Chapter 7: The Deli Reunion
The bell above the door hadn't even finished chiming before Astrid was through it, her palm flat against the small of her back, her belly leading her like a figurehead. The deli smelled of dill and vinegar and something warm, something baked. The shelves stood neat and patient, rows of jars catching the morning light. No customers. No sound but the hum of the cooler and the soft creak of floorboards from deeper in the shop.
Astrid followed that sound past the counter, past the rack of chips and the chalkboard menu someone had half-erased, until she stood in the doorway of the back room.
Dina was there, bent over a cardboard box of empty jars, her dark hair falling across her face. She wore a simple cotton dress, stretched taut across her belly, and her hands paused mid-motion when she looked up. Her eyes went wide, then soft, then something else entirely. Raw. Hungry. A mirror of the ache that had kept Astrid awake half the night.
"You came," Dina breathed.
"I said I would."
Dina straightened slowly, her hand going to her own lower back out of habit. She didn't look away. Neither of them did. The air between them seemed to thicken, heavy with everything spoken into a phone in the dark, everything that had been confessed and praised and gasped out in Shane's bed while his hand rested on Astrid's thigh and his voice murmured encouragement.
The front door rattled. Dina startled, then moved past Astrid with a purpose that made her belly sway. She flipped the lock, pulled the blinds across the glass, and the golden morning light turned to soft amber stripes that fell across the worn countertop. The shop went quiet.
Dina turned around. She walked back until there was barely a hand's width between them, and then she stepped closer still, close enough that the swell of her belly pressed against Astrid's. Warm. Solid. Real in a way a voice on the phone never could be.
"I thought about you all night," Dina whispered. Her hand came up, trembling slightly, and settled on Astrid's hip. "Tell me what you want."
Astrid's throat tightened. Here, in the back room of a pickle shop, with her daughter kicking lazy circles against her ribs and another woman's child pressed against her own, the world had gone strange and bright. She was a lawyer. She built arguments for a living. But all her words had deserted her.
She reached out instead. Her fingers found Dina's cheek, traced the soft curve of it, tilted that face up. Dina's eyes were dark and wet, and her lips parted on a shaky exhale.
"I want to feel you," Astrid said, her voice cracking. "I want to remember what it's like when someone touches me and doesn't treat me like glass."
Dina let out a sound, half laugh, half sob. "God, yes. Yes."
Their mouths met like a dam breaking. It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, open-mouthed, a collision of two women starving for something that wasn't caution and wasn't duty. Dina tasted of coffee and something sweet, and Astrid drank it down, her fingers threading into that dark hair, pulling Dina closer even as their bellies pressed and shifted between them.
Dina's hands found Astrid's waist, then slid upward, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts through the thin cotton of her blouse. Astrid gasped into her mouth and arched, and Dina took the invitation, sliding her palms over the heavy, aching weight of Astrid's tits. They were sore, they'd been sore for weeks, but the pressure of Dina's hands was something else, something that made heat pool low and sharp between Astrid's thighs.
"Your tits are incredible," Dina murmured against her jaw, her lips trailing down to Astrid's neck. "You're so fucking beautiful. All of you."
Astrid let her head fall back against the doorframe. "Dina. Please."
"Please what?" Dina's fingers found the buttons of Astrid's blouse and worked them free one by one. "Tell me. I want to hear you say it."
"I want your mouth on me." Astrid's voice came out raw, shameless. "I want you to touch my cunt. I've been so fucking wet since last night, thinking about this. About you."
Dina made a low, desperate noise and dropped to her knees. Not a graceful descent, her belly made sure of that, but she got there, her hands running up Astrid's thighs, pushing the fabric of her skirt up, up, until it bunched around Astrid's hips. Astrid's maternity panties were plain cotton, functional, and Dina looked at them like they were the most precious thing she'd ever seen.
She hooked her thumbs under the elastic and dragged them down. Astrid stepped out of them, one leg, then the other, her bare thighs trembling.
Dina looked up at her. "You're so wet. Look at you."
