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She grabbed her purse and walked up to the front door.

A teenage girl wearing earbuds answered the door. When she saw her, she said, “Mrs. Withers?”

“Yes, Vivi. My name is Emily Withers, and I’m a friend of Mr. Cross. I’m here to take over babysitting for you. Mr. McAllister is waiting in his car to take you home. He will pay you.”

“Yes. Mr. Cross called to tell me you would come here. The kids are fine. They went to bed a little late but fell asleep right away. I’ll get my things.”

“Thanks. I’ll wait for you here.”

Vivi unlocked the door and left Emmie standing there.

In moments, she returned with a leather bag, a bunch of books, and a cell phone.

Emmie saw that Vivi was in the car before she turned, went inside, and closed the front door.

In the quiet, Emmie toured the downstairs rooms. She could see where upgrades had been made, and, like Cinda herself, the decorating was tasteful. She straightened and cleaned up the den where the kids must have watched television.

Then she went to the large, homey kitchen. It was a mess. Vivi must have heated up frozen pizza. The wrappings were still on top of a counter, along with the baking sheet. Dirty dishes were on the table, along with glasses still holding a variety of drinks. A two-tiered cake sat on a plate with gouges, rather than slices, removed from it.

Emmie put the dishes and glasses in the dishwasher, covered the cake with foil, and washed the tabletop well, picking up pieces of pepperoni which someone had chosen not to eat.

Standing back, admiring the sparkling space, Emmie felt as if she knew Cinda better. The homemade cake showed love for her boys, even the choice of a favorite kid's dinner. She noticed a box of books in the corner of the eating space. As an avid young reader, Emmie had been allowed to read at the table in the mornings and at lunch. It looked like Cinda’s boys could, too.

Quietly, Emmie walked up the stairs to check on the boys.

She discovered the upstairs had a master suite and three other bedrooms, two of which were separated by a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. The other bedroom had its own bathroom and would, Emmie thought, make a nursery for a baby one day.

Emmie opened one of the bedroom doors and saw Mack stretched across the top of the quilt, arms and legs relaxed. He was sleeping soundly.

Next door, she found Cole curled into a ball beneath his quilt, his head resting on his arm.

Silently, she closed the door and went downstairs.

The living room was quite formal with Victorian-style furniture, though she suspected they were new creations, more comfortable and more suitable for present-day families.

The den was obviously the place where the family hung out. A large television screen was mounted on a wall. Facing it, a U-shaped couch could hold many people, including the spot at one end where one could stretch out full length. A reclining chair faced the television, and she could picture Ryan lounging in it.

Emmie took a seat on the couch and switched on the television, keeping the sound low. She’d recently enjoyed cozy mysteries and turned to a mystery channel to see what was there.

She’d just selected a program when her cell rang. Ted.

“Hi. How’s it going?” she asked.

“Cinda’s surgery has been rescheduled to sometime in the early morning. Now, she’s pretty heavily sedated. I’m going to come and stay with you at Cinda’s and then go back to the hospital when Ryan calls me. He refuses to leave Cinda and is settled in her private room, thanks to the staff, who have been very understanding. And I’m pleased that Dr. Timothy Clausen is doing the surgery. He has a great reputation.”

“Good news,” said Emmie. “If you’d rather go home and get some sleep there before the surgery, please go ahead. I’ve found a comfortable couch and will try to get some rest later. Right now, I’m about to watch a mystery on television.”

“Would you mind if I went home? It would give me a better chance of sleep,” said Ted. “Not that I’m likely to get much.”

“Go ahead. This is such a stressful time. We’re all going to have to pace ourselves. I’ve already planned on staying until things are settled into a routine.”

“Emmie, I love you,” said Ted. “You’re the best.”

Smiling, Emmie said, “See you later.”

The call ended, leaving Emmie filled with gratitude that perhaps, by helping the family, she could become a part of it. She’d fallen early and hard for Ted. Now, she knew he loved her, too.

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