“Hand over the baby and nobody gets hurt,” Grace said, pushing by Kristine.
“She’s asleep.”
Grace Warren turned her Administrative Director glare on Kristine and hung her black MYCRA PAC slicker by the door. She wore her shoulder-length curly red hair in an attractive French roll in an attempt to tame the mass it became with the coastal dampness. She looked every inch the professional in her standby plum Elie Tahari suit.
“Right. One sleeping baby coming up. Wash your hands.”
They met back at the couch, Grace’s clean hands extended for the days-old baby. Grace sank back into the couch, nestling Kristine’s newcomer to her chest. She closed her eyes and breathed in the first peace she’d felt all day. “No Caemon?”
“He’s on an outing with his Grandpa.”
“I got the baby if you want some wife time.”
“Gloria’s asleep too. Sleep when the baby sleeps, you know?”
“I think it would be better if you went to feed your horse, and I held the baby.”
“It was that bad?” Kristine asked, worry in her voice.
“Have you not seen my feet?” Grace waggled her beige suede Stuart Weizman pumps that would never be the same. At five eight, she did not need the added height, but she knew part of her authority came from her stature and she exploited it to its fullest.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. You’re lucky they weren’t my favorite.”
“I’ve got some saddle soap. I could clean them up for you.”
“Like you don’t have your hands full. How’s she sleeping?”
“Okay. She goes about two hours, but I try to hold her off for a while, let Gloria get in another hour before she nurses.”
“So. What? You’re out here walking the halls?”
“She likes the bouncy ball,” Kristine said, pointing to the exercise ball in the corner.
“If she’s hungry, why not just feed her?”
“She’s not really hungry, so she just nurses a minute and falls back asleep. If she goes longer, she really eats. Then we can both sleep longer. If Caemon’s not up.”
“You’ve got the life, sister.”
Kristine curled her feet up underneath her and rested her head on the back of the couch. “Was it just your shoes?”
“Your horse also provided me with a shower. We had a misunderstanding about how the green stuff was supposed to go in his stall, not all over me.”
“You didn’t open the door to put it in?”
“Have you seen how big that thing is? I thought it was safer to chuck the hay over the door. His face wasn’t there when I threw it, but then suddenly it was coming right back at me.” Kristine laughed, and Grace slapped her. “The one across the aisle is much more civilized. And you said that your friend will be back tomorrow to take over?”
“Yes. When we made the plan for me to take care of Taj this weekend while she’s up in Spokane, I thought I had wagons of time till the baby came. You really saved my tush.”
“What did you do yesterday when Gloria was still in the hospital?”
“Yesterday was easy. Gloria had the nurses to take care of her and Eliza. I spent the day with Caemon, and he loves to play at the barn.”
“Any cute single nurses?”
“Not your type.”
“You don’t know my type.”
“I assume your type isn’t male.”
Grace laughed. “You got me there. Well, I was happy to help, but I’m off the hook tomorrow?”
Kristine’s face fell.
“What?”
“I just realized I don’t have Robyn’s number. I should have had you leave a note for her with my number. Baby brain,” Kristine apologized.
“Don’t worry about it. As long as I don’t have to muck, it’s not that big of a deal.” Grace brushed the soft down of Eliza’s brown hair with her lips, drinking in her baby smell. Wrapped in a luxurious yellow velour blanket, Eliza radiated warmth that soothed Grace’s soul and made the added trials of her day worth it. She looked over at Kristine, who had fallen asleep sitting up.
Grace admired the baby’s delicate eyelashes. Under Grace’s intense stare, Eliza’s eyes fluttered open. “Hello dear one,” she whispered. “Your mommies are sleeping. You don’t mind hanging out with Auntie Grace, do you?” Eliza opened her eyes, two wide almonds. Her lips formed a rosebud O. “You’re a lucky girl, you know that? You have the two greatest moms ever and a fantastic big brother. And you’ve got me for fashion advice. That cowgirl thing works for your mama, and your mommy’s got a great relationship with green thanks to her Fish and Game ranger uniform, but there are other things to wear. I’m here for you.”
