The Dark Elf’s Secret Baby (Secret Babies For Prothekan Dark Elves Book 1)
The Dark Elf’s Secret Baby: Chapter 13

“Don’t push Addie!” I call out, watching my son run through the surf with his best friend. I can’t believe how fast he’s grown. It seems like only yesterday I was sitting in my family’s cabin on Tlouz replaceing out I was pregnant.

Now he’s nearly two and a half. He’s become the light of my life.

“Jasper Kerym Whitlock!” I shout. He’s pushing Adelaide again and I stand, worried that he’s going to knock her over. He may be the light of my life but he’s also a tiny terror when he wants to be.

“Don’t worry,” Harper says, leaning over in her seat. “Addie can take it.” Adelaide is his best friend from school. Her mom, Harper, had just had her when I arrived and was so friendly and helpful to me in dealing with everything with my pregnancy.

Adelaide grabs Jasper by the hand and shows him the shell she was looking at and he seems to calm down a little.

Zerva is just so different from Tlouz, from the mining camps. It’s so warm and tropical here. There’s palm trees and sand and we’re surrounded by water. It feels like I’m living a dream being here. I was worried when I first arrived that it would be just as hard as before but it’s turned out to be nothing like I imagined.

The island is home to a variety of races, including some orc refugees. Mostly people come here to get away from something or settle somewhere more accepting. It’s also a haven for those of us with more difficult circumstances, like Harper and I, single moms with children. The sick and elderly come here for relief from the harsher working conditions, and there are a few mixed-race marriages.

The picnic basket is sitting between us and I reach in and grab a molusket cake. “How is Addie doing with her letters?” I ask.

“She’s doing better!” Harper grins. “She’s so smart! I can’t believe how smart our kids are. They’re easily the smartest of the whole class.”

The two of them attend one of the island schools for the younger children, learning letters and numbers and such while we work during the day. “Yeah, they are very smart babies.” I agree, taking a bite of the molusket cake.

“It’s probably because of Jas’ father, right?” Harper asks. I wince. Harper knows that’s a sore subject for me but she brings it up every once in a while.

“Mama, look!” Jasper comes up to show me the shell that he and Addie were looking at. “Pretty,” he says.

I look it over for him, admiring the iridescent colors that glitter across the white shell. “Very pretty,” I tell him. He seems happy that I approve and runs back to Addie to add to their shell bucket.

“Have you thought about selling your homemade jams at the market yet?” I ask Harper, redirecting her attention away from the topic of Jasper’s father.

It’s not that I haven’t thought about Kerym in all these years. Of course I have. I see him every day in our son’s face. He’s got Kerym’s violet eyes, his long black hair, and his sharp features—even though they’ve been a bit dulled with my genes.

He’s also incredibly intelligent and well spoken for a two-year-old. There’s no denying he’s mixed blood.

“Mama, look!” Jasper calls from down by the shoreline. He focuses his attention on the bucket of shells and they start glowing. “Jas makes the shells glow!”

“You’re so good at it!” I clap for him enthusiastically, even if it pains me to see that side of him come out, to see constant reminders of his father.

“Is his dad skilled at magic, too?” Harper asks slyly. I sigh.

“Harper,” I warn her.

“What?” she asks, feigning innocence. “Don’t you ever think about him, or wish things were different?”

She’s my best friend in the whole world out here and of course she knows everything about Jasper’s parentage, but she also can’t take the hint that I don’t want to think about him if I can help it.

“Of course I do,” I say, trying hard not to snap at her. “I think about him every day. My son is the spitting image of his dad. And yeah, I miss him all the time. But I wouldn’t change anything. This was the best choice for everyone. Besides, Jasper is happy here and that’s all that matters.”

“But you deserve to be happy, too,” she says, turning her attention back to watch Addie and Jas running through the waves now and splashing each other. “You should send him a letter, tell him about his son. I bet he would be so happy to know about Jas.”

“I’m not sending him a letter,” I say, gripping the arm of my chair a little tighter than necessary.

“It’s just sad. You two were so in love…”

“We were never in love. It was purely physical between us. I might have felt something but I don’t think he did in return.”

“Are you sure about that?” Harper pushes. “The way you talk about the two of you together…all the laughter and the happiness. You just deserve to be happy too, Lay. I’m sorry if it’s a sore subject.”

She seems sad and wistful. I wonder if the reason she’s pushing so hard for a big, happy reunion is because of her own feelings about Addie’s father. She’s extremely private about that, even to the point of snapping at people who bring it up.

Maybe she’s pushing her own feelings onto me. I’m not about to ask though. I don’t want to upset her and we’re having such a nice day.

I notice the sun climb higher in the sky and Harper calls Addie in to cover her up in a poncho to protect her from getting burned. Jasper has my skin coloring so all the sun is doing is making both of our skin darker and more tan.

“Mama, snack?” Jasper asks.

“Please,” I correct him.

“Please snack?” he mimics back obediently.

“Yes baby, come here and eat some cheese.” I pull out a few slices from the picnic basket and hand them to him and he munches them while Harper brushes Addie’s blonde hair.

“You never answered my question,” I say, thinking back to the question I’d asked her earlier. Jasper interrupted us before she could respond.

“What, about selling my jams? Nah, I’m probably not going to do that. There are plenty of merchants much better at jam-making than I am. I’ll just keep making them for me and Addie and you and Jas.”

“That’s such a shame,” I say. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You could really make a good side income with your jams. Just think about it.”

Harper brushes my suggestion aside, like she does every time I bring it up, and we go back to watching the kids play. They’re digging in the sand a few feet from us right now, making some kind of sandcastle.

“Hey, Jasper, careful you don’t get sand on Addie!” I stand up, ready to intervene if necessary. Jasper is dumping his sand out of the hole he’s digging right onto Addie’s feet and I’m not sure if she’s going to cry or fuss about it.

“No,” Adelaide pushes the sand off her feet and gives Jasper a stern look. “No sand,” she says. Jasper frowns.

“Sorry,” he says.

Okay, good. Crisis averted. Kids can be funny like that. What bothers them one day might not bother them the next and they can go from zero to a hundred in their temper over the smallest things.

Still, like I told Harper—I wouldn’t trade my time with Kerym for anything because it brought me the little munchkin in front of me.

We continue chatting about everything and nothing while the sun climbs higher in the sky. It’s so warm here and wonderful. I swear, I never realized how cold I was on Tlouz until I moved to Zerva. I love living here, even if I’m far away from my family.

Amara and I send each other letters. She lets me know that Uncle Jethro and Aunt Leandra are doing well and I share stories about Jasper and how he’s doing in school. I don’t tell them about his magic and Amara doesn’t mention anything about Kerym.

It’s an unspoken agreement that we have.

“Mama!” Jasper starts crying and Addie looks guilty. He’s rubbing his eyes and Addie is trying to comfort him. Looks like Addie dumped some sand on him.

“Maybe it’s about time to go home?” Harper asks. When they get tired, they start acting out and it seems about that time for their mid-morning nap.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Come on Jasper. We’re gonna go home for naptime.”

“No, no, no, no,” he whines.

“Yes,” I sing-song back to him. We clean up and I pick him up, knowing that he’ll throw a fit if I let him walk. He’s tired and even though he protested, he’s almost out like a light before we even get halfway home.