Chapter 15: Twenty Minutes Late

Eli's POV

Since the church, I had been sleeping on her friend's couch.

Nobody had asked me to, exactly.

Her friend had looked at me over the dishes on Sunday night.

"Gail Dunning knows where this house is," she said. "I'd feel better with a man in it who can lift a crib."

So I took off my boots by the door and stayed.

At three in the morning the baby woke up, and I heard the spare room's floor creak.

I lay on the couch with my eyes open and did not go in.

That was a rule I had made. I did not go in unless she called.

Five minutes later she came out to the kitchen in a gray T-shirt and flannel pants, with the baby on her shoulder, and put the kettle on.

She saw me watching.

"You're awake," she said.

"Always, at three."

"Come sit. You make me feel like I'm doing something wrong when you stare from over there."

I came and sat on the stool across the counter.

She settled into the kitchen chair with the baby latched and a blanket over her shoulder, and I looked at the kettle until it boiled.

"You can look at me," she said. "I'm a mother. I have no secrets left."

"I'll look at the kettle."

"Suit yourself."

The kettle clicked off.

She laughed at me, softly, so as not to wake the baby, and I felt it all the way down.

I poured two cups and set hers on the counter within reach.

"Travis was on the porch tonight," I said.

Her head came up.

"He was out there at eleven. In his car, with the engine off. I went out and told him she's asleep and he could go home."

"You didn't tell me."

"You were asleep." I turned my cup in my hands. "He said he wasn't going to knock. He said he only wanted to be on the street."

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