Chapter 18

There were things to do. People to call. Details to arrange. Over the next couple of weeks, Sarah moved through them all in a state of numb shock.

If she stopped moving, feelings caught up with her, overwhelmed her, and if she let them loose, if she started crying, she’d never stop. All she knew was that the center of her life was gone.

Violet and Miranda and Christine and Beth surrounded her with loving kindness even though she couldn’t seem to thank them. And Rob was there every time she turned around, lacing through the empty, busy days and evenings with his calm good sense and dependability. Casey was at her side twenty-four seven, and Fred jumped in her lap every time she sat, offering furry feline comfort.

None of it helped.

Christine pushed her into a chair at the kitchen table. “You haven’t eaten anything all day,” she said, and put a bowl of soup in front of her.

It was Hilda’s favorite vegetable soup, and Sarah’s tears mixed with the steam. Obediently, she picked up the spoon and ate. “Thank you, Christine.”

Christine.

The thought was like swimming up from an abyss. Sarah raised her head and looked at the girl. Still big as a house. “Wasn’t that baby due by now?”

“Last week. But the doctor says first babies are always late. Usually.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yep. Healthy as a horse. And it’s going to be soon. I’m sure.” Christine waddled out of the room, moving as fast as she could.

Sarah heard her thump down the hall, heard her say, “She noticed that I hadn’t had the baby! She’s gonna be all right.”

“Of course she is.” That was Violet.

“Thank goodness.” That was Beth. “She’s so strong. I hate to see her like this.”

Silly Beth. Sarah didn’t feel strong at all.

And then Miranda’s voice. “She’s never been anything but all right.”

Miranda said that about her? Miranda used to hate her.

“Now hush,” Miranda added. “She’ll hear us.”

Had she been that out of it? Apparently so. She looked around the kitchen. She’d never see her mother in the familiar room again. The thought sent a spear of pain lancing through her.

This was why she’d stayed in that fog of numbness. The others might be happy that she was back, but she didn’t want to be.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, she wandered through the house, through her feelings, like one just returning from a long vacation. All the familiar old things looked strange. Everything she saw, everything she touched, reminded her that her mother was gone.

Late that night, she slipped out to the front porch. The faint creak of the swing warned her that she wasn’t alone.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Rob said from the shadows.

“Restless,” she admitted.

“Come sit here.” He reached out a hand and pulled her down onto the swing. “This’ll help.” He offered her his glass.

She took it and sipped. “Oof. Wow.” The aged bourbon went down like a slug of brimstone and made her feel like she exhaled flames. “What are you doing out here?”

“Watching the night. Thinking. Wanted to be sure you were sleeping before I left.”

“You all have been so good to me. I don’t think I’d have gotten through the last couple of weeks without you.”

“It’s a rough time.”

She captured his glass for another mouthful of relaxation.

“The funeral was hard.”

“You survived it.”

“With help. Your mother and Miranda were wonderful. And I know that they had to be hurting as much as I was. As I do.”

“It’s not a contest, Sarah. Mum always used to tell me that life was funny because shared joy doubled, but shared sorrow got lighter.”

“I guess.” The evening was too nice for arguments, but was her sorrow really all that much lighter? Maybe so. She pushed her foot against to worn floorboards and set the swing to moving.

“That was beautiful, when you put the roses on the casket at the funeral,” Rob said.

“They were her favorites, the Damasks. The wallpaper in her room has them too. She loved them best of all the ones in her garden.” An isolated memory of the funeral rose in her mind. “Poor Homer. Did you see the roses he sent? Modern tea roses for my mother. She couldn’t stand them.”

“Yeah, but he cared about her, and he showed it. He did his best.”

“She was the best. The best mother and the best friend. I wanted to do more for her.”

“She was a wonderful mother, and you did everything you could for her, Sarah.”

She took another sip from his glass, but it turned into a gulp.

“Whoa. You’re getting a little carried away there.” Rob retrieved the glass and set it out of her reach.

Heat burned down her throat clear to her toes, and somehow loosened the lump of guilt she’d been carrying for so long. “I was so mean to her.” It came out as a wail.

“You were the best daughter in the world,” Rob assured her. “No one else could ever do, ever has done, as much for a parent.”

“I yelled at her. I told her she needed to concentrate. I was mad at her for getting old.” The tears that she’d been swallowing for weeks burst out of control.

“Sarah, Sarah.” Rob pulled her against his chest.

She cried until there were no more tears, but the sorrow wasn’t assuaged. “And then in the end, I ki—ki—killed her,” she wailed.

