Knitted Hearts by Amber Kelly
Foster
I’ve kept my promise to Kathy. I haven’t given up, and I’ll never give up.
The days following her death, I stayed close to Sonia. I held her while she mourned. I stood by her at the funeral and the graveside. Then, I gave her time to process. It wasn’t the time to talk about us. It was a time for her to grieve and heal. Although she’ll never stop feeling this loss, she has to find a way to move on and continue to live. I can’t do that for her. All I can do is be here.
Wendy has kept her word and not used her pregnancy against me. She’s actually been pleasant and easy going. We’re both looking forward to the birth of our child. It’s a glimmer of light in the darkness that has been hovering over us all.
I’ve spent a lot of time with Don, helping him sort through Kathy’s things, make donations, and even clear out the shops. Sonia didn’t want to pick over her mother’s belongings, which I could understand.
Don sends her the things he thinks she should have or save for her children. Jewelry, a few hand-knitted blankets, an antique hope chest.
Kathy left the stores and apartment to Sonia as well. The properties held clean and clear titles, and she wanted her daughter to have them as an inheritance.
I’ve given Sonia all the time and space I can until I am done giving it to her.
Then, I pick her up and take her to the orchard. To our tree. And I tell her that she can push me away all she wants, but I’m not going anywhere.
“I know you’re scared and you feel like you’ve lost your anchor and you’re adrift, but you’re not. I know exactly where you are, and if you let me, I will always be your anchor,” I tell her.
She sniffles. “That sounds like something Momma would say.”
“I might have stolen it from her,” I admit.
She presses her head to my chest. “I’m sorry I ran. I was just in such a bad headspace. I was going to call you the night I found Momma,” she says.
“You were?”
She nods. “I love you, Foster. I love you, and I’ll love anything and anyone that’s a part of you. I’ll be the best damn stepmom, and I’ll be there for your child, just like Don has been there for me,” she says through her tears.
Then, her eyes widen.
“I mean, not that you want me to be your child’s stepmother. I can be Dad’s cool-ass girlfriend or something,” she stumbles over her words.
Instead of correcting her, I kiss her. I kiss her with everything in me.
When I release her mouth, I look down at her beautiful face.
“I think you’re going to be the best stepmomma a little girl could ask for,” I tell her.
She smiles. “It’s a girl?”
“Yep.”
“Wow, a baby girl,” she whispers.
It takes another minute for the rest of what I said to sink in.
“Wait, you did say stepmomma, right?” she asks.
“I did,” I clarify.
“So …”
I kiss her forehead. “So, when you’re ready, we’ll talk about that more.”
“Okay.”
And that is how we become engaged. On the side of the mountain amid the apple trees.
It is simple. It is perfect, just like her.