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Baby On Her Doorstep
Baby On Her Doorstep

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Baby On Her Doorstep

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“Having three children myself, I feel her pain.” Camelia slid the remaining beans into her pot and stood.

“You have three children?”

Camelia laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. I had a life before we moved here, ya know.”

“I suppose you did.” Laura didn’t want the milk to stick and so continued to stir.

“We both did.” She washed the beans. “I know we didn’t get off to a good start. How about we share how we both ended up here?” Her hand sloshed the beans and water about.

Laura poured the warm milk into two mugs. “My story is rather boring.” Did she want to tell the Irishwoman of her past? Would the older woman think less of her?

“Mayhaps, but from where I come from, storytelling, whether good or bad, is always interesting. Of course, if it is painful or you wish to keep your privacy, that is all right, too.”

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