Rob handed her his handkerchief. “Oh, Sarah, baby. You didn’t kill her. You made her last days as good as they could be. Don’t remember the pain. Remember how happy she was when you brought her home?”

She sat back and blew her nose. “She would have lived longer if she’d stayed in the hospital.”

“She was miserable and suffering. And she wasn’t getting better. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Dr. Burgess thinks it’s wrong.”

“None of the nurses or other doctors agreed. Sarah.” He gripped her shoulders and held her away from him and looked her straight in the eyes. “You didn’t kill her. You didn’t shoot her or stab her or give her an overdose. You let the inevitable happen without making her suffer. That’s not wrong.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Sarah hiccupped. “She smiled when Fred curled up beside her. She rubbed Christine’s tummy and said she wanted to see the baby.” The thought brought a fresh round of tears. “She didn’t get to. She never got to know if it’s a boy or girl.”

“She’ll know.”

The simple faith in Rob’s voice warmed her more than the bourbon had done.

****

Rob eased into a chair in the conservatory and set his glass of whiskey on the table beside him. The thick tumbler clinked against the glass table top and he made an involuntary movement to silence it.

He didn’t want to leave until he was sure Sarah had gone to bed, if not to sleep. Leaving her to deal with her grief was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do.

This late-night vigil had become a habit in the two weeks since Hilda had died, and it didn’t seem like nearly enough. Christmas had come and gone without getting any attention. He wondered if Sarah would ever enjoy the holiday again.

The snowy yard lay cold and unearthly in the bluish moonlight, pretty much matching his feelings. Sarah liked him and she depended on him, but she’d rejected any closer relationship. He took a sip of the whiskey, letting it burn all the way down, but it didn’t ease the hurt. So he was a guy and guys weren’t supposed to do relationships, but he wasn’t a young stud anymore and coming home to Sarah sounded pretty damn good.

A soft scuffle of footsteps in the hall brought him to his feet. Sarah?

“What are you doing down here in the dark?”

He held up the glass. “Just a nightcap, Mum. What are you doing up?”

“I didn’t hear your car leave.”

“Ah. Come join me?”

“I’ll just sit for a minute.” She came in and perched on a chair. “What a lovely evening. But moonlight always seems so lonely.”

Rob sat back down. “I was thinking the same thing.”

His mother was silent for a few minutes before she said, “You’re in love with Sarah, aren’t you?”

The mouthful of whiskey he’d just taken sputtered away with his explosive exhale. “What makes you say that?”

“The way you look at her, and that’s not an answer.”

Amused in spite of himself, Rob said, “You haven’t used that stern voice on me since I was in high school.”

“I haven’t needed to.” She peered through the dim light at him and cut to the chase. “So what are you going to do about Sarah?”

He gave up. “Dunno. I can’t exactly press the issue right now.”

“Hmph. Well, I suppose not. But I’ve been watching you dance around her ever since I moved in here, and I’d have to say that she thinks pretty highly of you.”

“As a friend.”

“And more.”

“Mum. Enough. Some things aren’t—”

“Any of my business. I know.” She giggled, that ditzy giggle that his father had loved so much. “But Sarah’s so much nicer than that girl from Dockside that you were running around with.”

“I didn’t know you knew about her.”

“Oh, yes, dear. That was why I was so interested in renting that room over the tavern. I wanted to meet her. Well, after all, you’re getting on and if you’re interested in a woman, it’s only right that I should have a chance to get to know her and...”

She chattered on, leaving Rob torn between irritation and embarrassment. That Dockside woman wasn’t exactly someone you brought home to meet your mother. Fun though, he thought with a certain nostalgia. But once Sarah came on the scene, he hadn’t had any interest in anyone but a certain accountant who didn’t seem to recognize that he was ready and willing. More than ready and willing.

“Well, never mind, dear. I’m sure things will work out for you and Sarah. Since you both have households, there won’t be any need for a shower, but I’m sure Miranda and I can help her plan a lovely summer wedding and—”

That was too much. “For God’s sake, Mother, will you stop?” Rob said, trying to keep his voice down. “Sarah hasn’t shown any interest in me. Don’t you think planning a wedding is maybe a tiny bit premature?”

“Oh, not at all. Poor Rob.” She patted his hand. “You’re a good boy. Just be patient. Sarah’s been a little distracted, but soon she’ll realize just how wonderful you are. Now I’m off to bed.” She stood, wobbling a little, and he jumped up to steady her. “Oh, thank you, dear. Good night now.”

