Morning Sickness Read online

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  Two days before Thanksgiving, Denise was sitting in her silver Ford with a disposable camera. She kept the engine running for several minutes, but now simply endured the cold as she waited to take the perfect pictures. She had already taken a few shots of the building. It was constructed of solid brick and built like a castle. Mother would be more interested in images of Andy, but the ROTC backdrop made him look all the more like a prince.

  At 8:50 a.m., Denise heard Andy's car arrive before she saw it. The dark green Volvo was darling but very old and backfired as it pulled into the parking lot. She held up the camera, watching him admirably through the lens as he jumped out of the car and struggled to adjust his backpack. Still ten minutes early, but she knew he liked to be fifteen.

  Simply adorable, she thought, eagerly snapping photos of him running the length of the parking lot. My handsome soldier.

  In a flash, he was out of the cold and inside the building. Denise wished he had stood still a little longer, but one or two good shots would be enough. He may be the father of her baby, but she wasn’t going to obstruct the training of a future war hero. Besides, the camera read that she had already captured twenty pictures and it was unlikely that it could hold much more.

  Denise started the car, turned up the heater as high as it would go, and began driving home for the holiday.

  Home for Denise was Millstone, an hour drive south through back roads and speed traps. Her mother, Juanita Perkins, lived alone and worked as a seamstress for Meriwether’s Wedding Dresses. The store was known all around town for being the best place to purchase wedding attire and was located on one of the nation's few still-thriving Main Streets.

  Denise loved the dresses her mother would hem and sew. Many of the clients were already good friends with Juanita, ensuring Denise the role of Flower Girl in countless wedding ceremonies. By the time she was eight she had memorized the marriage vows for both bride and groom and learned to play “Here Comes the Bride” on piano. She used this talent time and time again during the beauty pageants that Juanita entered her in. Denise never won, but of course everyone knew those contests were rigged.

  She had no father in Millstone, had no father at all as far as she knew. Denise’s mother kept many secrets and that was one of them. There was no real problem with not knowing her father, though. As an exact replica of her mother in every shape, size and manner, it seemed quite possible to exist without one.

  At last, Denise passed the familiar sign reading Welcome to Millstone! Population 6,000 and continued on to the Walgreens to develop her pictures. She put the film in the one-hour develop and browsed the baby section while she waited. She picked out three pink pajamas and a bib etched with Cinderella. Satisfied with the photographs, she checked out and made her way home.

  There was the recognizable crunch of pine needles and small twigs as she pulled into the driveway. The sound was reassuring and brought back a wave of warm memories. Going home was always a pleasure. She loved Millstone; loved the trees, the roads, the people, the school. Unfortunately, the town did not love her.

  When Denise was a senior in high school, her boyfriend had been murdered. Everyone suspected that she had been responsible. They said she was crazy, accused her of killing him because he wouldn’t marry her. Denise cooperated with all the authorities and spoke sincerely: how could you kill someone who you loved so dearly? Eventually the jury agreed and she was proven innocent. Were her reputation not marred by the trial, she would probably still live here.

  Denise got out of the car and took a moment to admire the house. Not too big, not too small, just right. A solid square of thick wood that looked like a fairytale cabin nestled in the forest. The cedars and pines exhaled green oxygen into the air and Denise inhaled it with satisfaction.

  She climbed the wooden stairs to the doorstep and rang the bell, just as the police officers had done only two years before, and smiled, knowing her mother would be thrilled by the good news.