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“It would have if we’d settled before going to court,” Susan said, thankful suddenly that the situation had played itself out as it had. “But not now.”
“We can certainly afford to help....” Tricia started.
“Yes!” Susan cried. She jumped up, hurrying around the desk to give the woman a hug. “I think we’re going to make a great team, Mrs. Halliday.”
“It was Tricia a few minutes ago.”
“I know.”
“I prefer Tricia.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Susan grinned. She could hardly wait to go out and find Ronnie and his mother. Could hardly wait to tell Michael.
“You’ll take care of all the legalities?” Tricia asked, as professional as ever. With one major difference. She was smiling, too.
MICHAEL BROUGHT home a bottle of sparkling apple juice.
“I’m proud of you, Sus,” he said, popping the cork in the kitchen while she dished out the Mexican take-out he’d also brought home with him.
Only Michael could make her feel so complete, so warm and satisfied, with a simple look. A tone of voice.
“I was really worried there for a bit,” she admitted to him. “Afraid I’d made a huge mistake bringing them here.”
“You’ve always been able to trust your hunches.”
Until recently, she added silently.
They moved to the table, carrying champagne glasses and plastic plates brimming with rice and cheese enchiladas.
“How are things going with Miller Insulation?” she asked as they ate. This was the most accessible he’d been all week.
“Slower. than I expected.” He frowned, his fork still. “The family has sent word to everyone in the company that they’re to be cooperative, tell our people anything we want to know. But the Millers themselves don’t seem eager to sit down and talk.”
Did that mean he’d be with her longer than the couple of weeks she’d expected? Could she stand to have him around that long? Or stand to let him go?
HE STAYED with her all evening, watching the news, helping her hang a couple of prints on the newly painted walls of the nursery.
“You’re doing a great job in here,” he told her, surveying the work she and Seth had done the previous weekend when Michael was in Chicago.
“If only I can find some furniture I like,” she said, trying to see the room through his eyes.
“You have something particular in mind?”
“Not really. I just seem to know what I don’t want.”
“What about car seats and stuff like that? Have you started picking up any of those extras?”
“Not yet.” She shook her head, afraid to be having this conversation with him, afraid he’d shut himself off again, as he’d done all week. Afraid to enjoy speaking with him about the babies. Afraid she’d miss what she couldn’t have.
“Don’t you think you should start looking?”
“I have looked, but there are so many decisions to make and since I’m probably only going to be doing this once, I want to make the right choices.” She slid down to the empty nursery floor, leaning against the wall, and gazed up at him.
Michael joined her, leaning against the opposite wall. “What kinds of choices?”
Telling herself not to hope that he was going to change, Susan still couldn’t suppress her delight as she told him about changing tables and diaper bags, car seats that also did duty as carriers. “And then there’s a stroller,” she said. He was listening carefully.
“You’ll need a double stroller, of course,” he said.
