Forged In Fire
"We'll take this one."
For the next forty-five minutes, Mama worked her way through the boutique with the determination of a general planning a military campaign. She selected silk robes, lace teddies, matching bra and panty sets in colors I'd never worn in my life—emerald green, sapphire blue, champagne gold.
"This one," she said, holding up a sheer black bodysuit with strategic cutouts, "is excellent for flexibility. Very important when you're trying to conceive."
I closed my eyes. "Please stop talking."
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