She chatted with the baby about picking shoes for style rather than comfort and about how there are rules about colors and seasons. The baby listened, focused raptly on the cadence of Grace’s low-pitched voice. Prodding at Eliza’s fist, Grace delighted when tiny fingers wrapped around hers. She marveled at each slender digit and the delicate fingernails. “I’ll make sure your moms get you violin lessons when you’re older, or you can play cello. Lots of people think the violin is more versatile, but I love the cello’s voice.” She told Eliza about her favorite compositions, and by the time Gloria emerged from the bedroom, flushed with her blond hair sleep-rumpled, Grace had moved on to listing the trials of her day.
“Who’s in the doghouse?” Gloria asked, putting one of Kristine’s flannels on over a stretchy tank top.
“Ceramics. I had them set to show in Old Town, but now Ferguson isn’t happy with half the pieces his seniors have done.”
“You’ll whip them into shape, I’m sure.”
“That’s right,” Grace said, speaking again to Eliza. “No one messes with me, not if they want a future in art.”
Gloria held her arms out for Eliza. “My boobs say it’s time to eat.”
“Mommy’s playing the boob card. I can’t argue with that, kiddo,” Grace said, handing Eliza over. “You’re back in your pre-pregnancy clothes already?” she noted.
Gloria snapped the waist of her gray yoga pants. “They’re elastic and have a lot of give. A lot. I still feel like a broodmare.” She easily maneuvered the tank top out of the way to let Eliza nurse.
“Broodmares are important,” Kristine mumbled.
“You’re not supposed to agree with me,” Gloria said.
“You’re still sexy. Grace, isn’t my wife sexy?”
“I am so not answering that,” Grace said, pointedly not watching her nurse. “I thought you were out cold.”
“I got scared that if I opened my eyes, you’d get on me about the prints I owe you. The only other person as persistent as you is Gloria’s mom, and once I smartened up and took the teaching job here…”
“Smartened up and chose true love over your career,” Gloria inserted.
“As I was saying, when I chose Gloria over a promising career in nature photography, my now mother-in-law eased up on her demands for new prints.”
“I cut new moms some slack.” Grace perched on the edge of the couch, knowing she should go but was enjoying their banter too much. She’d had her baby fix and should leave the couple to their quiet evening, but she couldn’t make herself stand. The couple never made her feel like the third wheel, always welcoming her into their home.
She’d accepted their hospitality, and then their friendship. From the moment Grace had joined the staff at Humboldt State, Kristine had pulled her into their circle. As colleagues they worked well together, and when Grace spent time with them it was easy for her to picture finding someone who could fit with her the way Kristine and Gloria naturally fit each other.
She adored their boy Caemon and lived vicariously through them. She’d never been interested in having her own family—she knew she didn’t have the patience for it—but she found that she really enjoyed the toddler. It felt like a gift to be able to stop by to take him on a walk, and his moms always seemed happy to hand him over in hour-long increments.
They had become her family, but she couldn’t help envying their partnership. She wanted to feel the peace of Kristine and Gloria’s home. Their space had a settled quality, even with kid stuff scattered all about. Grace was seeking what they had found.
Even when she was comfortable, she heard a voice in the back of her head that continuously urged her to keep busy. It reminded her that she still had to cook dinner and that she ought to stop by the store to pick up more bread for breakfast. Once the list started, she couldn’t stop it. She pushed to her feet.
“You have to go?” Kristine asked, opening one eye.
“I can’t take the smell of these shoes any longer. I promise to give you space to settle in, but Kristine, I’ll see you in a week.”
Kristine groaned. “Don’t even talk about next week.”
“I control many things but do not recall you ever asking for my advice about whether to have another baby in the middle of the fall semester.”
“Thanks for your help, Grace,” Gloria said, moving the baby to her shoulder for a burp.
“Anytime,” Grace said. She was happy to be able to offer help so easily, but at the same time, being able to do so made her aware of how empty her own life was.