She has been in Italy for over two months. The communication with her family has grown less and less frequent with each passing day. She takes a seat on the small balcony off her one bedroom apartment. It isn't anything fancy. Her parents, all of them pushed for something fancier, and safer, with more than two locks. She sits in a chair, on the balcony. On the small table in front of her sits a magazine. She finds herself incredibly distracted.
She doesn't notice the motorbike driving past, on the street below, or the neighbor hanging laundry out to dry. Her eyes drift from her magazine towards her stomach. She stares at it, in disbelief, despite the fact that it has been noticeable for quite some time. Every morning when she wakes up to this reality she still finds herself a little bit surprised. As she vacates her seat, and heads towards the balcony railing she receives a kick to the ribs.
She stands in front of the railing with her rounded stomach, and oversized, light weight navy blue sweater. She looks at the street below her. It's a narrow street made of brick. The shop owner below rolls out fresh baked pastries. She watches the people as they pass by. A woman stops in front of the bakery, and studies the assortment. She holds onto the hand of a small child. Daphne guesses the child can't be more than two. The little one has blonde curls. As if she knows that Daphne is watching her, she looks up. She waves at Daphne.
The homesickness washes over her in an instant. She tries her best not to think about it. In fact the past months have been full of her trying not to think about any of the details of the situation that she's in. She can't help but think about it. Every time she leaves her apartment she sees a baby in a stroller, or a toddler holding onto their mother's hand, and she can't help but be reminded of her own situation. She takes a deep breath, and looks up at the sky. It looks as if it might rain. She grabs her magazine, and heads inside. She takes a seat at her small kitchen table.
She pulls out her tablet, and turns it on. She places her hand on her stomach for a brief moment. She moves it, and scoots closer to the table. She stares at the tablet knowing that she is in a time zone seven hours ahead of Kansas. She looks at the time on her screen. It's not even eight o'clock in Italy. She contemplates who to contact. A few seconds later a face appears on the screen. The room is dark, but a lamp flips on to illuminate the room.
"Daphne it is twelve thirty I just fell asleep, what's wrong?" Bay questions, rubbing her eyes.
"I guess I was just feeling homesick."
"You couldn't wait to tell me that until morning?"
"It is morning."
"In Italy," she corrects her.
"How is everyone?"
"That is really why you woke me up in the middle of the night? You wanted to ask me how everyone is? We haven't heard from you in over a week. What's going on?"
"I miss everyone. I miss being home."
"Spring break is coming up next week, do you want me to come visit?"
"No. I am sorry that I woke you up. I don't know what I was thinking. Go back to sleep."
"Are you sure?"
"We can talk later."
The following morning she wakes up to flashing lights, indicating that someone is knocking on her door. She climbs out of her bed, in her loose t-shirt, and pajama bottoms. Her hair is secured in a braid. She looks at the clock, and makes her way out of the bedroom. She heads through the living room, past the couch, to the door. She stops, and looks out the peephole. She stares at the party on the other side in confusion. For a moment she wonders if it's a dream.
"What are you doing here?" she yawns, as she looks out the peephole.
"Bay said that you were homesick."
"So your solution was to jump on a plane and come to Italy?"
"Yes," she answers.
"Where is everyone else?"
"At home."
"Oh."
"You sound disappointed."
"I just thought..."
Kathryn cuts her off, "She didn't want to come. She said that if you wanted to see her you would ask. I told her that you were being ridiculous, so I came on my own."
Daphne unlocks the door, but doesn't pull it open. She heads into the kitchen, and makes a beeline for the coffee pot. She stands behind the safety of her counter.
"You can come in, the door is unlocked."
Kathryn pushes the door open. She enters the apartment, closing, and locking the door behind her.
"Are you worried someone is going to kidnap us at seven o'clock in the morning?"
"I just don't know how safe the neighborhood is."
Daphne turns around, and looks at her, "Aside from the next door neighbors who have knock down drag outs, there is no unrest."
"Who are they having knock down drag outs with?"
"Each other," Daphne answers.
"Oh."
Daphne points to the barstool sitting by the counter in front of her, "You can sit down."
"I know that I should have called, but by the time I decided that I was coming, I was already at the airport."
"It's ok. I'm glad you came."
"I've missed you."
"Do you want some coffee?" Daphne questions standing behind the counter.
"Sure."
Daphne pours a cup of coffee, and hands it to her.
"So how are you doing?"
"Fine. The culinary program is amazing. I've learned so much."
"Good," Kathryn grips her coffee mug.
"Do you want me to fix you something to eat?"
"No, I'm not hungry."
"So what are your plans for the day?"
"I am supposed to work later," Daphne admits.
"At a restaurant right?"
"Yeah."
"Daphne if you want to come home you can. You don't have to stay."
Daphne comes out from behind the counter. She looks at Kathryn, but says nothing.
Kathryn's eyes drift from her coffee cup to Daphne. She stares at her stomach. She swallows hard.
"Well that answers that question."
"I am sorry," Daphne apologizes, "I know it was hard for everyone, when I said I didn't want you to visit, but..."
"I guess I just assumed that you coming to Italy meant there wasn't a baby anymore."
"I know."
"That is what you wanted us to assume?"
Daphne nods.
"Oh."