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Poppy practically danced out of her office. Erica watched her go, then sat down. While she wasn’t thrilled with being less than two years from fifty, she had to admit she never wanted to be as young as Poppy again.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, smiling when she saw a text from her daughter.
I’m hanging with Jackson and A tonight. Dad’s working late with clients. I’m getting takeout. Want me to get extra to bring home to you?
Erica felt the smile fade as her lips formed a tight line of disapproval. Summer wanting to spend time with her stepmother and half brother was a good thing. Her daughter had a big heart and she adored little Jackson. The annoyance of having to hear about Peter’s second family was ever present, but not anything she would ever discuss with her daughter. As far as Summer was concerned, Erica lived in constant anticipation of yet more news about little Jackson and the impending arrival of his sister.
Enjoy yourself, she typed with fabricated graciousness. I’ll get something on my way home. Be back by eight. You’re a new driver and you shouldn’t be out too late.
Oh, Mom. You’re such a worrier. I’ll be home by 8.
The text was followed by several heart emojis.
Erica returned them, then set her phone on her desk and shifted her attention back to her computer. Her daughter was thriving and happy, and a business crisis had been averted. So far it was turning out to be a very good day.
2
“When are you due?”
Allison Jenkins smiled at her customer as she continued to scan groceries.
“Three months.”
“Your first?”
“Second. My oldest is eighteen months.”
The other woman, a fiftysomething with a kind expression, winced. “That’s close together. You won’t get much sleep for the next few years.”
Allison laughed. “I haven’t been sleeping for the past two, so I probably won’t notice.”
Yes, she was having her kids close together, but she was already thirty-four. Through a series of circumstances no one could have foreseen, she hadn’t been able to even think about having a baby until the last few years. Now that she was married to a great guy, she wasn’t putting off anything.
“It’s a girl,” she added happily. “We’re naming her Bethany.”
“Beautiful. Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Allison finished ringing up the order, then waited while the credit card payment processed before handing over the receipt. Thankfully she had a brief lull in her line. She took a second to try to stretch out her back. Only twenty more minutes until her shift ended, then she would collect Jackson and head home. Peter, her husband, had said he would be in client meetings until after seven. Summer, her stepdaughter, had mentioned dropping by with takeout. Most sixteen-year-olds preferred to hang out with their friends, but Summer was a sweet young woman who adored her half brother and looked for reasons to spend time with him. As Allison adored her, she was happy for the company. Not to mention the takeout. With a toddler and another on the way, money was tight. Plus, their rental house was being sold by the landlord, meaning they were saving to move right before the baby was due. Takeout was a treat.
Allison clocked out right on time and started the thirty-minute drive to pick up Jackson from his day care. Halfway there, she pulled into a gas station. She inserted her ATM card at the pump and waited for the machine to okay her purchase. Seconds later the keypad buzzed at her while displaying a single word. “Declined.”
Allison frowned, then tried the card again. The keypad buzzed a second time. That didn’t make any sense, she thought, knowing there was plenty of money in their checking account. She put in the credit card she tried never to use and it went through just fine.
After making a mental note to call the bank, she filled her tank. She pulled into the day care parking lot at her usual time and went to collect Jackson.
Her son spotted her instantly and beamed. He was a happy, friendly kid who liked everyone and was rarely moody. He’d been a cheerful baby and so far only had very mild toddler tantrums. She could only hope she was just as lucky with Bethany.
“Hey, you,” Liz, her friend and manager of the co-op day care, called. “Ready to take your little man home?”
“I am. How’d he do?”
Liz pressed a hand to her chest. “He was perfect. I wish they were all as good as him.”
The report wasn’t a surprise—Jackson did well with the other toddlers. He wasn’t yet fully playing with them, but he enjoyed the company and often watched the older kids doing things together.
Allison signed out her son, then crouched so she was at his level, her arms open wide.
