Chapter 22 Motherhood

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The warehouse had proven to be a waste of time unless Cynthia could learn how to manoeuvre and fuel an aircraft. Unlikely. She shut the heavy door and debated breaking into another building with false hope or just calling it a night. She scanned the street. There had to be a car manufacturer or dealership nearby. Growing up with a mechanic for a father, she knew her way around an engine. The thought of family made her heart burn until tears filled her chestnut eyes.

“Cynthia?” A voice called out from behind her. “Cynthia?”

She turned around and knew exactly who to expect. The confused teen who knew her emotions about as well as rocket science stood before her. Her face was red and splotchy, her lips forced into a smile that fought dissolution.

“Vita, you shouldn’t be here, or yelling either. You could get yourself attacked. Don’t you realize how dangerous it is on the outside?”

“I’m not a child. I’ve seen what this world has come to.”

“I know you aren’t. You’ve made that quite clear.”

Vita fumbled with the sleeves of her grungy top. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You really don’t owe me anything. You are free to make your own decisions and that is your right. I may not agree with them, but I can’t stop them.”

“I’m scared. I’m scared this baby might be cursed.”

“Cursed? Vita, we should really find a safer place to have this conversation.”

Being out in the open for extended periods of times sent Cynthia’s heart racing. In the past month, she had experienced more things than she ought to in her thirty five years. They walked toward another large hangar-like building. It had a few more windows and a bright lobby shone in the daylight. A few plush gray chairs were still upright opposite an imposing oak desk. A water cooler! She nearly jumped for joy just at the mere sight.

The door handle offered much resistance, just as most other buildings they came across. Unlocking the door without breaking the glass was impossible. Cynthia looked around the parking lot for large rocks or sticks, maybe even a tail pipe. When she returned with a piece of eaves trough, Vita’s body hung out of a nearby window.

“What are you doing?”

How could the girl be so careless to put her unborn child in danger? There could be broken glass. Cynthia ran to her assistance since Vita had wedged herself between the pane and the frame like a puzzle. Her feet struggled in vain to find the ground in an effort to propel her through to the other side. Cynthia shook her head and helped ease the girl through before she broke the window.

“Thanks,” Vita said after she landed foot first on the other side. Not that she would have cared about the damage a fall could sustain to her womb.

Cynthia sized up the window and knew her hips wouldn’t fit through it. There was absolutely no way a grown woman would pull off that stunt. Vita must have had a similar thought as walked over and opened up the front door for her. Moments later, the girl flung herself down on the suede couch in the lobby with a sigh. Calmed features washed over her face as she closed her eyes. Cynthia pulled one of the office chairs across the light carpet to join her.

 “We should live here,” Vita said and snuggled into the blue pillow.

“We don’t even know if there are others in this building.”

“Who leave empty couches and free water? I don’t think so.”

“It’s suspiciously clean and well kept in here.”

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