.

“On Saturday, Jojo, I’ll take you to the beach. And…and I’ll tell you what it is. We’ll walk, we’ll pack a picnic, and I’ll tell you what an…amorous rite is. Boys, if you want to know too, you can ask your father.”

Saturday was overcast, but the sun would peek out. Neither too hot nor too cold, just right. But it was still bright in the day, ever with that blue sky. As promised, we walked some by the beach, Joanna was sweet enough to remember my enjoyment of blue. Here on the beach, we could see blue in its ultimate, eternal power. For when it was clear, the sky would be blue and then match the blue ocean to carry on for eternity. Joanna would look for blue shells and stones to fetch for me.

Then I laid out the blanket and got out the sandwiches from inside for us. She sat down nearby, picking at the crusts until working her way to the inside contents.

“Alright…Joanna, this is what an amorous rite is, this is what happens on the wedding night…” I began.

I never asked such questions. Only in small fragments from whispers from other girls was what I heard. Then my education expanded once I began my unmentionable. My mother taught me to not be alone with a man who wasn’t a gentleman if at all. There were animals around us and my brothers would make crude laughter at small phrases. Then I was engaged. And the horror of the act was a warning to me from every woman I met, including my mother. I was told every detail of what to dread. Women had to endure the unpleasantness, awkwardness, and even pain. The marriage bed was only pleasurable for the husband so you might as well enjoy the children that came from it.

So, help me, Joanna would not go through what I did.

I told her what happens and with as many details as I could. Ways it could happen and be done between a man and woman. I gave enough details that she would know what to expect when it was her time. Her jaw dropped.

“But…isn’t it sin?” she asked.

“Sometimes it is. Only if you’re not married or with someone you’re not married to, or you force it on someone else. And sometimes it isn’t. It can be very good, God made it! There’s a whole book in the Bible about it, even!” I spoke.

Over us, the seagulls squawked. A wind was sweeping her blonde hair in its direction. The ocean kept roaring in its alto lullaby.

“Really?” she cried.

“Yes!”

“Do only married couples, do it?” she asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“No, plenty of unmarried couples do it,” I answered.

I even told her it was how women became pregnant. That soon her unmentionable would arrive and if it stopped coming, it meant you were with child. But if you were careful, you could avoid it.

“Is…is that why sometimes there are pregnant women with no husbands who visit us?”

“Yes.”

“Why do the amorous rite at all! It sounds disgusting! It sounds like it hurts…”

I smiled at her grimacing, trying not to laugh. In her fascination, her sandwich had been untouched.

“It might a little at first. But not for everyone. And I will tell you…it isn’t as bad as you think.”

I moved closer to her and clasped her hand. She looked softly at me.

“When you love someone, when you fall in love, it can be beautiful. It can be a beautiful, beautiful thing. Your grandmother made me frightened when I was going to marry your father. She told me it would not be anything pleasant but…but Jo…”

I reached over and took her hand.

“It is! It is pleasant! It can be the most wonderful thing you will ever experience- if you love him, and he is your husband, and you tell him yes- you will have something wonderful and beautiful. You’ll feel safe and close to each other. It will be the most incredible feeling. I can’t even describe how wrong my mother and the women were. I knew that night that your father truly loved and cared for me. It wasn’t unpleasant at all! It was wonderful! And not just on the wedding night, but any night or time you say yes you may experience it again!”

She smiled at my words. I tucked away strands of her hair to see her face, but then the smile dropped.

“But am I bad if I’m not married and I do it anyway?” she questioned.

“It’s considered a sin. Some might say you are a bad woman. You could land in serious trouble but…your father and I love you and we’ll be here to help you. We’ll always love you no matter what you do. Just be careful around a man you don’t feel good about, Joanna.”

She shivered.

“I’ll scream and punch his nose, mama, don’t worry!” she assured. I had to let out a small laugh at that.

She picked up her sandwich and finished it meditatively. I wiped the crumbs off her dress.

“But…That’s what the wedding night is about. That is the amorous rite couples and anyone in love does. Do you understand?” I finished.

“Yes…yes, I do…” she said, nodding.

“If you have any more questions, you can ask me. And if I'm not around and you feel alright about it, you can ask your father.”

“I shall, mama.”

A new puppy arrived soon after at the house. The children delighted in it. They trained it to sit, snuck bits of food from dinner to feed it, ran it around, and played with it. The dog sometimes would kill squirrels and we were forced to bury the little creatures. But it was in an animal’s nature to destroy, we told them.

Johnny was especially close to the canine. He scratched his ears on the rug and would talk to it.

“You might kill squirrels, but you’re not a bad dog, are you?” John would ask.

The dog smiled and panted, ears going down. I went forward to them and smiled, patting its head.

“Alright…we have to make sure he’s fed…and let’s make sure the leash on his post is tight…we don’t want him running away or getting hurt…” I offered.

It was my responsibility to make sure the dog was leashed and to help make sure he was controlled.

“Or killing something else!” John fretted.

The puppy grew with the children. Joanna turned thirteen and began her unmentionable at last. She lost interest in her dolls and would give them to others. She read more books. She would disappear with her friends for hours or sometimes for a whole day only to show up at dinnertime. Most of all, she and John had bikes. It was a constant sight to see Joanna pedaling around town, blowing out whistles, giggling, and having such fun with any person who wandered outside. John had one too and would follow her sometimes, but other times go to his “alone spots” to think or draw or collect wildflowers or help chase the dog to play with him. Only James would stick close to home.

