Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.
Regina Reed hummed to herself as she strolled across the floor, her fingers running over the fabric of the towels, automatically fixing and adjusting each for maximum presentation.
Smiling to a customer, but instantly gathering that they didn't require assistance, she moved on.
Hearing mutterings around the corner in the bedware and linen, she was intrigued. Her assistance gameface plastered on, she rounded the column.
With the aid of strategically placed mirrors, Regina assessed the woman instantly: she was young, had blonde hair and was rifling through her large handbag, clearly looking for something, with very little success.
When she swung the handbag strap back up to her shoulder, Regan realised two things: one, the swollen abdomen pressing against the cream coloured undershirt outward displayed several months pregnancy, and second, she knew who the woman rifling through her handbag once again was.
"Mereta?" she asked incredulously as she stepped forward. The woman before her with cherry red lips stopping her searching and turned. There was a moment of confusion as Regina saw her searching her mental catalogue of names before she spoke. "Mrs Reed!"
Handbag abandoned at her side once again, a hand was proferred. Brushing aside the gesture, the older woman pulled her daughter-in-law in for a hug.
She felt the firm roundness between them, and when they parted she noticed the cautious way her son's wife gripped the strap of her handbag, the other flittering across her distended belly before resting uselessly at her side.
"How have you been, Mrs Reed?" she asked politely.
"Regina, please," she corrected instantly. "You're family." She gestured toward her stomach. "You both are."
"About that..." Wondering at the nerves on the girl, Regina stormed on, not willing to hear what she might say. "And so why are you here?"
This seemed to be safe ground. "I need to find a particular type of sheet, but I've lost all the details I wrote down and I can't seem to remember it." She smiled ruefully. "Pregnancy brain settles in at last."
Regina laughed. "Perhaps I can help. Can you describe what you are looking for?"
Ten minutes later – and armed with the 1000 count sheets identical to those that were used to kill Deborah Eisenhower – Regina handed over the receipt. "Have a good day, and do keep in touch dear."
She saw Mereta smile and make to leave. She took two steps before she turned. "The baby's not Tim's you know?" the young woman said, biting her bottom lip.
"I know dear," said Regina softly, and she saw the relief.
Keeping an eye on the girl who had saved her son's life as she reached the automatic doors, Regina was making a show of tidying the service desk when she saw her daughter-in-law startle as she bumped into an older Latino man.
She watched openly with intrigue, all pretence of working forgotten as the man steadied Mereta with a hand on her upper arm, a hand that then travelled down the limb and easily took the shopping bag as they spoke, words unheard so far away.
There seemed to be a connection between the two and as they moved out of sight on the concourse, the last sight Regina had of his son's-wife-no-longer was of her talking earnestly to her man, his palm low on the small of her back as he led them both.
Regina nodded her approval at his moderated pace in consideration of her condition – one that she suspected he had some involvement in, years of experience in retail viewing various single and not-so-single types giving her acute observational skills.
It did little to suppress her own desire for grandchildren, but at least Mereta was cared for.
Finito.