She pulls on an old t-shirt, that she finds in her drawer. She climbs into her bed, and turns off the light. She stares at the clock for a moment. She rolls over, onto her back. She stares up at the ceiling. She closes her eyes, in an attempt to go to sleep. She's nearly asleep, when she feels it. She tries to ignore the fluttering sensation. After a few seconds it stops. She closes her eyes, and tries to fall asleep. A few moments later she feels the fluttering again. She rolls over, and turns on the light. She kicks off her covers, and rolls up the t-shirt. She exposes the mismatched boxer shorts underneath. She stares at her stomach.
It was not as flat as it had once been. She inspects the skin closely, clearly there was nothing on her. She adjusts her shirt, and reaches down, and pulls the covers back over her. She flips off the light, and closes her eyes, once again. She eventually drifts off to sleep. A few hours later she wakes up, and goes to the bathroom, to pee. She climbs back in bed, and closes her eyes. As she lies on her side the fluttering sensation starts again. She rolls over, and reaches for her phone. She eyes the clock. It reminds her that it's too late to call anyone. The green numbers read; 218. She dials anyway.
After seven rings a sheepish voice comes on the other end of the line. "Hello?" she answers groggily.
"I'm sorry to be calling so late."
"Jane, is something wrong?"
"I don't know."
"Why are you calling me? Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"I know that it's too late to call."
"Is there a dead body somewhere?"
"No."
"Then what reason do you have, for waking me from a deep sleep?"
"I can't sleep."
"What do you want from me? Do you want me to sing you a lullaby?"
"No. I've heard you sing, believe me, I don't need that."
"Then why are you calling me?""I don't know what's happening."
"What do you mean? Is something wrong?"
"Maybe I'm just being paranoid. It's late, I could be imagining things."
"What things?"
"It feels like something is fluttering..."
Before she can go any farther Maura stops her, "Jane it's normal, just go back to sleep. It's nothing to worry about."
"What's normal?"
"To feel like it's fluttering."
"Feel like what is fluttering?"
"Jane it's just the baby."
"What?"
"It's just the baby moving, now go back to sleep."
"Oh."
"Is that all you need?"
"I..."
"Goodnight, Jane," Maura hangs up.
Jane places the phone back onto her bedside stand. She rolls on to her back, and attempts to go back to sleep. Eventually, after tossing and turning, she falls back to sleep. When she wakes up in the morning, she finds that she is not alone. She opens her eyes, and finds her mother sitting on the end of her bed.
"Ma, what are you doing in here?"
"I was watching you sleep."
"That's creepy, I am a grown woman."
"You're still my baby."
"What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to come and see you. Is it a crime to come and see my only daughter? I mean you refuse to return my phone calls. You won't even answer my text messages. You don't come over. What was I supposed to do?"
"When did you learn to text?"
"That isn't the point, Janey."
"What is the point, Ma?"
"You're avoiding me. I want to know why."
"Do I have to have a reason?"
"That was rude."
"I've got to get ready for work."
"By all means, don't let me stop you," Angela insists.
Jane climbs out of bed, and walks past her mother. She walks into the closet, and begins to get dressed. When she comes out of the closet she's wearing a navy blue t-shirt, a charcoal grey blazer, and charcoal grey pants. Angela watches her closely.
"Why are you staring at me?"
"There is something different about you."
"Well the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
"Why isn't your shirt tucked in?"
"It's not a crime to leave my shirt un-tucked."
"It makes you look un-kept. That is a poor reflection on me, as your mother."
"I'm not six anymore, ma."
"Did you... I never thought that you would..." Angela trails off.
"What?"
"Your boobs."
"Why are you looking at my boobs?"
"Did you have a boob job?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I didn't. Why would you think that?"
"Because they look bigger."
"So you automatically assume that I had a boob job? Do you really think that I would do that?"
"Jane, I don't know what you would do, anymore."
"Save it," Jane warns.
"It's your life, I have to learn to accept that, even if the choices you make are wrong. Even if the choices you make go against God."
"You're being dramatic."
"Am I? Did you have a breast implants?"
"No, of course not. I would never do that."
"Are you wearing a wonder bra, or something?"
"No," she shakes her head, and rolls her eyes.
"What is going on with you? Why do you have such a bad attitude this morning?"
"You break into my apartment, and I am not allowed to have a bad attitude?"
"I did not break in. I used the key."
"Did it ever occur to you, that I might just not want to talk about it?"
"I don't care if you want to talk about it, or not. I want to talk about it."
"So that makes it ok?"
"Jane why are you doing this? You're spiraling out of control. I feel like I don't even know you anymore. Why did you do this? Jane I am having a very hard time with this. I don't understand it."
"Do what, Ma?"
"You know what," Angela counters.
"Get knocked up, after a drunken one-night stand, with my partner? I'm sure that was planned. I did it just to embarrass you."
"That's not what I am talking about, although I'm not very happy about that part, either."
"What are you talking about?"
"The other part."
"What other part?"
"You... you getting rid of it."
"Getting rid of it?" Jane raises an eyebrow.
"Having an abortion, there I said it. I want to know why. Tell me, why. I just don't understand."
"I wouldn't expect you to understand anything that I do."
"Please, just tell me why you did it. It's been driving me crazy. I have to know. It keeps me up at night, thinking about it. The whole thing upsets me. The thought of..."
Jane cuts her off, "Mom, just stop."
"I'm sorry. I'm not trying to make you feel bad."
"Good, because I don't."
"You have no remorse?"
"Remorse? I have nothing to feel remorseful for."
"Did you confess?"
"I have nothing to confess. I didn't do anything wrong."
"You don't think that it was wrong, to have an abortion?"