We were all happy and content. All together.

I was back in my garden one day. Once I patted the ground and watered it, I noticed someone was running toward me.

It was a Mrs. Taylor. She was dressed in cream and her curly blonde hair was up in a bun with her cream hat. She was short and medium-sized but moved with great speed. I wiped off the dirt on my apron and walked closer to her. It was a delight to hear gossip right outside my door. I loved hearing from others what was going on, easy and fast.

“Mrs. Ransome! Mrs. Ransome! Haven’t you heard? Oh, how awful!” she huffed once she approached me.

A tightness gripped my throat.

“What is it?”

“A dead body was found!”

“What!”

Crowds would gather around to gape at the corpse like a fixture at a museum. Details were spread by word. I don’t recall seeing the body, but the details of its wounds made my skin crawl. Sure enough, there was a dead body. Then another. And another.

At the lady's Bible study, we finished our reading to discuss the anxiety of our systems. We were nervous. Even Fanny took out her handkerchief and was wringing it in fear.

“Please…not my little girl…please not my little girl…” she whispered.

In her brown eyes, you could see tears. Mrs. Lee went to her and patted her back in comfort, handing her fresh handkerchiefs.

Mrs. Bennet then turned to me “Do you know what I hear…there are reporters already!”

“Reporters? For our newspaper?” I asked.

“No, Big reporters! Big Newspapers! From London! They’re in Aldwinter and writing about the dead bodies found-About us!”

We were in awe.

“And do you know what they say it is…” One Mrs. Brown asked. She was a mousy Burnette with a large nose and spectacles.

The others leaned into her.

“What?” Mrs. Taylor asked.

Mrs. Brown gulped “They’re being killed by a giant, magical snake.”

A pause. “a snake?” and “magical?” was heard across the crowd of women. More than one crossed herself.

“A giant snake. A magical snake. A Leviathan…we have a Leviathan creature here in our village!” Mrs. Brown reeled.

We murmured and gasped in wonder as well as fear.

Mrs. Smith pouted her large, pink lips and shook her red head, “Well, I don’t believe in such things! How could there be a Leviathan? They aren’t real!”

“But there is something killing the people…and the bodies…” Fanny noted.

They all didn’t want to believe it, but there was enough evidence to suggest that indeed something different than what slid into our gardens.

The next night, there was a scream from the children’s room. William and I dashed out, looking frantically. Joanna and James seemed startled and silent in their tiny beds. It was Johnny…Johnny was crying and screaming, lashing back and forth in his sleep.

I ran forward, repeating his name and shaking him until he awoke. Tears were streaming down his face still.

“The serpents coming for me, Mama! The serpents coming for me!” he mourned into my nightdress, tears staining my shoulder.

“John, you’re here with your family…” I spoke.

Even William patted his back and his arm.

“It’s a dream, my boy, you’re safe here.” He spoke.

“But…there really is…really is a serpent! And it’s going to kill me!” John fretted.

“How could a serpent open the door? The doors locked…how could it get through? It doesn’t have hands since Eden. If it’s so large, it can’t sneak under…” William tried to reason him.

I went downstairs, fixed him chamomile tea, and returned it to him. I continued to offer my small embraces if he got teary again. He sipped at the steaming mug until it was empty.

“There…are you better Johnny?” I asked.

“Yes, better.”

“Do you need anything else?”

“No, mama.”

The boy was tormented by such nightmares for a long time. Sometimes I had to hold him and rock him to sleep just like when he was a baby and sing him the same lullabies. Weeks passed and still, everyone was on edge and jumping at shadows.

What broke me about it was not another corpse. A girl went missing- Naomi, the good friend of Joanna’s. The tears her mother cried would move even stone. It started to settle into me as well. That could have been me crying and in Naomi’s place one of my own children.

Once the children went into bed, my husband and I sat in the parlor in our clothes. The clock chimed midnight and finally, he broke the worrying silence on both our minds.

“Stella…I’m worried.”

“As am I, Will…”

“If this is a threat to our parish, and most of all our children, I won’t live with it, I won’t…Stella, I’m going to find the serpent…”

“Find it?”

“And consecrate it…”

“You could hunt it and shoot it…why consecrate it?” I asked.

“If it’s giant and powerful, what would a bullet do? What if it grows another head in its place? This is the better way. It could live and do what it does but be unharmed or harm others. Be a blessing even, could you imagine, Stella? So, help me, it won’t do anything more to us…or them…” he said looking upstairs to their rooms.

I took his hand “I…I will applaud you, it’s brave of you to do so…it’s only one of the reasons I love you.” I said.

“I love you too, dear…”

We kissed, sighing contentedly. He would begin his project privately, off to find it no matter what. He would vanish for an hour to search and then come home to help look after the children.

I knelt in front of my bed one night and folded my hands together to pray.

“Dear Lord, I ask you, should there be a serpent, at least, keep my children safe, keep them safe, oh Lord, keep my little ones safe from it. Protect Joanna, Protect John, Protect James. May William find the serpent if there be one. Amen.”

The next day a widower from London moved into town with her son.

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