The Debra Dilemma (The Lone Stars Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page B

needed was to crawl back in bed and stay there until tomorrow.
    “Really, I’m good. How about tomorrow?” Debra glanced down at her dirty sleep shirt. Apparently she’d used the hem last night to mop some of her tears. It was a little crusty and rumpled.
    “Too bad.” Sweet Louise shook her head. “I’m not leaving. You need a friend and I’m staying. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”
    It was both annoying and comforting. Debra had never had a female friend before, or for that matter, very many male friends.
    “I brought hot chocolate and croissants.” Sweet Louise stepped inside and looked around. “You don’t have a Christmas tree or any decorations.”
    “I hate Christmas.” Debra didn’t have it in her to sugar coat anything…not today. “Next to me, Scrooge looks all warm and fuzzy.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. Christmas is a fantastic magical time of the year.” The older woman’s eyes zeroed in on the coffee table. “Looks like your cleaning lady ran away from home.”
    Debra scanned the room. It was a mess. Pictures she’d taken from her photo album were strewn all over the coffee table and the clothes she’d worn yesterday were in a heap on the floor. A Whataburger bag was on the floor in front of her red leather sofa and the matching drink cup was on the coffee table.
    “I’ve never seen your condo anything but spotless.” Sweet Louise dropped the sack and drink holder on the coffee table. “It must be bad.”
    Her eyes locked on to a photo. She picked it up to get a better look. “You had a baby?”
    Debra knew the photo that Sweet Louise was holding. It was of her in a hospital gown and sitting up in a hospital bed. A white blood pressure cuff circled her upper right arm. She was holding her baby boy, swaddled tightly in the aqua blue blanket that she’d knitted for him. In the picture he looked so peaceful. There was a cobalt blue knit cap on his head. He was tiny and sweet and if she hadn’t been in the picture and known the truth she would have thought this was the perfect new mother photo.
    “What happened to him?” Sweet Louise put her arm around Debra.
    She opened her mouth to tell Sweet Louise, but the words got stuck in her throat. She glanced down at the picture Sweet Louise still held and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into that day and hold her sweet baby boy just one more time.
    Debra could feel all of the blood draining from her face.
    “Let’s get you to the sofa.” Sweet Louise walked her to the sofa and gently settled her back against the cushions.
    Debra touched the picture. She took it and traced her son’s perfect, tiny blue lips.
    “He died.” Debra’s voice was small and raspy. A sob burst out of her and then the tears started up again. “He’s dead in this picture. I know it’s morbid, but I wanted a picture of him. He had a neural tube defect that caused a five-centimeter hole in the top of his skull. He died during childbirth.”
    With the cap on, he’d looked so normal. She’d carried him to term, loved him enough to make up for his missing father, and had lost him one minute after he’d been born. He was her angel baby.
    “Sweet Jesus.” Sweet Louise pulled her into a hug. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
    Not since her Aunt June had held her and let her cry on her shoulder had Debra felt so connected to another human being.
    “Would you like for me to take you to visit his grave?” Sweet Louise sniffed and based on her breathing, Debra could tell that the older lady was crying.
    “He doesn’t have one.” There were so many things she felt guilty about, and that one was right up there with the certain knowledge that she should have been more careful during her pregnancy. Everyone had told her that it wasn’t her fault, but who else was to blame? She’d tried blaming Warren, but his part in the making of baby AJ had taken all of five minutes—her part had taken nine months. “I donated his body.”
    Debra