Chapter 18

Chapter 18

About three months after our wedding, the white days lingered. They didn’t end even when the dates in the calendar marked for menstruation passed, one, then another, then a week. I marked off each square with a tingle of hope that this clean night, this morning kiss, even this comfort of peering over a paper shoulder to shoulder with my husband, would not be the last. Perhaps, I twiddled his thick fingers and felt the tiny abrasions of chewed cuticles, perhaps it’ll be like this for another nine months. "A tiny babele," he said. I called my mother from the office phone. “Oh, Freidy!” She could hardly restrain a weepiness. “Go to the pharmacy in the Shopping Centre—to the very back. Get the EPT pregnancy test from under the counter; it’s the reliable brand. Call me later, okay?”
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