Maureen Child - Mom In Waiting

“Yes, please,” she said and nodded at the waitress. “Thanks, Bonnie.”

The tired-looking woman smiled at her. “No problem, honey.”

When she left to get the tea, Rick looked at Tracy. “How’d you know her name?”

“She’s wearing a name tag,” Tracy said with a shrug.

“Huh.” Rick shook his head, then focused his gaze on her again as he picked up his knife and fork, preparing to dig into his halibut steak. “So, back to the subject at hand. What’s the plan, Trace?”

She glanced at her breast of chicken plate and knew she’d never be able to force a bite down until she’d gotten this over with. And actually, she told herself, this was a very good thing. Sort of like a test case. Judging Rick’s reaction might give her an idea of how all the folks back home would respond.

She nodded, took a deep breath, and reached into her purse. Tracy fumbled blindly in its depths. She felt his gaze on her which made her a little clumsier than usual. Mentally, she reminded herself that it was definitely time to clean out the purse again. It seemed the bigger her purses were, the more junk she managed to cram inside.

She squinted at the contents, but in the dim light, it took her several minutes to locate the little velvet box and then get it opened. Her fingertips moved across the sharp, cold edges of the stone nestled in the jeweler’s box as she briefly rethought her brilliant plan. What if he laughed? Oh my, this suddenly felt so stupid. So childish. Her stomach twisted with nerves. But she’d come too far to quit now.

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