A woman stood there in MY silk robe, smiling like she’d been waiting. Her hair lay smooth and glossy, like river water catching the light. Pink lipstick, perfect and bright, curved into a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes.
My pink silk robe hung on her shoulders, tied loose at the waist, like it had always been hers.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“Hi! You must be Emily. I’m Lily.”
I shifted my baby in my arms, rocking him like a small boat on gentle waves.
“Where’s my husband?”
“Oh, he ran out to get me a sweet roll. Can’t do coffee without it. You want cocoa? I made some.”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
“Why are you in my robe?”
“Linda said I could borrow it. I got cold after my shower.”
Linda. Ryan’s mother. Of course.
“Emily?” a voice called from the hallway.
My MIL appeared, stepping into the room like she owned the floorboards.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
For illustration purposes only | Source: Shutterstock
Sharp eyes, scanning me and the baby like we were strangers at her door.
“Welcome home, honey! Lily’s staying here for a while,” she announced. “Friend in a rough patch. We take care of people.”
“And where was my care?”
