Mia shook her head, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment as she looked at the store clerk.
“I’m sorry—that was a big overshare. I don’t know why I told you that.”
“My mom always says that when you overshare, it’s because you know you’ve got a sympathetic ear to listen,” Kaylee said promptly. “So where’s your little one?”
Mia shook her head again.
“Lost it,” she whispered. It was shame on top of shame. Not only had she dropped out of high school just three months before graduation and lost her scholarship to Julliard, she’d also lost the baby Hank had made in her, which had been the cause of her altered life in the first place.
Of course, by then they’d been married and Hank had already been scouting around for deputy jobs—preferably out of state and away from her family. And that was how they had settled in Crate’s Corners.
“I’m so sorry,” Kaylee said swiftly. She sat down beside Mia on the piano bench and gave her a heartfelt look. “It’s none of my business, but I’ve had friends that miscarried before and went on to have lots of happy, healthy babies afterwards.”
“Thank you.” Mia tried to smile. “That’s…very kind of you to say. We are trying again,” she added, which was true. Hank tried to get her pregnant at least four or five times a week. So far, though, nothing had taken.
At least it didn’t hurt as much as the first time had, Mia thought. It wasn’t pleasant—a lot of huffing and puffing and shoving and grunting while she lay there in the dark with her legs spread and Hank’s hot sweat dripping down on her from above—but it no longer felt like he was ripping her apart. So there was that.
“Well, if you’re not doing anything else at the moment, why don’t you come work with me?” Kaylee asked, tactfully changing the subject back to the job she was apparently offering Mia. “The pay isn’t great, but it’s better than nothing, which is what you’re making now if you’re not working. Plus, you get to do what you love for a living and help me shape young minds.”
“I don’t know about the ‘shaping young minds’ part,” Mia said cautiously. “But I do love to play. Hank—that’s my husband—complains that’s all I do all day when I should be doing my chores.”
Hank didn’t much care for music—unless it was old school Country like Merle Haggard and Conway Twitty and the like. He could listen to their twangy guitars and syrupy lyrics about how ‘somebody done them wrong’ all day. But he didn’t care for piano—especially not classical music. Which was why Mia could only practice pieces, like the Chopin in her purse, when he was away at work. If she tried playing anything classical when he was home, he would stomp in the room and start shouting for her to “stop playing that stuck-up rich people shit!”
And sometimes he does more than stomp. Sometimes he hits, whispered the dark little voice in her head. Mia hushed it—tried to ignore it. She loved her husband—honestly she did. It was just that Hank had a bit of a temper. But he wasn’t so bad, really—not much different from any other man, she was sure…
“Oh, I don’t know,” she’d said uncertainly to Kaylee, who was looking at her with hopeful eyes. “I mean, it sounds like a wonderful opportunity, but I don’t know if my husband would approve.”
“You leave him to me!” Kaylee exclaimed. “I bet I can work him around. Do you live far from the high school?”
Mia knew which one she meant—Robert E Lee High, home of the Bulldogs—Crate’s Corners was too small to have more than one. In fact, the little house she and Hank lived in was only a couple of blocks away. Which would be perfect, because Hank wouldn’t even have to drive her there. It would be no trouble at all…if only he would let her.
Mia had serious doubts about that last question, but Kaylee was true to her word. She somehow talked Hank, (who was extremely reluctant,) into letting Mia come and play for the choir class.
“But only until you get pregnant, peanut,” he’d said sternly. “After that, you’ll need to stay home and raise the babies. You know how I feel about women working outside the home.”
“Yes, Hank,” Mia had murmured submissively. And inside, she made a secret wish that she might not get pregnant again—at least, not right away. Because she wanted to play for the high school choir and spend time with the happy, bouncy Kaylee who was so outgoing and pretty and nice.
And also because if he hits you, he might hit the baby too—if you ever had one, whispered that dark little voice that had taken up residence in the back of her head the first time Hank had slapped her. That had been on their honeymoon and there had been plenty of instances since. What would you do if he hit the baby?