by M Sawyer
“It’s a girl,” she said, her voice quavering.
“A girl,” Melissa breathed.
For a moment, they were quiet. All Nolin could hear was splashing in the shower and Drew’s absentminded humming.
“You’re going to have a daughter,” Melissa said dreamily. “My goodness.”
“I know,” said Nolin. They stared at each other for moment, then they both smiled, and Melissa broke into an excited giggle.
“Oh my goodness!” she laughed, taking off her glasses to wipe her eyes. “Wow.”
“Just a few more months,” Nolin said, grinning. “Drew’s so excited. He’s going to spoil her rotten. I think we knew from the beginning that it would be a girl.”
Melissa smiled and nodded. “That’s how I felt too, with you,” she said. “Your father insisted you were boy, but I knew from the moment I found out I was pregnant that I would have a daughter.”
Nolin drew in a breath. “You did?”
Melissa nodded. “I won’t lie; that was a rough pregnancy. I was sick, sick, sick. I could barely pull my head out of the toilet. I was glad I was having a girl, though. I used to wonder what you’d be like, what you’d look like.”
“Was I what you expected?” Nolin asked, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.
Melissa looked her in the eye through the screen, a grim smile on her face. “Yes,” she said. “You were exactly what I expected. You were everything I thought you’d be and more.”
Nolin looked down at her belly, smiling to herself. “I’m sure she’ll be exactly the same,” she said.
“I’m sure she will be. A rambunctious, wild little spitfire just like you were.”
“I hope she gets Drew’s patience,” said Nolin.
“And your grit,” Melissa countered.
Nolin stroked her belly, running her finger over the tiny nub of her navel.
“So, were you excited? To have a daughter?” she asked.
Melissa’s looked somewhere above the screen, her eyes wandering, and nodded. “Sometimes, I really was,” she said thoughtfully. “Mostly, I was terrified. Motherhood isn’t for sissies, and I was afraid I couldn’t handle it. And we both know that was true; turns out, I couldn’t.”
There was a pause. Nolin looked into her lap awkwardly.
“I wouldn’t take it back,” Melissa went on. “Sometimes, you were the only light in my life. My marriage was failing, I was getting sicker by the day, and there was always her...” she trailed off. “But I had you. I got to watch you grow, watch you learn. You were so smart, Nolin. So smart.” She shook her head. “And I wanted to teach you everything. Art, literature, about everything I knew. I loved that you loved to read. And I loved you. I just didn’t know how to show you. That love was buried so far under all the other mess that I forgot it was there sometimes.” She wiped another tear from under her glasses. “But there you are.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. The shower was still running. Nolin hoped he still had a few minutes; she might join him.
“Well,” said Melissa, an air of finality in her voice, “I’d better let you go. I have a deadline to hit, unicorns to draw. The usual.”
Nolin smiled and nodded. “Okay.”
They said good-bye and Melissa disconnected. Nolin closed the screen.
Drew started singing “Bohemian Rhapsody.” He’d be there for a while. He had to finish the song.
Nolin went into the bedroom and stripped down to her socks, underwear, and undershirt. Though the fire was warm, she shivered in the cold little bedroom.
She crossed to her side of the bed, lifted the mattress, and thrust her hand underneath.
Her hand closed around it—the pink baby shoe.
She held it for just a moment. The faded knit was still tight and secure. Sometimes she pulled the shoe from its hiding place and marveled at how small it was, that her foot once fit inside it. That the baby in her womb would be that small. Would anyone crochet shoes for her daughter?
Nolin slipped the shoe back in its place before padding over to the bathroom, pausing in from of the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door.
Her six-month belly swelled, balancing awkwardly on her thin legs. She’d never get used to it. It was cumbersome, hard to sleep with. Drew adored it, but sometimes it got in the way during sex. Nolin didn’t recognize her own body. It was still her face, her legs and arms, her wild hair, but everything in between was new to her.
She hugged her arms around her stomach. The little creature inside rolled, and the skin of Nolin’s belly rippled.
I’m your mother, Nolin thought.
What a complicated thing, a mother. Something constantly changing, something beautiful and terrifying sometimes, something benevolent and yet always afraid.
Nolin met her own eyes in the mirror. She looked terrified. Had Melissa had ever done this when she was pregnant? Looked at herself and wondered if she could do it?
I’m your mother, Nolin thought again.
The drop of golden warmth glowed in her chest, brighter than ever.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
M. K. Sawyer has been writing stories since elementary school, often staying in from recess to write in the school library. She started writing The Goblin’s Daughter while she was enrolled in the creative writing program at Weber State University.
When she isn’t writing, M. is usually reading, painting, or exploring the mountains near her home. M. lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, with her husband and cat.
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
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-M. K. Sawyer
Acknowledgments
It took nine years for The Goblin’s Daughter to be born, from the first tiny seed of an idea to this book you hold in your hands.
There are so many people who helped me along the way and who inspired me long before this story was even a thought.
Thank you to my Sam for endless love and patience, for your honesty, for always being there to rescue me from the clutches of technology or from my own emotional meltdowns. Thank you for your help and faith in me during the very long production of this book. I love you so much.
Thank you Mom and Dad for always encouraging me, believing in me, and joking about me supporting you in your old age when I’m a famous writer. Thank you for joking that you’ll tell the world all kinds of embarrassing stories about me when my name is a household term. You never doubted me for a second, and I couldn’t have written this book without your support.
Chandler, Adam, and Erianne, you guys never doubted me either. You’ve always made me feel like I can accomplish anything. I love you dorks.
Jernae, Wyatt, and Liesel, I can’t thank you enough for your invaluable feedback and encouragement. Without you, this book would still be an unfinished draft rotting away on my hard drive. And a special thanks to Jernae for being there from the very beginning of this book’s journey, and for extending an invitation when I felt like giving up on it.
Thank you so much to Destinee, my best fran (misspelled on purpose, calm down), for your help, your feedback, and for being the president of my fan club. Thanks for listening to endless complaints and frustrations as I wrote and produced this book. I love you to bits and you’re the very best friend a girl could ask for.
Thank you to Chandice, Josh, and Missy for being my beta reader guinea pigs. Your feedback and support mean the world to me!
Special thanks to Suzanne Johnson, my incredible editor for your wonderful work on this book,
and to my designer David Provolo for making my book beautiful. This book wouldn’t be what it is without you!
Finally, thank you to the long parade of teachers and mentors who helped me grow as a writer; to Mrs. Bambrough, my elementary school librarian who took a weird little kid under her wing; and to Dr. Prothero and Dr. Schwiebert for always pushing me, teaching me, and making sure I always carried a notebook.
There are hordes of other friends, family members, teachers, and colleagues who have supported me, inspired me, and encouraged me, so many that I probably couldn’t list them all, but thank you all for everything you’ve done for me.
This book is only the beginning.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Part One
Ten Years Later
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Part Two
Ten Years Later
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Epilogue
Eight years later
Acknowledgments
