Falling for the Mom-to-Be

Annie’s whisper came out on a ragged breath. “Please Lord, keep this baby safe.”

* * *

The next morning, Matthew walked into the warm kitchen of his parents’ home. His mom stirred something on the stove that smelled like maple so he snuck close and peeked over her shoulder. “What’s for breakfast? Pancakes?”

“Matthew!” Helen Zelinsky clutched the base of her neck and laughed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He spied the saucepan of steaming oatmeal and grimaced. He’d grown up on the stuff and never once ate it since moving out. “Got any bacon?”

“Maybe. Now get out of my way. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”

Matthew didn’t hesitate to fix a cup. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down. The kitchen table had been set with bowls, small glasses for juice, milk and a bottle of maple syrup made in the Zelinsky sugar shack. He knew the routine. A hot breakfast was a must according to his mom no matter what the season.

“Matthew.” His father nodded as he entered the kitchen. “What brings you here this early?”

A tall man who’d retired from a long career in the Army, Andy Zelinsky had started a maple syrup operation years ago. Matthew’s parents spent their golden summers into fall manning booths at craft fairs all over northern Michigan to sell their product. They didn’t do too badly, either.

“I’m picking up Luke. We’re going to work on Annie Marshall’s roof this week.” They’d purchased the supplies they needed and were ready to start. He bent down and petted the cat. Tigger butted his head against Matthew’s ankles, purring like mad.

His father poured juice in a glass. “Nice of you to help out there.”

His parents had gone to Jack’s funeral. They knew the situation. Jack had been to their house with him on many occasions to ice-fish since his folks had inland lake frontage. And Jack had bought Zelinsky syrup every Christmas for Annie.

Midsip of his coffee, he paused and set the cup back down. He’d have to make sure Annie got her half gallon this year. When would the baby be born? Surely, by Christmas.

He grabbed a bowl and spoon. “I was going to help Jack with it this summer, anyway.”

“How is Annie? Poor woman.” His mom set the pan of oatmeal on a pad and then retreated for a plate of bacon from the microwave.

Matthew grabbed a couple slices before she set it down.

His mom slapped his hand. “We need to pray first.”

He popped the bacon in his mouth and gasped. “Hot.”

His mother chuckled. “See, Bozia punish.”

Matthew shook his head. Those were his grandmother’s words. He’d heard them all his life, but this time they stopped him cold. Did God really punish? If so, what might be in store for him for breaking the tenth commandment?

“So answer my question.” His mom gave him a sharp look.

“What question?” He reached for another piece of bacon and set it on his napkin.

“How is Annie Marshall?”

He shrugged. “She’s holding her own.”

How’s a woman supposed to be when her husband recently died? Add a baby on the way and it was a wonder Annie still got out of bed, let alone yammer at him for bringing his brother to work on the roof.

The image of Annie with her hands on her hips flashed through his mind. She was even prettier riled up. Why’d he always notice how she looked?

“So sad.” His mother slipped into a chair and served up oatmeal into bowls.

“Yeah.”

“Hey.” His youngest brother entered the kitchen dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt. At twenty years old, Luke still lived at home when he wasn’t away at college.

“Now, we can bless the food.” His father bowed his head.

They all recited the simple prayer his family had used forever. “Bless us, O Lord! and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“Amen.” Matthew poured syrup over his oatmeal, crumpled bacon on top and dug in.

“Uncle John said we’ve got three weeks before his contractor’s account needs to be paid.” Luke stuffed bacon into his mouth.

Matthew nodded. “No problem.”

“You’re not paying for her roof—” His mom started.

“Leave him be, Helen.”

Matthew nodded toward his father. “She’s paying for the materials. Luke asked Uncle John if we could use his account for the discount.”

“Let’s hurry up and get over there.” Luke didn’t linger, nor did he believe in wasting time. But then, he winked. “I want to see you two argue again.”

“Argue?” His mom asked, horrified.

“You should have seen them stare each other down like a couple of alley cats.” Luke grinned.

“Matthew! Why were you arguing with her?”

He kicked his brother under the table, connecting with Luke’s boot instead of anything that might hurt.

His kid brother’s grin only got wider.

“Annie doesn’t accept my help very well,” Matthew finally replied.

His father’s eyebrows rose.

His mom exchanged a look with his dad before she said, “Honey, be careful. She’s still grieving and probably vulnerable.”

“Sure, Mom.”

Too late. He’d already kissed her. He wouldn’t admit that to his mother. Bad enough, he wanted to do it again. That tenth commandment came to mind. Was it considered coveting when the neighbor’s wife was now a widow?

Matthew polished off the rest of his oatmeal and another slice of bacon and then looked at Luke. “Ready?”

“I was born ready.”