Chapter 67

...Dickinson POV…

I pushed open another door, hoping that this time I would find what I was looking for. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I had made a mistake. "Oh no," I said to myself. "This is the store."

The room was filled with shelves and racks of merchandise, from clothing to household goods. The air was heavy with the scent of new fabrics and cleaning products.

I turned and went out through the door, nearly running into Emile's mother, who was staring at me incredulously. I beamed a quick smile and scurried away down the hallway. I could hear her muttering to herself as I disappeared from view.

I had been so sure that this was the right room. But as I looked around, I realized that I had made another mistake. This was not Emile's room at all.

Feeling a little frustrated and embarrassed, I pushed open the door and stepped inside, hoping that this time I had finally found the right place.

When I entered the room, I heaved a sigh of relief. This was definitely Emile's room. It was a cozy space, with pale blue walls and white furniture. The bed was neatly made, and a few books were scattered on the nightstand.

I threw the heels I had been carrying on my hands towards a corner and collapsed onto the bed, feeling exhausted and a little bit sleepy. I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring the peace and quiet of the room.

But then, as I lay there, I started to feel a little restless. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was doing something wrong, that I didn't belong here.

I sat up and looked around the room, trying to make sense of my jumbled thoughts. Maybe it was just the stress of the day catching up with me. Maybe I was just feeling a little overwhelmed by the prospect of becoming a mother.

As I sat there, lost in my own thoughts, I heard a knock on the door. I quickly got up and opened it, revealing Emile's mother standing on the other side.

"Is everything okay, dear?" she asked, looking concerned.

I nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry I'm just a little scatterbrained". I said sitting up.

"Stress I see", She nodded.

"Yes…", I said as I watched her eyes skin all over me.

Emile's mother smiled kindly. "Don't worry about it. We all have our moments. Is there anything I can do to help?"

I shook my head, feeling grateful for her understanding. "No, thank you. I think I just need to rest for a little while."

"You are not coming down for dinner?" She had wanted to start moving but stopped abruptly, her eyebrows slanting downwards.

"Oh… yes… I mean I am coming".

"Of course," she said, patting my hand gently.

As she left the room, I sank back onto the bed, feeling a little more relaxed. Maybe things weren't so bad after all. Maybe I could handle this, with a little help and understanding from those around me.

I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath, feeling a little more at peace. It wasn't going to be easy, but I was determined to make it work. For myself, and for the tiny life growing inside me.

...Mrs Kiddie POV…

I stood at the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables for the stew I was making for dinner. As I diced the carrots and potatoes, my mind wandered to my pregnant daughter, Emile. I wondered where she was at this time of night.

She had gone out earlier in the day for her antenatal appointment, and I had expected her back hours ago. I couldn't help but worry about her, even though she was an adult now.

I paused for a moment, setting down the knife and resting my hands on the counter. I took a deep breath and tried to push the worries out of my mind. Emile was a responsible young woman, and she would come home when she was ready.

I picked up the knife again and resumed my task, trying to focus on the food in front of me. The stew was one of Emile's favorites, filled with hearty vegetables and chunks of beef. I had started it earlier in the day, letting it simmer on the stove for hours to develop the rich flavors.

As I stirred the pot, I couldn't help but think of the father of Emile's child, Dickinson. I didn't know much about him, and that worried me as well. Emile had always been a little impulsive when it came to relationships, and I didn't want her to get hurt.

But I also knew that I couldn't control her choices. All I could do was be there for her and support her, no matter what.

I added some spices to the stew, savoring the aroma as it wafted up from the pot. Cooking had always been a comfort to me, a way to take care of the people I loved.

And as I stirred the pot and let my worries drift away.

I was lost in my thoughts when I heard a sound coming from the living room. My heart jumped as I wondered if it was Emile, finally home.

I set down the knife and wiped my hands on a dish towel, hurrying out of the kitchen to investigate. As I stepped into the living room, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and turned to face it.

But it wasn't Emile. It was just the cat, playing with a toy mouse on the floor. I let out a sigh of relief and chuckled to myself, feeling foolish for getting so worked up.

I bent down to pet the cat, scratching behind its ears as it purred contentedly. But then I heard another sound, this one coming from the stairs.

My heart leapt into my throat as I wondered if it was Emile after all. I hurried to the foot of the stairs and looked up, my heart pounding.

And there to climb the stairs. "Emile," I called out, relieved to see her safe and sound.

Emile turned around and smiled at me. "Hi, Mom," she said, her voice tired but cheerful.

"Emile, you shouldn't be coming home this late. How was your antenatal?" I called out to her, trying to keep my voice calm despite the worry that was creeping up inside of me.

"Uh... fine. It was fine. The ultrasound is scheduled for tomorrow," she replied, but something about her tone made me even more concerned.

"Okay, well, you should get some rest. You look tired," I said, hoping to ease her worries. "And make sure you eat something. You need to take care of yourself and the baby."

I watched her climb the stairs, and as she disappeared from view, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. My baby is all grown up now and starting a family of her own. It was a bittersweet feeling, but I knew that I had to let her go and trust that she would make the right decisions for herself and her child.

I rested on the rails below the stairs and as I watched her go to the right.

"Emile!" Emile's mother called after me. "Your room is on the right, are you alright?" I asked worriedly.

"Oh, right. I was just looking for something I misplaced earlier, you know," she said with a giggle.

"And what is that?" I replied Wondering what she would be looking for in the direction of my room. Was she all right I thought as I stared at her.

"I, uh... I've forgotten," she said, dashing right towards her room.

I climbed up the stairs and followed her. I was not feeling alright about her.

"The store", what was she doing there I muttered as I saw her stepping into the store. I took quick steps approaching the store when she stepped out.

She looked confused and flustered as our eyes met them. She beamed a smile and walked down the hallway. 'What was the problem? Had she been drinking?'

I stood there thinking for a while before heading to her room. I knocked on the door and waited a few moments before it flew open.

"Is everything okay, dear?" I asked as I ran my eyes all over her and peeked into the room.

She nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm sorry I'm just a little scatterbrained". She said leaning on the wall.

"Stress I see", I nodded and smiled at her.

"Yes…", she replied.

"Don't worry about it. We all have our moments. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She shook my head, feeling grateful for her understanding. "No, thank you. I think I just need to rest for a little while." She added.

'Rest? When she hadn't had dinner?' "You are not coming down for dinner?" She had wanted to start moving but stopped abruptly, her eyebrows slanting downwards.

"Oh… yes… I mean I am coming".

"Of course," I said, patting my hand gently.