“Kath’s on the line,” he said, a puzzled expression on his face. “Why did she call your cell?”

“She didn’t want to wake up the babies,” she explained, taking it. “Hi, Kath. Did you find out anything? Well, did you ask him to check around and let you know if he does find anything out?” Susan listened to the answer and Jed returned to their bedroom. A few minutes later, Susan found him sitting on the edge of their bed, playing with his new camera.

“Look at this. I think I got some great shots of Rosie. Ethan had his back to me and I was afraid he’d wake up if we turned him over.” He held out the camera. “Go ahead. Just press the button on the back. The arrows indicate the direction you want to go.”

Susan took the camera from him and stared at the screen that displayed the enchanting image of her granddaughter. “We have a problem,” she said quietly, going through the photos. Since Rosie couldn’t roll over yet, they were pretty much identical and didn’t take long to review.

“Could it wait until the morning? I hate to admit it, but those kids wore me out. I’m exhausted.”

Susan didn’t answer immediately. She knew she should share what she had learned about Shannon with her husband, but he had just said he was exhausted, and, to be honest, she would rather tell him after she had figured out what they should do. Of course, she owed it to him to be honest. Their marriage was based on honesty, on decisions made jointly. She opened her mouth to explain, but the screams from next door prevented anything further.

“My God! Listen to the lungs on those kids,” Jed exclaimed, pulling his pajamas out of his dresser drawer. He tossed them onto the bed, then headed toward the bathroom.

“Jed, don’t you think-?”

“If you’re going to suggest that we volunteer to take care of the babies, the answer is no, I don’t think we need to. They have a nurse. They have two parents. We’re the grandparents. We’re supposed to play with them and spoil them, not spend the middle of the night taking care of them. Not unless we have to.”

“But-”

“Susan, you do what you want, but unless a miracle happens and Chrissy and Stephen find an apartment they love at a price they can afford that is available immediately, my guess is that they’re going to be with us for a while-”

“Which will be wonderful!”

“Which will have its wonderful aspects. It will also be demanding and exhausting and difficult and I, for one, don’t want to lose any more sleep than is absolutely necessary.”

“I guess the kids will yell if they need us.”

“I’m sure they will.” Jed walked into the bathroom. “And they have Shannon to depend on too, remember” were his last words before the door swung closed behind him.

Susan put her cell phone down on the nightstand and retrieved her nightgown from beneath her pillow. It was one of her favorites, made from soft white lawn. She had bought it at Liberty ’s on her last trip to London. She looked at it, sighed, and headed for her dresser. She really didn’t want to get up to help with the twins, but, if necessary, she would and she’d be properly dressed. She rummaged around in her dresser until she found the tailored taupe cotton pajamas her mother-in-law had sent on her last birthday. She looked a little like a prisoner in a penal colony wearing them, but the twins were too young to notice the resemblance.

By the time Susan was ready for bed, the house was calm. Kathleen’s call had done nothing to still her worries about Shannon and she expected to have trouble falling asleep. She was wrong. The problem was staying asleep.

Susan was fairly sure she hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour when the twins began to cry again. Jed rolled over, groaned, and put a pillow over his head. She was about to do the same when she heard something hit the wall in the hallway outside of their bedroom. It sounded as though someone had dropped something… or someone! She jumped out of bed and ran to the hall.

Stephen was kneeling on the floor, rubbing the rug with one of the receiving blankets she had just washed, dried, and folded.

“Stephen?”

“I knocked Rosie’s bottle against the wall and the top fell off,” he explained, looking up. “And I think her patience is wearing a little thin,” he added as the crying became even louder.

“Where’s Chrissy?” Susan asked.

“She’s feeding Ethan, and Shannon is downstairs cleaning up the kitchen. I meant to put the pan I used to warm the formula in the sink, but I dropped it, too.” He looked sheepish. “You must think I’m trying to destroy your house in just one night.”

“I think you’re exhausted.” Susan swooped down and grabbed the cloth from his hand. “I’ll take care of this later. You go tell Chrissy that there will be another bottle of formula coming up right away. Then you go to bed. You’re supposed to be at work tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but Chrissy is tired, too.”

Susan smiled. What a wonderful son-in-law! “Don’t worry about Chrissy. I’ll make sure she has a long nap tomorrow, or I should say today. You go on.” She hurried downstairs, not giving him time to argue with her plan.

Years ago, when her kitchen had been remodeled, Susan had reserved a corner of the room for a small built-in desk. She did a lot of the household paperwork here, using the space to pay bills as well as look up recipes in her large cookbook collection that was shelved nearby. Shannon was standing in front of the desk as Susan entered the room.

“We need another bottle of formula,” Susan announced.

The nurse started, dropping whatever it was she held in her hand. “I… I’ll get it done right away.” Shannon hurried toward the stove.

Susan glanced at her desk. What had Shannon been examining in private? There were a half dozen cookbooks on her desk, but only two books lay open on the pile: Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume One, and Susan’s address book.

SIX

NO ONE IN THE HOUSE GOT MORE THAN A COUPLE OF HOURS of uninterrupted sleep that night. As daylight finally penetrated the slit between the curtains, Susan gave up and got up. Jed and Clue were still snoring when, dressed in the warm clothing required to spend any time outside during spring in Connecticut, she slipped from the room. She noted the stain on the carpet and the splash on the wall as she walked around two bulging plastic bags that seemed to have sprouted in the hallway overnight. She was too tired to deal with any of this without a large mug of coffee. She needed it so much that she imagined she could smell the tantalizing brew wafting up the stairs.

But she wasn’t imaging the full pot of coffee steaming in the coffeemaker-or the enticing pan of what looked like homemade cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter. Or the young woman sitting at the table reading the New York Times who jumped to her feet when Susan entered the room.

“ Shannon?”

“Mrs… Susan, I hope you don’t mind. I was just waiting for the rolls to cool a bit before I frosted them.”

“No… I… Do you always get up early in the morning and bake?”

“Well, I always get up early in the morning. One of the reasons I’m a good baby nurse is that I have insomnia. It’s easier to take care of newborns if you don’t need a lot of sleep,” she added, smiling ruefully. “I hope you don’t mind me taking over your kitchen like this. I’ve been cooking breakfast for Stephen and Chrissy since the twins came home from the hospital. She’s so tired and cooking is one of my hobbies. It relaxes me.” She glanced over at the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. “And I couldn’t resist your cookbook collection. You have so many books on baking. I hope you don’t mind me going through them.”

“Of course not,” Susan replied. “If you’re interested, there’s a complete collection of bound Gourmet magazines on the shelves behind the door in Jed’s study. I bought them at an estate sale a few months ago.”