I have often thought what a melancholy world this would be without children;
and what an inhuman world without the aged.
~ Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
The shutter closed, capturing her image instantly. Startled, Meg looked up only to have her picture taken again.
"Stop that!" Meg fussed, "With little brothers like you, who needs enemies."
"Little brother, ha! By whose yardstick?" Meg's younger, but much taller, brother slid his arm around her shoulder. Her head barely cleared his shoulder.
"Quit, you'll wake the baby." A younger version of Meg warned.
"Oops," Marcus stepped away while Meg laid a pink bundle in her sister's arms.
"Here you go, Mary." Meg said softly, stopping to finger the baby's chubby cheek.
"Say 'cheese'." Marcus stepped to the opposite side of Mary's hospital bed. A nurse snapped a few pictures of them before Marcus would be satisfied.
"Chicago … Two Weeks Later … Friday …
A large, manila envelope with 'DO NOT BEND' scrawled on the corner lay on Meg's desk when she arrived back from lunch.
"How many times do I have to …" Meg muttered to herself until she read the return address – Marcus Thatcher.
"Pictures of the baby, wonderful." Quickly, Meg stowed her purse and found a letter opener.
TAP, TAP, TAP on the door frame made Meg turn around, a 8X11 photo in hand.
"Come in, Constable. What is it?" She barely looked away from the envelope.
"Here are the arrangements for Ambassador Perez's reception for your approval." Constable Fraser stepped in cautiously, surveying the room before landing on Meg and the photos.
"Lay them on the desk, Fraser," She said as she laid the first photo aside. Fraser's shadow loomed over her, pulling Meg's gaze away from her niece's picture.
"Yes?" she prompted.
"She's beautiful." Fraser met Meg's gaze for a brief moment. "There's a strong family resemblance." He said before swallowing fast.
"Oh, uh, thank you." Meg fumbled.
"Is he giving me a left handed compliment?" she wondered.
Fraser nodded, his eyes sliding down to the picture she held. Marcus had captured her looking lovingly down at baby Aurora in her arms.
"It's my youngest sister's first child." Meg said by way of explanation; though she wondered why she felt the need to.
"It's not like Fraser would give a damn." she thought ruefully.
"A joyous addition, I'm sure." Fraser said pleasantly.
"Yes, very." Meg shuffled the pictures before putting them back in the envelope.
"Was there anything else, Constable?" she asked, hoping Fraser took the hint.
"No, Sir, nothing else."
"Dismissed," Meg said, looking up. With a nod, Fraser turned and walked away.
After he left, Meg pulled the photos out. Wistfully, she studied them. "I should be having a baby, not my little sister. She's barely twenty-three." Meg sighed.
"Oh, well, it'll happen or it won't." She began sifting through her other mail. Another manila folder awaited; this one from the adoption agency.
We regret to inform you, but …
Meg's heart broke against the first sentence.
Rejection
Meg managed to tell Turnbull she'd be leaving to run errands before she choked out a sob. She had to leave, to let her heart break in peace. She didn't want witnesses. Coat and purse in hand, Meg slipped out a side door and into her car.
"I'll always be alone." she thought. With a Hollywood sense of drama, the sky opened up to release fat, cold rain drops. They ran in rivulets, just like Meg's tears. She wanted warm, morning snuggles and sleepy 'Mommy, I love you'. Her gut clenched at the thought of one more night alone.
After a stop at Spirits of Chicago, Meg headed home. It wasn't sixty year old Glendorlan but it would ease the pain; for the night anyway.