Earlier this morning, I had to drink four ounces of the most disgustingly thick and sweet glucose serum. It was absolutely foul and I wanted to puke. I hadn’t been allowed to eat anything during the time either, having to wait until the test was complete.
Sitting in the cold, hard chair with my arm extended out in front of me, the nurse wrapped a rubber tie tightly around my bicep. After a few taps on my vein, she poked the needle through my skin and drew the blood she needed. I used to have a small apprehension about needles but, after all the poking and prodding since the car accident and the pregnancy, I was a pro.
Once she was finished, I gulped down the granola bar I had in my purse, feeling like I'd smuggled contraband into the office, and waited for my official doctor’s appointment.
After the appointment, I had the driver immediately take me to a restaurant.
Ordering a large breakfast, a familiar face appeared.
"Lilli?"
Loreley stood next to the table. I started to stand to greet her.
"No, no, please stay seated." She motioned for me to stop. "Do you mind?" She pointed to the empty chair next to me.
"Of course not." I smiled. "Do you want anything?"
She looked through the menu as I called the waiter back over. He moved quickly. Loreley placed her order, which would look like nothing compared to mine.
"So, how are you?" She smiled warmly.
"I’m good. Hey, I never got to thank you." She looked at me with confusion on her face. "For telling us about Becca." I explained. "Thank you."
She smiled. "It was my pleasure. I couldn’t believe what she had done when I found out." Shaking her head with a disgusted look on her face, she continued, "I mean, the Iverson’s have always been good to her and you never did anything to her. I just don’t get it."
"Well, thankfully we have some answers. Aidan is still working on the rest of it." I sighed.
"I’m just happy I was able to help." Loreley placed her hand over mine with a pat.
Loreley and I ate lunch together while discussing some common interests. I discovered we had a lot in common. We both loved to read and held an interest in poetry though neither of us wrote it.
After a few hours, Loreley and I said goodbye and went our separate ways. Viola’s was my next stop.
"Lilli…" Viola kissed my cheek, hugged me, and then rubbed my stomach. "How are you today?"
"Good. A little tired, but good." I gave a small smile.
"You poor thing." She looked at me with pity.
We got into her car and headed to a shelter that the foundation was considering taking under its wing.
Once inside, I started to take the place under an investigative eye. The building was dilapidated, but still seemed in good standing. The woman who ran the shelter was very pleasant and welcoming.
"I am so glad you agreed to visit today." She shook Viola’s hand before turning to me. Her eyes dropped to my stomach, just like everyone's did now, and then looked up smiling as we shook hands. "My name is Debra."
"It is entirely our pleasure." Viola responded.
"Let me show you around and tell you a little bit about the place. Please, question me at any time." Debra motioned for us to follow.
"It is a little run down, isn’t it?" Viola whispered into my ear. I nodded in response.
"This is the recreation room." Debra motioned through a large set of doors. The room was filled with televisions, couches, pool tables, card tables and folding chairs, book shelves, and more. "Most of the young adults hang out in here during the days."
"This is the dining room." She motioned through another set of double doors across from the recreation room. Looking around, I could easily see they needed new flooring and wall treatment. It could also use a good scrubbing. "The kitchen is this way."
The kitchen also needed some work: new appliances, flooring, a good cleaning and, probably, pots and pans.
Viola’s smile never faltered as Debra led us around the building. Clearly, they needed help. They were constantly at full capacity but only had enough to really support a third of those who stayed there.
Most of the population in the shelter consisted of young mothers, abused kids, and abused women and their children. There were also a couple of single fathers with small children. My heart instantly broke when we entered a nursery of small infants and toddlers.
One crib held a baby who'd been burned and a toddler with lost eyesight. Then there was a young, pregnant girl who looked to be helping out.
"Who is the girl? Does she work here?"
Debra followed my eyes and smiled.
"That's Abby. She came to us a few months ago from an abusive foster family." Debra’s face fell. "She was one of three foster children that lived with the family and their two children." She sighed heavily and then her voice dropped to a whisper.
"She's thirteen years old and pregnant with the foster parent’s grandchild. They beat her and kicked her out when they found out she was pregnant. Their biological son, who is seventeen by the way, denies the child is his. It’s a shame because she has the biggest heart and loves to help in here."