Penelope had gone to church this morning and come here after. She expected Theo to arrive home soon to relieve her, which would give her time to straighten her apartment and her hair before Eli’s visit.
Picking up theEuropean Piescookbook she’d brought with her, she made herself comfortable on the sofa and started to read.
Aubrey levered herself to standing, then reached down to scoop up the infant. “Madeline’s getting sleepy. I’m going to go tuck her in.”
“You bet. Call if you need my help with anything.”
“I will.”
She eyed a recipe for Swedish apple pie. How did one sayyummyin Swedish? She looked it up on her phone.Smaskigt. This pie lookedsmaskigt.
The sound of Madeline’s irritable crying reached her. She let it go on for a few minutes, mindful of the fact that poor Aubrey hadn’t had one square second alone in her house with her child in days. If Penelope were in Aubrey’s position, she wouldn’t want well-meaning people rushing to her side every time Madeline squawked.
“Anything I can do?” Penelope finally called.
“Thanks,” Aubrey called back, “but I think she’s settling down now.”
Sure enough, the fussing gradually gave way to the strains of the lullaby music Aubrey played on a portable speaker.
Penelope considered a German cottage cheese pie. It looked—she consulted her phone—lecker. Then an Irish banoffee pie, made with bananas, caramel, and cream. Apparently the Irish wordsobhlastameant delicious. “Sobhlasta,” Penelope whispered in her best (not good) Irish accent.
It might be fun to spend a few weeks this fall selling European pies at her shop. She could decorate the truck with European trappings. Market her European pies around town...
Penelope looked up from the cookbook, listening. The house was unusually still. She could hear the lullaby sounds and nothing else.
“Aubrey?” Penelope called. She wanted to be respectful of her privacy. But she also needed to be attentive.
No answer.
Unease slipped around her eerily... like an eel sliding against her skin in murky water.
She stood. She’d just go check to see if Aubrey was napping. As she rounded the turn in the hallway that led to the bedrooms, she saw Aubrey, lying on her back on the floor outside the nursery.
Fear drove the air from Penelope’s lungs. She fell to her knees beside her sister-in-law. “Aubrey? Are you okay?” She gently shook her shoulder.
Aubrey was not okay, nor awake. She could feel the warmth of Aubrey’s skin through her lightweight summer top. She was breathing as if asleep, but... Penelope gave her a slightly harder shake. Aubrey wasn’t sleeping. She wouldn’t have taken a nap in the middle of her hallway floor. She was unconscious.
Penelope punched 911 into her phone with trembling fingers.
You’re the Rock of Gibraltar! This is not the time to fall apart.
And so she wouldn’t.
A female voice answered.
“My sister-in-law was—was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism just over a week ago.” Her words emerged shaky but quick. “She’s currently unconscious. I need an ambulance here immediately.” She rattled off the address and the woman told her that an ambulance was on its way.
The dispatcher kept Penelope on the line, asking questions about Aubrey that Penelope answered as she went in search of Madeline.
Horror clawed its way upward, past her tightening throat. Where was the baby?
Penelope was on duty. The one in charge of making sure Aubrey and Madeline were safe and well. She’d screwed up.
She checked Madeline’s nursery first. Little piles of clean baby clothing sat on the rug, but Madeline was not asleep in the crib.
The woman on the other end of the line was attempting to ask more questions, but all Penelope could think waswhere’s Madeline?
She checked the bathroom next to the nursery. Not here.
