Overwhelm.
She was living in overwhelm. And that was why Frank’s email was sending her home.
“Don’t try to convince yourself that your first instinct is wrong,” Mike elaborated, driving with his eyes on her through the tiny mirror. “You’re doing that female thing. Don’t invalidate yourself. Believe in whatever’s driving you to get home to Jillian. It’s important. It’s worthy. You’re valid for believing whatever’s in your gut.”
That made her tear up even more.
Traffic was backed up—no surprise given that it was already nearly five o’clock. By the time they got home it was well past six, and Cyndi was fine with their lateness, always reasonable and understanding. Closing her arms around little Jillian’s chubby body, legs like chunks of soft dough, cheeks the color of freshly picked cider apples in late October, made Laura feel like her heart was safely behind her ribs again.
It really was okay.
“I gave her a bath when you texted, and she already ate dinner. Given the time”—Laura knew it was 6:45 p.m.—“she’s probably ready for bed soon enough,” Cyndi declared. Short and thick, with steel-gray hair, the nanny’s piercing blue eyes were troubled, if no-nonsense. “And it looks like you could use a good night’s sleep as well, Laura.”
All Laura could do was bury her face in Jillian’s neck.
“Mama seepy,” the little girl said. “Zzzzzz.” It was a game Mike and Dylan played with her, and Laura laughed that her daughter had made the connection between Cyndi’s words and the dads’ game. Every day, little changes like this made her marvel. She hadn’t given birth to a baby.
She’d brought a little whole human being into the world.
Now that’s a superpower.
“Mama’s sleepy, yes,” Laura repeated as Jillian rested her brown curls on Laura’s shoulder, snuggling in like she was molded to live there. Which she was.
“Is everything okay?” Cyndi asked quietly. “You seem anxious. Did something happen?”
“No,” Laura rushed to say, not wanting to deal with anyone else’s emotional state right now. A dawning realization made her elaborate.
More than she wanted to.
“Did anyone call the house while we were gone?”
Cyndi’s face lit up. “Oh, yes!”
Oh, no.
“Your Uncle Frank called. I didn’t know you had an uncle!” Cyndi hurried over to the counter that separated the large, open-concept kitchen from the living room and picked up a slip of paper. “Here. He asked that you call him as soon as possible. Said he might swing into town for a few days and would love to see his favorite niece.”
His only niece.
Laura’s stomach dropped through the earth’s crust and into the magma layer. “Thanks,” she gasped.
Cyndi frowned, then her eyes changed to a wary look. “Oh dear. He was so charming on the phone, and I just assumed…” She touched Laura’s hand. “He’s not someone you want in your life, is he? I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Laura answered, but she reached for Cyndi’s hand and clasped it like it was a lifeline. Kind, wrinkled eyes, intelligent and perceptive, yet so compassionate, met hers.
Jillian’s weight on her shoulder shifted just enough for Laura to realize that the baby had fallen asleep, her breathing suddenly even, her little lips nuzzled against Laura’s ear.
“She wanted her mama,” Cyndi said with a squeeze of the hand.
Laura swallowed hard as Mike and Dylan came into the room, brows furrowed, worried and ready to talk.
“Her mama,” Laura said through a voice full of worry over the unknown, “wanted her.”
“Something more happen?” Mike asked, crossing the room, his sheer size a comfort to Laura. Cyndi looked up to meet his eyes, and it was like she was watching Superman fly overhead.
“Uncle Frank called,” Laura whispered.
“Here?” Dylan asked, incredulous. “The house phone? It’s unlisted.”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” Cyndi said in an apologetic tone. “I just assumed he was a family member and it was okay to talk to him. To tell him.”
Laura’s extremities went cold. “Tell him what?”
Cyndi dropped her hand and gave Mike and Dylan beseeching looks. “He asked about Jillian. How she was doing, what she was like, and how Laura was. Asked about you two as well. Whether you treated ‘his girls’ right.”
Laura’s eyes bugged out of her head. Mike and Dylan exchanged angry looks.
“I’m so sorry!” Cyndi gushed. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”
Laura shook her head, as if trying to get rid of a bad thought. Which she was. The movement made Jillian rub her face against Laura’s neck. The toddler’s body heat was the only reason Laura wasn’t chilled to the bone with dread.
“Cyndi,” Mike said, “you haven’t done a thing wrong. We’re not certain why Laura’s uncle has suddenly come out of the woodwork, but Laura’s worried, and that’s good enough for us. From now on, screen his calls.”
“And if he shows up here,” Dylan added, lips tight, anger morphing his features, “don’t let him in. Call us right away, and worst case, call the police.”
“The police!” Laura cried out. Jillian smacked her lips in her sleep, and Laura lowered her voice. “Guys, I think I’m making you overreact. Frank’s not harmful. He’s never hurt me or threatened me before. It’s not like that at all.”
“You’re freaked, though. I can smell it on you.” Mike’s words made Cyndi do a double take, but he was dead serious.
“I’m freaked out because it’s just weird. And having him call here…”
“Why would he?” Dylan asked, but it was quickly clear his question was rhetorical, for he answered it himself, Mike and Laura all saying the word at the same time.
“Money.”
Cyndi made a clucking sound. “People come out of the woodwork when it comes to big money,” she said. “Not that I would know.” Her rueful grin made Laura feel sheepish.
“We didn’t live with money either, until a few years ago,” Dylan said. “You know I was a firefighter and Mike was a ski instructor.”
“We weren’t exactly rich,” Mike added.
“But you are now,” Laura pointed out.