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Allison knew she had to get some sleep. She was exhausted and her daughter’s next meal service was in an hour. But while her body was ready to surrender, her brain was too busy swirling and dipping, trying to process all that had happened.
It was nearly one in the morning and the house was quiet. Still she got up and pulled on her robe, then tucked the baby monitor into her pocket. She walked barefoot down the hall.
Erica’s door was shut, but a light was on. She knocked lightly.
Seconds later the door opened and Erica looked at her, brows drawn together with concern. “Are you all right? Is it Bethany? Are we—”
“We’re fine,” Allison said quickly in a low voice. “Nothing’s wrong. I just thought... I don’t know. Can we talk?”
“It’s one in the morning.”
“I know. Is this a bad time?”
Erica stepped back and let her in, then closed the door. “No, I was awake. I guess I was just stating the obvious.”
They looked at each other, then glanced away. Allison thought about the surprises she’d come home to—the new furniture, Jackson’s room.
“You’ve done too much,” she said.
Erica returned to her large bed and got in one side. She patted the other side, then settled back against the stack of pillows.
“I’ve done just the right amount. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. No, exhausted, but happy. Bethany’s doing well. She’s eating great and sleeping and pooping.”
“Every mother’s dream,” Erica teased.
Allison slid into the big bed and leaned against the stack of pillows. “These are nice. Very comfortable.”
“I’m a pillow person. The more the better.”
Allison thought about her bed at the house she’d shared with her husband. “Peter hates pillows. Give him one flat one and he’s happy. He thinks any extras are silly.”
“The man is flawed.”
Allison didn’t want to think about that. At some point she was going to have to deal with her husband and what had happened between them, but not tonight.
“Does he know?” Erica asked. “About Bethany?”
So much for not talking about it. “I haven’t told him.” She hesitated. “I wasn’t sure how to get a message to him, then I didn’t know what to say when he made his usual call. She’s early so it’s not like—”
“Stop,” Erica said quietly. “You don’t have to explain to me. I just wondered.”
“Not yet. I’ll go see him in a few days and tell him.”
“How are you feeling physically? Not just the tired part, but the rest of it.”
“You mean passing a baby the size of a bowling ball?” Allison did her best not to shift on the bed. “Sore. Bleeding. Puffy. Slightly beat up.”
“So good?”
She laughed. “Better every day.” Her humor faded. “I need to get my life together.”
“You have a healthy newborn and an adorable little boy. I’m not sure things can be better than that.”
“I’ve been drifting.”
“You’ve been dealing with a ton of crap. Give yourself a break.”
