"Miss Felicity? Are you ever gonna wake up? It's almost suppertime."
Candace's voice cut through the fog of sleep, and slowly Felicity returned to consciousness. Disoriented, she could not at first recall why she happened to be sleeping at suppertime or why her eyes were so puffy and swollen. Then it all came back to her in a rush. The baby. And Joshua. She groaned.
"Are you all right?" Candace asked in concern. "Mr. Josh said to let you sleep as long as you want, but I didn't reckon you'd want to miss a meal."
"I'm fine," Felicity assured her, struggling to break free of the lethargy that bound her. So many conflicting thoughts fought for dominance in her brain that for a moment she did not even think to wonder whether Candace knew the news. When she did, she realized that was impossible. If Candace had known, she would have told Felicity herself, and Joshua would not have had to go to Blanche. With new bitterness, she experienced the humiliation of having needed her own husband to tell her she was pregnant.
"Did Joshua tell you that I'm going to have a baby?" Felicity asked, watching Candace's expression carefully.
The black woman's eyes grew large, and for the first time in months she turned her full attention to what Felicity was saying. "A baby?" she repeated. Her eyes seemed to kindle to life. "When? How far along are you?" She moved quickly over to the bed and sat down beside Felicity.
"I… I don't know," Felicity admitted, acknowledging another humiliation. "How can you tell?"
In an instant, Candace became her old self, competent and capable. She asked the necessary questions and determined the answer. "I'd guess it must've happened right away, as soon as you two got married. I expect the baby will be along round about early December. Just in time for Christmas. There's so much to do," she said almost to herself. "Mr. Josh's old cradle will have to be painted, and we can start right away on making some baby clothes. A winter baby will need a fur bunting, too, and a quilt and…"
Felicity listened in amazement as Candace rattled on with her plans. It had been so long since Candace had shown enthusiasm for anything that Felicity was slightly overwhelmed. But Candace's excitement was contagious, and soon Felicity caught it.
This was, after all, her baby, too, her very own child. Fora moment she tried to imagine holding it in her arms, touching it, kissing it, suckling it at her breast. She already loved this nameless, faceless being, and he-or she-would love her in return, with complete devotion, whether or not his father did. Why should she torture herself wishing for something she did not have when she did have something so wonderful? The joy she had felt initially came flooding back as she and Candace made their plans.
If Joshua did not love her, she would always have his child. They would both love the baby, and Joshua was bound to be pleased with her when he saw how she cared for his son. Who knew, he might even come to love her after all.
"Sounds like we have company," Josh remarked, rising from his wingbacked chair to see who had come to visit them.
Felicity glanced up from her sewing and listened intently. After a moment she, too, heard the sound of a wagon in the yard. With a weary sigh, she laid aside her work and began the laborious process of hauling her heavy body out of the elaborately carved rocking chair that Joshua had ordered specially for her. The baby protested the movement with a violent kick to her ribs that left her breathless. Gingerly rubbing her side, Felicity could not help but smile. Little Joshua, as she liked to think of him, was particularly restless today. Perhaps he would soon be making his appearance. The thought both elated and terrified her.
As much as she longed to hold her baby in her arms-and have the ordeal of pregnancy be over-she could hardly stand the thought of childbirth with its unknown terrors. Odd how the endless scorching summer months now seemed to have flown by, bringing all too quickly the day when her child would be born. Felicity shivered, but not from the cold. Even though November would soon be over, the weather was still holding, so they had not yet even needed a fire in the evening.
"It's Blanche," Josh reported from his position by the front window.
"Of course," Felicity replied with amusement. Who else would it be? Blanche had visited her every Sunday afternoon since learning of her pregnancy. Lately, she had begun visiting at least once and sometimes twice during the week, too. Felicity had been grateful for those visits. Blanche's never-failing good cheer had helped her over more than one rough spot. She could never feel sorry for herself very long with Blanche around.
Unfortunately, Felicity had an alarming tendency to feel very sorry for herself, a tendency that came more frequently as her body grew larger. The bulkier she got, the less Joshua smiled at her. Not that he mistreated her or anything. He was still as attentive and thoughtful as ever. More so, if the truth were told.
But he simply did not want her anymore. She knew because they hadn't made love in months.
Now, of course, making love was out of the question. She was too far along. But even back when they had been able to, he had hardly ever touched her. Just as she had suspected, his consuming passion for her died the moment he learned she had conceived.
"Anybody home?" Blanche called from outside.
Josh opened the front door and stood back to allow Felicity to pass before him. "You'd better put your shawl on. It's cool out there," he advised, reaching for it.
Felicity swallowed the bitterness that rose like bile in her throat and turned so he could place the wrap around her shoulders. He was being considerate, she told herself. Yes, he couldn't let anything happen to his child, another voice replied mockingly. Shaking off her tormenting thoughts, Felicity pinned a little smile to her lips and walked slowly out onto the porch to greet her guest.
As usual, Blanche was dressed outrageously. Today she wore emerald-green watered silk. Felicity knew a moment's envy as she noted Blanche's wasp waist above the enormous bustle. Soon, she reminded herself. Very soon.
"What's the matter with you, Joshua?" Blanche demanded as she traipsed regally up the stairs. "Don't you ever feed this girl? Look at her! She looks like a string with a knot tied in it."
"A very large knot," Felicity said, placing both hands on her protruding stomach and forcing a smile.
"Oh, she eats, all right," Josh replied. "Candace says she eats so much it makes her poorly to carry it around."
Felicity glanced up in surprise at the odd tone of his voice. He was smiling, but the smile was as strained as hers. Then she saw Blanche reach out and pat his arm in a comforting gesture. "It won't be much longer now," Blanche said, but she said it to Josh, her voice soft and soothing.
The tears that were always too ready to fall nowadays sprang to her eyes. Her husband hated the way she looked, and her friend sympathized with him. Turning quickly so they would not see her crying, Felicity endeavored to make her voice sound as cheerful as possible. "Let's go inside. It's getting cold out here." She made a little business about blowing her nose once she got in the house.
"You aren't coming down with something, are you?" Blanche asked with concern.
"No, no. It's just the weather. I guess we'll need a fire tonight. Come and sit down. How have you been?" Felicity babbled, leading the way to where the chairs were grouped before the hearth.
"I'm fine, as usual," Blanche replied thoughtfully, studying Felicity intently. "The important question is, how are you?"
"Oh, fine as usual," Felicity mimicked, easing herself down into the rocking chair.
Blanche watched her before taking her own seat on the settee. Joshua, she noticed, stood hovering over Felicity until the girl was comfortably settled. Poor Joshua. If his hair hadn't already been white, this pregnancy would have turned it. He was scared to death, although Blanche doubted he would ever admit such a thing, even to himself. He probably hadn't even admitted how much he loved his wife. Blanche could tell, though. The way his eyes anxiously followed the girl's every move, the way he listened to her speak, even the way he hardly ever smiled anymore, all that and more told Blanche everything she needed to know.