The third yellow onesie had a loose thread near the collar, right where the baby’s chin would rest. I went to pull it, but a sharp, hot needle of pain flared across my lower back, forcing me to sit down hard on the edge of our mattress.
Nathan stopped buttoning his shirt and looked over at me from the cherry wood dresser. His eyes went straight to my hands, which were curled tightly into the soft cotton fabric of the tiny garment.
“That is the second time you have winced this morning, Evelyn,” he said, his voice carrying that smooth, rehearsed warmth he used when presenting a new commercial lease to a hesitant client.
I slid my thumb over the silver band of my wedding ring, turning it twice around my finger to steady myself. “It is just a dull ache from sitting at the computer last night, Nathan, I have a school board meeting at seven and twenty biology exams to grade before my first-period class.”
“You are not going to any meetings today,” he said, stepping across the room and gently taking the tiny yellow sleeve from my fingers.
He set the onesie on the nightstand, right next to the stack of newborn diapers we had purchased the previous Tuesday at the pharmacy on Main Street. His hand was warm against my shoulder, but his grip remained firm enough to keep me from standing up.
“The board can manage without their secretary for one morning,” he said.
“The budget vote is scheduled for today, Nathan, and they need the certified minutes from our last session or the district funding will be delayed.”
“They will survive without you, Evelyn,” he said, his right knee starting to bounce against the edge of the mattress as he waited for me to agree.
I reached down to adjust the silver strap of my wristwatch, pulling it one notch tighter against my skin. The pain in my lower back had subsided to a low, warm throb, but the restriction of his hand on my shoulder remained.
“I dislike leaving them short-handed when the district is already facing a deficit,” I said.