Rob stood in the door and watched her totter off toward the stairs. She moved stiffly, like an old woman. She was an old woman, he realized with a faint sense of shock. He’d gotten so used to thinking of her as a permanent part of his life that he hadn’t been thinking. Now it struck him.

Hilda had been the same age as his mother.

****

“Sarah! Sarah!” Violet rushed into the office. “Oh, Sarah, come quick!”

Sarah dropped the papers she was working on and bolted up from the desk. “What is it?”

“Christine! Christine! She’s having the baby. Do something!” Violet stood in the middle of the floor wringing her hands and looking pleadingly at Sarah.

“Relax, Violet. First babies always take a long time.” She hoped. “Where is she?”

“Kitchen. She’s in the kitchen.”

Sarah trotted out of the room just as Miranda emerged from the elevator.

“What is all the shouting about? I was trying to nap.”

Sarah left her to Violet’s confused explanations and went in search of Christine, who was indeed in the kitchen, on her hands and knees, mopping up a puddle.

“Your water broke?” Sarah asked.

Christine tried to smile, but it was a thin imitation of her usual wide grin. “I guess so. I’d better go call the midwife.”

“I’ll do that,” Violet said.

“Ohmygod.” Beth bounced through the door and stopped when she realized what was happening.

“Scared, honey?” Sarah drew Christine to her feet. “You go change. I’ll finish this.”

“Thanks. And yeah. I’m scared. A little. A lot. I’m gonna be a mom, Sarah. And I don’t know how.”

“Christine.” Sarah gave her a fierce look. “You are a kind, loving person. You have a great deal of common sense. As far as I can tell, you have read every book ever written on raising a child. I don’t think you have anything to be scared of.”

“Yeah, I know all this stuff, but it’s just book stuff. I don’t know how moms should act in real life. The only parent I’ve ever seen up close is my stepfather and that’s not exactly any help.” Christine stiffened and grabbed the back of a chair.

“First pain, huh?”

After a moment, Christine relaxed and nodded. “I think we need the midwife,” she said.

“She’s on her way,” Violet reported.

Sarah tossed a handful of paper towels at the puddle.

“I can do that,” Beth said, kneeling and grabbing the towels. “I want to help.” She looked up at Sarah. “I want to tell her to love the baby, and believe in her, and...stuff. I guess that’s silly.”

Poor Beth. She needed attention too, and Sarah wished she had the time and energy to look after her, but right now, Christine was more important. “It’s not at all silly. But, you know, I’ll bet she already knows.” She patted Beth’s shoulder and sped down the hall after Christine.

Maddy breezed into the house twenty minutes later, spreading peace and confidence in her wake. “It’s gonna be a while, kiddo,” she said. “What do you want to do? Cards? Television? Whatever. You’re the boss.”

Rob walked into the kitchen in the middle of a spirited poker game.

Christine was in the middle of raking in the pot, a large pile of matches, when she folded over the table and clenched her fists around the edges.

“Hey!” Rob leaped to her side. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s having the baby,” Violet said.

Sarah watched Maddy lead Christine off to her room.

Rob didn’t seem to notice. “Here?” His eyes rolled and he looked ready to bolt. “She can’t have the baby here. We should get to the hospital.”

Sarah snickered. “And I thought nothing scared you. This should not be a surprise. You’ve been hearing about it for the last five months.”

“Yes, but shouldn’t we go to the hospital?”

“Maddy’s a midwife. You will not have to deliver the baby. Okay?”

His expression was relief mixed with worry.

Sarah burst out laughing. “You really were worried about having to play doctor, weren’t you?”

“Well, yeah.” Rob sounded defensive, relieved, and embarrassed all at once. “I’ve delivered babies. Not my idea of a relaxing evening.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Maddy said, returning to the kitchen with Christine in tow. “But it’s going to be a while yet. You can help walk Christine.”

Christine giggled. “You make me sound like a horse.”

Sarah watched her for a moment. She looked as relaxed as a woman could under the circumstances. And happy.

“I’m glad you’re all here,” she said, and blushed as though she’d said something embarrassing. “I wish your mother were here too, Sarah.”

Sarah nodded, too busy dealing with the sudden rush of grief to answer.

“Oh, Sarah, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s all right, honey. We all miss Mama, and it’s better to talk about her than not.” She blotted an escaped tear and smiled at Christine.

Late that night, with Violet and Beth upstairs napping and Miranda taking her turn to coach, Sarah and Rob stood in the kitchen heating water for the tea that Christine had decided she wanted.

