Chapter Text
I shut the car door and took a big, deep inhale of the night air, leaning back against the cool metal of my trusty ol’ rust bucket. The breeze smelled a little like snow, but I doubted we’d see any of that until January. I knew I wouldn’t mind missing out on a white Christmas. It was hard enough for me to get around without all that slush and snow. With one month of this pregnancy to go, I was counting the days until I’d be free of swollen ankles, waddling around, having to pee all the damn time–
“Miss Stackhouse.”
My eyes fluttered shut and I sucked a deep draw of breath, trying to steady myself against the dizzy spin of my head.
“Mrs. Martin,” I hissed through clenched teeth.
He made a noncommittal noise and strode towards me from the treeline. He stopped several feet away, keeping space between us. My fists still balled themselves at my sides.
“I’ve heard congratulations are in order.”
My eyes flicked to his. He was just barely illuminated by the security light, making his features harsh, his skin ghostly. I straightened to my full height, trying to look brave. “So are you going to congratulate me?”
His lips twitched to one side in a small grin. He took a few steps closer with his usual confident saunter, his hips swaying like an old west lawman in the saddle. “Are you going to congratulate me?” His voice was teasing. It sent a little tickle of nostalgia up my spine, an ache for days long gone.
He was referring, of course, to his vast wealth and corporate success with New Blood. His company was in the news every week. When I couldn’t sleep, the infomercials haunted me. Eric's picture stared me down at the supermarket from magazine covers, tabloids and newspapers.
Any admiration I could’ve felt for his work was tempered by the fact that none of it was really his to gloat over. I had no doubt that his road to fame was paved with blood and bodies–including Sarah Newlin’s.
Honestly, I used to have all kinds of thoughts and feelings on the issue. For a couple years I let it gnaw at me. But at this moment? I had too many good things on my plate to worry about what he and Pam were up to.
He must’ve taken my silence as an answer. “Well, congratulations, Miss Stackhouse.”
My temper flared and I stressed, “Mrs. Mar—“
His face was inches away from mine in a flash, and I know I flinched, pinned between him and my car. “It doesn’t have the same ring to it,” he said, his voice a low and lethal growl. “Does it?” His head tilted to one side and his eyes were on my lips, but his face betrayed no emotion.
“It’s my name, and it’s the name you will call me.” My voice was softer than I intended. I was trembling. Shit.
His face went hard and his eyes narrowed as they met mine. A tense silence hung between us for a while before he spat, “He still lets you work?”
“Lets me!” I was fuming. We needed the money, even though I was so far along. Arlene had hired me to do some bookkeeping, so I was sitting in the office all day rather than waiting tables. My doctor had assured me that it was perfectly safe and I wanted to work. I didn’t want to lay around and wait to pop.
“If you were–“ He stopped himself. His eyes searched my face for a moment, then he abruptly took a step back and let his gaze fall to the elephant in the room. A little maternal reflex brought my hand up to rest protectively over my belly. I licked my lips to say something, but I couldn’t. I suddenly felt weary under a haze of indistinct emotions. I actually shrugged, feeling embarrassed for reasons I couldn’t begin to explain.
All at once, he pressed a package into my hands and muttered, “Goodnight, Miss Stackhouse.” He zipped away into the trees. I shivered in the wake of his movement. I just gaped at the spot where he’d vanished for a moment, searching for his mental signature–or, really, lack thereof–in the woods. But he was long gone.
At length, I brought my attention to what he’d handed me. It was a rectangular box from Tiffany’s, tied with white ribbon. A tag bore my maiden name in his beautiful penmanship. Tentatively, I opened the box, not sure at all what to expect. When I saw the gift, I actually laughed into the night air, my breath billowing in little clouds around my head until tears poured down my cheeks.
A baby rattle made from silver, engraved with “Adele”.