Astrid swore, a filthy word that hung in the quiet air, and Dina smiled before she lowered her mouth to Astrid's cunt. The first stroke of her tongue was broad and flat, dragging through the slick heat of her folds, and Astrid's knees buckled. She caught herself on the shelf beside her, jars rattling, her hips bucking forward into Dina's eager mouth.
Dina ate her like she was starving. Her tongue found Astrid's clit and circled it, lapped at it, sucked it between her lips, and Astrid saw stars. She bit her own fist to keep from screaming, because this was the deli, even with the blinds drawn, and Dina's husband might walk in at any moment. But Dina didn't seem to care. She was moaning against Astrid's flesh, her hands gripping Astrid's ass, pulling her closer, and Astrid could feel Dina's own need pressing against her shin, the heat of her through her dress.
"Oh, fuck. Fuck, Dina. I'm going to come." Astrid's voice was wrecked, a whimper threading through the words.
Dina doubled down, her tongue flicking fast and merciless across Astrid's clit, one hand sliding between Astrid's thighs from behind, a finger pressing into her entrance, sinking in, curving. Astrid sobbed. Her whole body seized, her spine bowing, her belly pressing against the top of Dina's head as the orgasm tore through her, white-hot and blinding. She came harder than she had in months, her thighs clamping around Dina's head, her cunt clenching around that invading finger, and she heard herself cry out, a wordless noise of pure release.
Dina worked her through it until Astrid sagged, shaking, against the shelf. Jars rattled again. Something clinked and rolled but neither of them cared.
Dina pulled back, her chin slick, her lips swollen, and looked up at Astrid with a gaze that burned. "Now you," Astrid managed, reaching down, catching Dina's hand and pulling her up. Dina rose awkwardly, her belly leading, and Astrid turned her, pressing her against the same shelf.
"You want me to say it first?" Astrid whispered into Dina's ear, her hand sliding up the inside of Dina's thigh, beneath the hem of that cotton dress. "Tell me how much you need this."
Dina whimpered. "I need it. I need you. Please, Astrid, touch me. I'm so fucking swollen, I've been aching all night, and my own husband won't even look at me."
Astrid's fingers found Dina's cunt, wet through the fabric of her underwear, and she pressed her palm against it, grinding slow. "Then let me take care of you," she said. "Let me remember what it feels like to be wanted exactly like this."
Dina's breath hitched as Astrid's fingers found her center through the damp cotton of her underwear. Her hips pushed forward instinctively, seeking more pressure, and she let out a sound that was almost a sob.
"Yes. Fuck, yes. Please don't stop."
Astrid didn't stop. She hooked her fingers under the elastic of Dina's underwear and pulled them down, watching as they slid past Dina's swollen belly and fell to the floor in a crumpled heap between them. Dina stepped out of them without being asked, spreading her legs as wide as her pregnant body would allow, and Astrid looked down at the sight of her. Dark curls, slick and glistening. The wet evidence of a night spent aching and wanting.
"You're so beautiful like this," Astrid whispered, and she meant it. There was something raw about Dina's body, the heavy weight of her tits beneath the cotton dress, the tight drum of her belly, the way her thighs trembled with the effort of standing. She was a woman on the edge of something enormous, and she was offering herself up without reservation.
Astrid slid her fingers through Dina's folds, gathering the wetness, spreading it up to her clit. Dina cried out and gripped the shelf behind her, knuckles going white. Her belly pressed against Astrid's as Astrid stepped closer, boxing Dina in against the wooden shelf, and the contact made both of them gasp.
"Look at me," Astrid said. "I want you to watch me touch you."
Dina's eyes found hers, dark and glassy with want. Astrid pressed her thumb against Dina's clit and began to circle it slow, deliberate, while her middle finger sank into Dina's entrance. Dina's cunt was hot and gripping, tight with disuse, and she whimpered when Astrid pushed deeper.
"Fuck. It's been so long. Leo won't even kiss me. He's scared of hurting the baby, or something. He treats me like I'm broken."
"Nothing about you is broken." Astrid worked her finger in and out, adding a second one, stretching Dina carefully. "You're full of life. You're making a whole human. And you're so fucking wet for me, Dina. You're not broken."
