From the Heart of Covington by Joan A. Medlicott

Author:Joan A. Medlicott
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 2011-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

At the railing, Emily drew back sharply. “We’re awfully close to the rocks.”

Recognizing the concern of those unfamiliar with boats and the sea, Laura touched Emily’s arm. “It’s okay. Pontoon boats have a shallow draft.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s got a flat bottom. It can glide over shallow areas safely.”

Emily’s hand rested on her heart. “I’m glad to hear that.” She leaned heavily against the railing.

“When’s the baby due?” Laura asked, turning her head toward Emily.

“Late March, early April.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had some morning sickness, but it’s gone, thank goodness. I was a bit nervous about coming today, but”—she straightened up and patted her tummy—“so far, so good. I feel fine.” Lifting her head, she took a deep breath. “Air’s so fresh and clean, and it’s so beautiful. I’m glad I came.”

“So am I,” Laura said, thinking that she also had had doubts about coming, though for far different reasons. “Did you always want children?” she asked.

Emily positioned her elbows on the railing. “Yes, always. Two or three at least. At thirty, when I hadn’t met anyone I wanted to marry, I started to feel time was running out. If I’d never married I’d have had artificial insemination.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I have a friend in her forties who did that. Then I met Russell. Who’d have thought I’d find my soul mate in Covington of all places?” She laughed.

“Russell’s a good man, like his father.” Laura startled herself saying that. She liked Bob, and even Russell, and Tyler too, more than she ever imagined she could.

Emily nodded. “And I love Tyler.”

“Grace considers him her grandson. She’ll feel the same about your baby, I’m sure.”

“Could any child have a more loving, caring grandmother?” Emily asked. “Wish I’d had a grandma like Grace when I was little.”

“I don’t remember my grandmother. My grandfather was an alcoholic, and we kept our distance.”

“I’m sorry. That must have been hard on your mother, on you girls.”

“My father drank too.” Why was she telling all this to practically a stranger?

“These days in my law practice I see that sort of thing and how the kids suffer. There’s one judge who insists that alcoholics enter treatment centers, but you know, they come out, and some of them go right back to drinking.”

“You must see a lot of sad things in your practice.”

“In Florida I didn’t practice family law or divorces. Here, because I’m new at the firm, I get handed cases involving child and spousal abuse. I prefer corporate, wills, trusts, even real estate. It’s different here. For example, our firm’s been asked to send someone along with a social worker to check out a family living, as they say, back behind Walnut. Seven kids, father doesn’t work. Mother works the night shift.”

“Why? They think he’s abusing the children?”

“They haven’t quite said that. Maybe the family can’t take care of all those kids, maybe they should be in foster homes, some of them.” She shrugged. “I guess I’m the one they’re sending.”

“I pray he’s not abusing the children.” Laura changed the subject.

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