“It seems somehow cosmic,” she said. “Death, and then birth. That should be comforting.”

“But it isn’t?”

“Not one bit. Maybe later. Right now I don’t think all the words or all the babies in the world could make me miss Mama less.”

“I can understand that. But something else is bothering you tonight, isn’t it?”

Sometimes she thought Rob could see right through into her heart, as though she were transparent.

“Something about the baby?”

Oh, God. He must be psychic.

“If it would help to talk? You know I’m always here for you.”

She looked around to make sure no one else was within earshot. “I had a baby,” she whispered. “She died.”

“That’s rough. I’m sorry.” Rob’s deep voice held a wealth of sympathy.

“I never told Mama what happened. As far as she knew, it was just a tragic accident. She thought I was crazy to divorce Gary, but she knew that when something like that happens, a couple often can’t get past the loss.”

“Did he blame you?” Rob looked at her in silent compassion.

She took a deep breath. This was something she’d never told anyone. Except the police. Even her mother had never known. “Gary beat me. I went into labor prematurely. The baby was stillborn, and they had to do an emergency hysterectomy.”

She laughed, surprised that after so many years such bitterness still existed. “Of course he blamed me. It was my fault for making him angry.”

“You can’t believe that.”

“Of course not. Neither did the police. They very kindly relieved me of his presence. We were living in Kansas City. I just came home and never told anyone. Mama knew there’d never be any grandchildren, but she didn’t give me any grief about it.”

“My God, Sarah. Of course she wouldn’t. Even without knowing the whole story. She loved you too much to make you feel bad. She was one classy lady.”

She smiled. “Yes, she was. But the whole experience makes this hard. I’m happy for Christine, and envious, and...oh, I don’t know. I’m just a mess right now.”

“Of course you are. I didn’t know you’d ever married. He should have been shot, not jailed.”

His voice was so matter-of-fact that Sarah wondered for an instant if he’d have done the job if only he’d been there at the time.

A tap on the back door announced Hank. “I was just on my way home,” he said. “Thought I’d stop and check on Christine.”

“As if you didn’t do the same thing every night. Come in.”

Rob lifted the kettle and poured steaming water over the dried leaves and flowers.

“Pfew. What the heck is that stuff?” Hank asked.

“Some kind of soothing tea that Maddy brought.”

Hank turned pale. “Maddy? She’s the midwife. You mean she’s here? Oh my God. Don’t just stand there. Do something.”

“Relax, Hank. I don’t know if the tea is for Christine or us, but we might as well take it upstairs.” She led the way back to Christine’s room, ready to do whatever it took, Hank hard on her heels. She paused at the bedroom door. “Uh, Hank, I’m not sure you should go in.”

She was talking to his back as he rushed across the room to Christine’s side. Sarah saw the tender way he took the girl’s hand, the way she looked up at him, and had to swallow a rush of emotion. “Oh,” she murmured. “Well, okay.” It looked like things were settled for Christine.

The baby was a girl.

Christine glanced up from her rapt examination of her daughter, and her face was so radiant that Sarah could scarcely look at her. “Sarah, would you mind very much if I named her Hilda?”

The air rushed from Sarah’s lungs and for a moment she couldn’t speak. “I thought you had decided on Susan,” she said finally.

“I had, but it just seems right. I owe so much to your mother. I won’t if you don’t like it. But if we called her Hilda Sue...” Christine’s voice trailed off. She looked tired and tentative and about twelve years old.

“I’d love it,” Sarah said. “Mama would have been delighted. And so honored.” She bent and touched the baby’s cheek gently. “Hilda Sue. Welcome to the family, little girl.”

Violet clapped, and grabbed for a handkerchief. “That’s so sweet,” she sobbed. “Isn’t she the most beautiful baby, Rob?”

“Uh, yeah.” He drew nearer the bed.

Fascinated in spite of himself, Sarah decided. He was going to be such a sucker for this kid.

“Definitely a beautiful child,” Miranda decreed. “You have done well, Christine. But I don’t understand why you would not let the doctor tell you if it was a boy or girl. I hope you are not too unhappy that you didn’t have a son.”

Christine tore her gaze from Hilda Sue and looked at Miranda. “I was afraid to find out. I didn’t want a boy. I’d have been watching him all the time, looking for traces of Charley, and I didn’t think I could stand it. I’m so glad she’s a girl.” She cuddled the baby closer. “This way, I can believe she’s all mine. Only mine.”

Hank ran a finger across the baby’s cheek but didn’t say anything. His smile said it all without any words.