Dina's head fell back against the shelf with a thunk. Her hips rolled against Astrid's hand, chasing the rhythm, and her moans came faster, higher. The jars around them rattled with every thrust of Astrid's fingers.
"More," Dina gasped. "Please, more. I need to feel you inside me. I need to come so bad I can't think straight."
Astrid sank to her knees. It wasn't graceful. Her own belly made it awkward, and she had to brace a hand on the shelf to lower herself down. But she got there, her face level with Dina's cunt, and she looked up at the woman above her, at the heaving breath and the flushed cheeks, and she smiled.
"Hold onto me."
Dina's hands found Astrid's shoulders, gripping tight. And then Astrid lowered her mouth to Dina's cunt and began to eat her with the same desperate hunger Dina had shown her minutes before. She licked up through the slick folds, found Dina's clit, and sucked it between her lips, tongue flicking fast. Dina's thighs closed around Astrid's head, trapping her there, and Astrid groaned against her flesh at the pressure.
"Oh god. Oh god." Dina's voice was a wrecked chant. "That's it. That's exactly it. Keep going. Keep your tongue right there. Fuck, I'm going to come, I'm going to come so hard."
Astrid doubled down, curling her fingers up inside Dina and pressing against the front wall of her cunt, stroking in time with the flick of her tongue. Dina came apart. Her whole body seized, her hips grinding against Astrid's face, a long guttural cry tearing from her throat that she tried to swallow and failed. She clamped down on Astrid's hand, her inner walls pulsing, and Astrid rode her through it until Dina's legs gave out and she sagged against the shelf, panting and shaking.
Astrid pulled back, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she rose awkwardly to her feet. Dina reached for her, pulling her close, pressing their sweaty foreheads together. Their bellies pressed firm and warm, and somewhere between them, a kick rippled across Dina's stomach.
"She can feel it," Dina whispered, her voice hoarse. Her hand found Astrid's and pressed it against the spot. "She can feel how much her mama wanted this."
They stood there for a long moment, breathing together, the golden light striping across them through the blinds. Astrid's hand stayed pressed to Dina's belly, and she felt another kick, weaker, more distant. Her own daughter stirred in response, a flutter deep in her gut.
"It's not just the sex," Astrid found herself saying. "I've never told anyone this, but... I've been so lonely, Dina. I love Shane more than anything. He's everything to me. But I've been so fucking lonely in this body. Like it belongs to someone else. Like I'm just the packaging for the real thing inside."
Dina's eyes grew wet. "I know. God, I know exactly what you mean."
Their mouths met again, softer this time. A promise. A comfort. Astrid pulled back, and the phone on the counter rang, shrill and sudden, shattering the silence between them.
Dina blinked. The real world came creeping back in, the deli, the shelves, the morning. She looked at the front door, at the blinds she'd pulled, and a flush crept up her neck. "I should. That's probably the supplier."
Astrid nodded, stepping back to give her room. She smoothed her skirt down over her belly, feeling the damp patch on her panties she'd stepped out of lying on the floor. She bent awkwardly to retrieve them, balling them up in her fist.
"Go answer it," she said. "I'll put on some tea."
Dina walked to the counter, adjusting her dress, and picked up the phone. "Marchetti's Deli," she said, and her voice was only slightly uneven. "Yes, this is Dina." She turned her back to answer whatever question followed.
Astrid leaned against the counter, catching her breath, her daughter kicking a slow rhythm against her ribs. She didn't know what this was, what she and Dina were building. But she knew she wasn't lonely anymore.
The phone conversation lasted only a minute. Dina hung up, turned back, and her eyes found Astrid's immediately, as if pulled by a thread. "Supplier. They're running late. I told them to leave the order by the back door."
"Good," Astrid said. She had found the kettle and was filling it at the small sink in the corner of the back room, her movements slow and deliberate. "That gives us more time."
Dina watched her for a long moment, then crossed the room and took the kettle from her hands, setting it down on the counter. "Forget the tea."
Astrid's breath caught. Dina was close again, close enough that the familiar pressure of belly against belly returned, warm and grounding. But this time Dina didn't move to kiss her. She just stood there, her eyes searching Astrid's face, her hands hanging at her sides like she was afraid to reach out.
