Hannah. Both slept peacefully throughout the transition. Ally checked that the baby monitor was on, then tiptoed out of the nursery and into the kitchen.
Well, there was nothing to this, she decided four hours later, checking the sleeping twins for the umpteenth time. She’d been worried for nothing. She could relax.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang. She closed the nursery door and dashed lightly into the living room. Her eyes widened when she recognized Spence outside the door.
“Hi,” she said, opening up and letting him in. “What are you doing in this neighborhood?”
Stupid question. His mother lived a quarter mile up the road. He was on his way there, most likely. He was dressed in blue shorts and a polo shirt. She noticed that his arms and legs were very tan. She imagined him playing golf or tennis with all the attractive single women at the apartment complex.
“Providing dinner,” he explained. “I didn’t know if you would remember to eat, this being your first night with the twins. I brought over sandwiches—beef tongue, sliced eggs, kosher dills and hot mustard with a touch of garlic.”
Ally hid a smile. Spence prided himself on his gourmet touch with sandwiches. His friends thought his combinations were weird. Spence cheerfully ignored their comments.
“Oh, thanks. That was thoughtful of you. The twins are sleeping, so everything is fine.”
“Great. Got a cold beer? It’s a furnace out today.”
Ally stared after him while he walked in, closed the door and kicked off his sneakers. He headed for the kitchen. She followed, her mind in a whirl.
“I don’t have any beer. Have you been playing tennis?” she asked, placing the bag of food on the table.
Another stupid question. It was none of her business.
“No, helping Johnny put in a drip system over at his place. Claire wants to do a native plant garden. Your aunt knew a lot about that stuff. I told Claire you could give her some advice on what to plant.”
He helped himself to a can of soda and rubbed the icy container over his forehead before popping it open and taking a long drink.
“Well, I know a little,” she admitted. “My aunt let me help her pick out plants. How are Claire and Johnny doing with their new baby? Lucy—isn’t that her name?”
“Yes. They’re doing okay. Johnny says she’s sleeping all night now. You want a root beer?”
When she nodded, he plucked one from the fridge, nudged the door shut with his hip and settled at the table.
“I’m starved,” he continued. “Don’t bother with a plate for me. I won’t need one.” He dug in.
Ally put two paper plates on the table anyway and took a seat across from him. She felt funny with him there. It was the first time they’d been alone since…since…high-school graduation night.
Heat rushed to her face for no reason. That ill-advised episode was behind them. She would be wise to forget it had ever happened, just as he had.
She took a sip of root beer, then unwrapped the other sandwich, touched again by his thoughtfulness. The inexplicable tenderness she’d experienced toward him at the hospital returned.
From the baby monitor, she heard soft noises, as if one of the twins was restless. She tensed, but neither cried. They were certainly sleeping a long time.
She wanted to comment on this, but Spence had made it clear with his brief responses to her questions about the other couple that he wasn’t interested in discussing babies and such. The silence stretched between them. He didn’t seem to notice.
Irritation pricked at her. She knew it was perfectly irrational, but his hearty appetite and indifference to conversation made her angry. She was jumpy with the sleeping children in the house. It would have been nice to discuss this natural state caused by being a new parent. Once, she wouldn’t have hesitated to pour her heart out to him.
But not now.
After eating the meal, she tossed her used plate in the trash and sipped the root beer. Spence polished off his food in short order.
“Ahh,” he murmured. “I might make it through the night. Got any dessert?”
“There’s sherbet in the freezer, cookies in the pantry.” She frowned as he rummaged through her shelves.
“Nonfat,” he said, reading the label on the cookies with a grimace. “What’s wrong with good old-fashioned butter? Has everyone gone mad?”
He was teasing. She knew that. It didn’t make her feel any better. “Some of us have to watch our weight,” she informed him rather tartly, although she forced herself to put a smile behind the words.
He swung around and looked her over from head to foot. “Do you watch yours?”
“Yes.”
The heat poured over her again as his eyes continued to study her. Once she would have told him all her worries. Not that she had any great ones, she quickly assured herself. She was just jumpy because of the twins.
“Do you think the twins are sleeping a long time?” she asked, then wished she hadn’t.
“How long have they been asleep?”
“Since I brought them home from the hospital.” She glanced at the clock. “Four hours.”
“Hmm, that doesn’t sound long.”
“Babies usually eat every three or four hours.” She stared at the monitor, then the clock again.
Spence narrowed his eyes and observed her for a long minute. “Well, let’s go look at them.”
She stood when he did. He motioned for her to lead the way. They walked down the short hall. Since he was in his socks, he made no sound at all. She tried to walk as softly.
After easing the door open, she tiptoed across the nursery and surveyed the sleeping babies. Her heart melted. They looked like cherubs, sweet and innocent and trusting. She smiled at Spence and pointed toward the door. They quietly left. He closed the door behind them.
“What are you thinking?” Spence asked, a curious note in his baritone voice as they returned to the kitchen.
“How innocent they are. How trusting.” She shook her head. “I don’t feel worthy of it.”
“Mom said you would make the perfect mother.”
Ally glanced up at him in surprise. “You discussed me and the children with Rose?”
“Of course.” His eyes locked with hers. “She worried about you during the winter. After Jack was gone. She said your grief was very deep and very lonely.”
Ally looked away from his probing gaze, feeling the strange loneliness descend on her again. She didn’t understand it at all.
“He was at work. Alone. We
