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“Whose car is that?” Alice asked as he pulled into the driveway. He looked at the red Toyota, his throat dry as he realized Harper must be here.
“It’s a friend’s,” he said, his voice rough. “She’s been using the basement for her business. I’m guessing she’s down there now.”
“She has a key?” Alice asked. He couldn’t tell from her tone whether it was idle conversation or something more.
“It’s easier. I work a lot.”
“Of course.”
The pulse in his temple was edging on painful. He rubbed it as he climbed out and pulled the wheelchair from the trunk, setting it up and helping Sara’s mom out of the car. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and pushed her to the front door.
As soon as they were inside he felt the pull. The need to go downstairs and see her. Hear her voice. To know life was still going on, in the form of Harper and their baby, and to be sure they were both okay.
“I need the bathroom,” Alice’s mom said. “Can you take me, honey?”
Alice nodded. “Sure.”
“You remember where it is? James asked, and Alice nodded. “Okay, I’ll just go tell Harper we’re here so we don’t surprise her. Then I’ll put some coffee on, before we head to Delmonico’s.”
His heart was pounding as he opened the basement door and walked down the stairs. He could hear the whirr of Harper’s sewing machine and the soft music coming from the stereo in the corner. Then he saw her, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, bent over the machine as she fed the fabric beneath the needle.
“Harper?”
The machine stopped as she lifted her foot from the pedal. Slowly she turned around, her eyes blinking as she saw him standing there. “Hey,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I assumed you were at the hospital.”
“Not today. I… ah… had something else to do.”
She stood, then groaned and slid her hand beneath her bump. “I swear this little monkey is on some kind of sugar high,” she told him. “She hasn’t stopped moving all day.”
The need to touch her pulled at him. “Can I feel?”
“Yeah, of course.” She walked toward him, though it was becoming more of a waddle now. On her small frame her stomach looked absurdly swollen. As though she was closer to full term than only thirty-three weeks. She stopped in front of him, her expression unreadable, as he slid his hands down her abdomen, swallowing hard at the feel of her body against his palms.
“Here,” she said softly, moving his palm beneath her bump. “Can you feel her?”
Through the barrier of her skin he felt a thump against his hand. “Yeah,” he said. “Is that a foot?”
“She’s head down now. So I’m thinking it’s a hand.” Her lips curled. “She’s high fiving you.”
“Or punching me.”
Harper laughed and the sound of it warmed him. “She had the hiccups last night. Every thirty seconds it was like an earthquake in my stomach. I couldn’t sleep.”
“I wish I’d felt it.”
“I do, too.”
“James, you’re out of soap. Where do you keep it?” Alice’s voice echoed from the top of the basement stairs.
He snatched his hands away from Harper’s stomach. She blinked at the abruptness of his movement. How the hell hadn’t he heard the basement door open? Had he left it open?
A second later he heard her footsteps on the stairs. “James?” she called again.
Harper’s eyes met his. Her brow dipped. “Who’s that?”
But then Alice had reached the bottom of the stairs and was standing five feet away from them. Her expression was as confused as Harper’s. She opened her mouth and closed it again, biting down on her lip.
But it was Harper who grabbed his attention. She let out a cry and stepped backward, clutching her hand to her chest. “Sara?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I thought you were dead.”