Sarah exchanged a glance with Rob. “Maybe not,” she whispered, and then frowned. She’d been so wrapped up in her mother that she’d never thought of the problems Christine might face. Eventually Charley was going to get out of jail. What if he came back? Well, it looked like Hank would be around to take care of that problem.

“Actually, Christine,” Miranda said. She stopped and cleared her throat.

Christine looked up at her, apparently caught by the serious tone.

Now what? Hank was grinning like a fool, so he clearly knew what was going on. But it was Miranda who caught Sarah’s attention.

Miranda had softened toward the girl over these past months. Miranda was a completely different person from the harsh-tongued witch who had moved in, now that Sarah thought about it.

“I know this isn’t a traditional baby present, my dear, but I took the liberty of asking my lawyer to visit your—er—Charley—in jail. Here.” She handed Christine a fat, legal-sized envelope tied with pink and blue ribbons. “These papers give you sole custody of your child. Charley has relinquished all rights to custody and visitation. I believe that you will be free of him from now on.” She put the envelope on the bedside table and stepped back, looking downright smug.

Sarah’s mouth dropped open.

Rob muttered, “My God. The woman’s a genius.”

“Thank you, Robert. But it was your mother’s idea.”

Violet smiled modestly. “Isn’t it wonderful? Miranda can just work miracles with a single phone call.”

Christine burst into tears.

For a moment, Sarah could have sworn that her mother stood beside her, sharing the happiness that filled the room.

****

Hilda Sue had colic.

“I thought colicky babies were a result of tense or unloving mothers,” Sarah grumbled sleepily a couple of weeks later. She shifted the baby on her shoulder and started walking again. “Kid, you are surrounded by so much love, you ought to be floating like a cork. Why are you crying?”

She patted the tense little back. “Poor baby girl,” she crooned. “You’re going to see the nice doctor tomorrow. She’ll figure out what’s wrong, and we’ll fix it.”

Hilda Sue let out a huge burp and settled against Sarah’s shoulder with a sigh.

Scarcely daring to hope, Sarah kept walking until she was sure the baby was asleep. No point in putting her back in the cradle. The sun was just peeking over the horizon and it was almost time for her next feeding.

Besides, in the quiet hours of the night, she could pretend for a moment. The soft warmth of the baby against her was hypnotic, a brief glimpse of what she might have had if she’d picked more wisely when she’d married. She could pretend just a little that her baby had lived, that this was a bona fide grandchild instead of a borrowed baby.

Eventually this new family of hers would fall apart. Beth would move on. She couldn’t bear to think about Violet and Miranda, and the few years they had left. Eventually Christine would leave, and Hank and Hilda Sue would go with her. Sarah’s heart hitched at the thought. At eighteen, Christine had a whole life ahead of her, and it would include love, more children. Hank certainly seemed to have that in mind.

Sarah wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Christine needed some time to be on her own, to find out who she was, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards. The girl would have to find her own way in her own time.

Just like I’m having to do. Sarah paced around the conservatory because that had been her mother’s favorite room, savoring the warm weight of the sleeping baby and watching the sun rise. The important thing was to be happy with what she had, but it was an uphill struggle.

This makeshift family wouldn’t last, any more than the other had.

Oh, come on, Sarah. Get off the pity pot. Don’t ruin what you have now by grabbing for more. She would enjoy Christine and Violet and Miranda and little Hilda Sue for as long as they chose to stay with her.

And Rob. She hadn’t allowed herself to think about Rob. How could she ever get through these days without the rock that was Rob? She’d probably have to. She’d put him off, in spite of his obvious interest, for over a year now. How egotistical of her to imagine that now that she had time for him, he’d still be there.

All day, Sarah concentrated on being grateful for what she had. She worked alone in her office, but loneliness was out of the question because every few minutes, it seemed, someone popped in with a question, or a cup of coffee, or a chance to hold the baby for a moment.

By dinner time, she was sure that everyone was hiding something. But what? Hank came to dinner, and Beth. They seemed to have blended seamlessly into the household, and everyone glanced anxiously at her when they thought she wasn’t watching.

It couldn’t still be the mother thing, could it? Beth had started seeing a counselor and seemed to be getting past her guilt. Sarah’s love and care for her own mother had almost destroyed their friendship, but that was all water under the bridge now. Well, there was no point in sitting here guessing. They all looked as though they were ready to explode with suppressed emotions, so they’d probably tell her soon.

If she could stand the suspense. Whatever was going on, they were all in on it. She was the only one who didn’t know.

