“Is she coming home tonight?” I ask. I brush my hands along the silken down on top of Kit’s head.
“Probably,” she says.
I heave a sigh and pinch the skin at the bridge of my nose.
“Keep pushing her,” she says.
I jerk my head up. That was the last thing I expected her to say. “What?”
“Keep pushing her,” she says again. “She’s got a lot of baggage. And you can’t help her carry it until she’s willing to present it to you. So, keep pushing.”
“You know?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I just know someone who’s hiding. I did it myself. I can see the signs. She desperately wants someone to find her. And probably for someone to forgive her for whatever she did, so she can forgive herself.” She shrugs. “I’m just guessing, of course. I could be completely wrong.”
“I doubt it.”
“Don’t worry about being gentle. Just be yourself. You know what to say and do.” She looks at me with a soft smile on her face.
“Did she talk to you?” I ask. I wince inwardly. I should be asking Friday all of these things.
“About being a surrogate?”
I nod.
“Yeah, we talked about it when she offered to do it.”
Well, that surprises me. “I didn’t realize you were that close.”
“No one is close to Friday,” she says. Then she looks directly into my eyes. “Except you.”
I laugh, but there’s humor in the sound. “I am about as far away from Friday as anyone can get. She’s got so many fucking walls that I can’t get a peep over them, much less get around them.”
“Eventually, she’ll open the door and let you walk in.”
I look up when the literal door opens. Friday startles and looks at me. “I forgot my purse again,” Friday says quietly. She points to a bag lying in the chair beside me. I didn’t even see it there.
Emily pushes to her feet and goes to the bed, where she roughly shoves Logan. He jumps and grunts, his eyes flying open. That’s exactly the same way I’ve woken him up since he lost his hearing. It’s the only way to get his attention. “Come and take me for a walk,” Emily tells him. He stands and stretches.
Babysitters, she signs at him.
He furrows his brow at her, and she just nods toward the door. “Oh,” he says. “A walk.” He looks toward Kit. “Are you sure she’ll be all right?”
“I just fed her. Let’s go.” She takes his hand and leads him from the room. They let the door close behind them.
Friday reaches for her purse, but I stretch out and catch her hand in mine. “Please don’t go,” I say. “Please.”
She nods, biting her lower lip between her teeth. “Okay,” she breathes. She sits down beside me and fidgets. I lean over and place Kit in her arms and then press a kiss to her temple.
“Let me love you,” I say softly. Then I sit back and I watch her as she arranges Kit in her lap so that she can look into the baby’s face.
Silence sinks over the room like a wet, heavy blanket. “He was perfect,” she says quietly. “He looked like me. He had dark-blue eyes and freckles and he wasn’t but a minute old. Then I never got to see him again. Not close up. They took him from me, and I didn’t even get to hold him.”
“Where is he now?” My throat clogs so tight with emotion that I have to cough past it.
“He’s with a wonderful family that adopted him when he was a day old.” She finally looks up at me, and her eyes shimmer with tears. One drops down her cheek, and she doesn’t brush it away. “They send me pictures every six months. He’s beautiful. He plays baseball, and he loves trains.”
“We all do what we have to do to survive,” I say.
She snorts. I pass her a tissue because it almost comes out like a sob. “I was fifteen and completely alone.” She unwraps Kit and counts her toes and fingers. “She’s going to play guitar like her mom,” she says. “Look at these fingers.” Kit grips Friday’s finger in her sleep, and Friday wraps her back up.
I don’t say anything because I don’t think she wants me to.
“His name is Jacob,” she says. She smiles. “I have his footprints and his date of birth on my inner thigh. Pete did it for me.”
Fucking Pete. He knew all this time and didn’t tell me. “Little fucker,” I grumble.
“Pete knows the value of a well-placed secret.”
I’m glad she had someone to tell her secrets to. I hope someday, it’ll be me. “I treasure your secrets. I’ll hold them close to my heart and keep them between us and only us, always.”