"I meant what I said last night," Dina said quietly. "On the phone. About no one making me feel the way you do. But this... this isn't just about sex for me, Astrid. I need you to know that."
"I know." Astrid's voice came out soft. "It's not just sex for me either."
They stood in the quiet of the back room, the golden light from the blinds striping across the floor, the scent of brine and herbs wrapping around them like a blanket. The intensity of what they had just done still hung in the air, but something else was settling into its place now, something quieter and just as terrifying.
Astrid looked at Dina, at the flush still high on her cheeks, at the way her hand rested on the curve of her belly, and she felt her heart crack open a little wider. This woman understood her. This woman saw her, not as a lawyer or a wife or a soon-to-be mother, but as herself, messy and lonely and hungry for connection.
She reached for Dina's hand. Not the way she had at the apartment, where their fingers had brushed over a bowl of pretzels and lingered with unspoken intent. This was deliberate. Intentional. Her fingers found Dina's and wove between them, palm to palm, skin to skin, and she held on.
Dina looked down at their joined hands. Her throat worked. When she looked back up, her eyes were wet.
"I kept touching my hand all night," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "The spot where you touched me at dinner. I kept rubbing my thumb over it, trying to feel you there."
Astrid's grip tightened. "I did the same. I told Shane I had a cramp in my hand. He knew I was lying. He just smiled and kissed my forehead."
A laugh escaped Dina, watery and surprised. "He's something else, isn't he?"
"He's everything." Astrid said it simply, without hesitation. "But he's not you, Dina. He can't be. He doesn't know what it feels like to carry a child. To watch your body change into something you don't recognize. To be so full of love and life and still feel so completely alone."
Dina's free hand came up to rest on Astrid's belly, warm and gentle. "You're not alone anymore."
Astrid felt the tears prick her eyes. She blinked them back, but one escaped, trailing down her cheek. Dina caught it with her thumb, a tender gesture that made Astrid's chest ache.
"I'm scared," Astrid admitted. "I'm scared of what this means. I'm scared of what I feel when I'm with you. I'm scared of labor and of becoming a mother and of losing myself entirely in someone else."
"You won't lose yourself." Dina's voice was fierce. "You're too stubborn for that. I can tell."
Astrid laughed, a wet sound. "You're right. I am."
"And I'm scared too." Dina's hand was still on Astrid's belly, and she could feel the faint movement of the baby inside, a flutter of life. "I'm scared that Leo will never look at me the way Shane looks at you. I'm scared that I'll spend the rest of my life feeling like I'm just a mother, just a wife, just someone's responsibility instead of someone's desire."
"Leo's an idiot," Astrid said.
Dina's lips twitched. "He's not an idiot. He's just... cautious. He loves me. I know he does. He just doesn't know how to show it anymore."
"Then teach him." Astrid squeezed Dina's hand. "Like I said at dinner. Tell him what you need. Don't wait for him to guess."
Dina nodded, but her eyes stayed on Astrid's, a question lingering in their depths. "And what about this? What about us?"
Astrid's heart hammered. She had been asking herself the same question since the phone call last night, since the moment she had hung up and rolled into Shane's arms with her body still humming and her mind spinning. He had held her, stroked her hair, and told her that whatever she needed, whatever she and Dina were building, he would support.
"I don't know what this is," Astrid said honestly. "I don't know what to call it. But I know I don't want to stop feeling this. I know I don't want to lose you, Dina. Not when I've just found you."
Dina's breath shuddered out of her. She stepped closer, her belly pressing against Astrid's again, and she let her forehead rest against Astrid's. Their joined hands stayed between them, caught in the warm space where their children grew.
"Then we don't stop," Dina whispered. "We figure it out as we go. Together."
Astrid closed her eyes. She breathed in Dina's scent, coffee and something floral, and she felt her daughter kick a slow, lazy rhythm against her ribs, as if she approved. She had never been more terrified in her life. And she had never felt less alone.
"Together," she repeated, and she held on to Dina's hand like a lifeline, like a promise, like the beginning of something she hadn't known she needed until it was already here.