The heck with waiting for them. As soon as she finished the dishes, she was going to line them all up and conduct an interrogation.

But as soon as she had sluiced out the sink and Rob had hung the dishtowel to dry, Violet and Miranda, Christine and Hilda Sue, and Hank and Beth appeared in the kitchen.

“We need to talk to you,” Miranda said.

“Well, gee. I’m so surprised.”

“Oh, dear,” Violet twittered, wringing her hands. “I told everyone not to say anything until we had a chance to talk all together. You must be wondering.”

“Suspicious. You all are the worst secret-keepers in the world. I’d have to be deaf, dumb, blind, and on another continent not to have guessed something was going on. So. Everybody sit down and tell me what it is.”

Christine twisted a lock of her hair and clutched her baby closer.

Violet continued to wring her hands.

Miranda wouldn’t look at her.

Hank twitched.

Beth coughed.

Rob leaned back in his chair. “Told you so.”

“We—” Violet began.

“If—” Christine said, and stopped.

“I—” Miranda couldn’t seem to get any further than the others.

Sarah looked at Rob. “Well?”

“We all want to know what you want us to do,” he said.

“That’s it? Why should I want you to do anything other than what you have been doing all along? Well, up until the last few days. You’ve been driving me nuts with all this hush-hush stuff.”

“I think it’s too soon for you to be thinking about future plans,” Rob said. “But we’re all wondering if you’re going to sell the house.”

“And ask us to move,” added Christine.

“We’d have to have time to find someplace to live,” whispered Violet.

Miranda looked thunderous.

Sell the house? Sarah looked around at her friends, her family, her mouth open in shock. “Sell the house? Are you out of your minds? Why would I do that? Where would we all live?”

“I thought you might want a condo so you didn’t have to do so much housework. Not to mention that it wouldn’t have any squalling babies,” Christine said.

“Hilda Sue is my god-daughter,” Sarah told her. “I think that settles the matter.”

“Well, sure. But you might not want to be a godmother twenty-four seven, you know.”

“Don’t be silly.” Sarah turned to Beth.

Beth gazed at the ceiling. “I know I don’t belong, but if I got rid of my apartment, I could pay my share of the expenses.”

“Of course you belong.” Honestly. These people. She looked at Violet. “And you?”

Violet looked at her with round eyes. “Do you want us to leave?” she whispered.

She’d never considered that Violet, and presumably Miranda, would leave. “Leave? But where would you go?”

“That’s just it,” Miranda said. “If you want us to go, we need to start looking right away. Violet might have considerable difficulty finding a place she can afford.”

“Oh, but—” Violet snapped off the words, but her eyes stayed panicky.

“Yes, I said we’d look for a place to share.” Miranda looked embarrassed.

Good grief. After all they’d been through, Miranda was still trying to hide her soft side. “I see.” Sarah turned to Rob and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, if they leave, I can’t be here all the time. The town would be scandalized.” Rob’s grin said he couldn’t care less about the town’s opinion.

That left Hank. “Well?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I know I’m not part of this,” he said. “But I was worried about Christine and Hilda Sue.”

“What a bunch of idiots,” Sarah said. “What makes you think I want you all to leave?”

“You don’t need us to help with your mother anymore,” Miranda said.

“So you think I’ve just been using you as slave labor all this time.”

“Of course not. But don’t you want to go out and have fun?” Violet asked.

“You can’t want a baby under foot all the time,” Christine said. “After I go to work, I’d be asking you to baby-sit whenever day care was closed.”

“Oh, Heavens to Betsy. As Mother would have said. I thought we were a family. Yes, you too, Hank. I thought we’d find a way to send Christine to school. I thought we’d stay together—” Sarah bit off the word that finished the sentence in her mind: forever. Of course it wouldn’t be forever. She’d already faced that. That didn’t mean she had to like it. “I thought this was your home. Our home,” she finished, and it came out more like a plea than she’d intended.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Violet sniffled. “We were so afraid you wouldn’t want us anymore.”

“Oh, thank you, Sarah,” Christine whispered. “I didn’t know what I was going to do if you didn’t want us.”

“Yes, thank you,” Beth whispered.

Hank just grinned, his hand on Christine’s.

“Hmph,” Miranda said, sounding more like her old self. But Sarah noticed that her shoulders had relaxed. “You’d have come with us, of course.”

Rob hadn’t said anything. Sarah looked at him. He winked. “Me too?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I guess that settles it,” he said. “We’re a family. So who wants some ice cream?”