This baby is the best and most confusing thing to happen to us, and yet, I love her so much.
The next morning, I’ve got Ollie’s truck pulled into the bay, and my coffee is balanced closely on the workbench like a lifeline. He took my truck to work so I could finally fix his with the partthat just arrived. Owen’s in the office with Ellie playing a game on my computer while he keeps an eye on her for me. She’s got her days and nights mixed up, it seems. She’s sleeping most of the day and up at night. So, that’s fun. If I play my cards right, it should just take me under an hour to fix, and we can all go upstairs and take a nap. Unfortunately for Ollie, he’s working, but if he has a slow day, maybe he can catch a nap. It’s a day off from school for training that I didn’t have to attend, so I’m glad to be home and catch up.
Ellie’s asleep in her carrier in the office, tiny chest rising and falling, completely unaware she’s already spending quality time in a mechanic’s shop just like Owen did as a baby. I keep the door cracked, wiping my hands on a rag between steps, checking on her more than necessary. Owen gives me a thumbs up when he sees me and rolls his eyes the next few times I peek in.
I’m halfway under the hood when the bell over the front door rings. I have the closed sign up so I can focus on this, but this person must not have seen it.
I straighten and wipe my hands on a rag before turning around.
A woman stands just inside the doorway.
She’s about my age, maybe a little younger. Slim, but not in a polished way. More like she’s been running on fumes for a while. Her dark hair is pulled into a low, messy knot that looks like it’s been redone too many times. She’s wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings, the fabric stretched thin at the elbows, like comfort won out over everything else this morning. Her arms are wrapped tight around herself, shoulders hunched, eyes darting around the shop like she might bolt at any second.
Then her gaze lands on the truck in the bay.
And sticks.
“I’m looking for Ollie Kendrick,” she says quietly.
My stomach drops hard enough that I have to brace myself against the workbench.
Of course you are.
A flash of heat goes through me before I can stop it. Something sharp and protective that makes my spine straighten. This is my space. My shop. Ollie’s truck. Ollie’s life. And suddenly there’s a stranger standing in the middle of it.
I keep my voice steady. “He’s not here right now.”
Her eyes flick to me, sharp despite the nerves, like she’s weighing whether I’m lying. “Isn’t that his truck?”
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s his.”
She swallows, glancing around again, fingers tightening in her sleeves. When her eyes meet mine, they’re glossy and frantic, like she’s been holding it together by sheer will.
I hesitate.
Then I ask, softly, “Are you Madison?”
Her face crumples just a little at the sound of her name. She nods.
Fear flashes across her expression, raw and unguarded, like she’s bracing for bad news. “Do you know if she’s okay?”
That’s the moment something inside me shifts.
I really look at her then. The dark circles under her eyes. The way her hands are trembling just slightly. The exhaustion that clings to her like she hasn’t slept properly in days. She’s not confident or smug or trying to stake a claim.
She’s terrified.
“She’s okay,” I say gently. “Are you okay?”
Her shoulders sag, the question hitting harder than anything else so far. Like no one’s thought to ask her that.
“She is?” she whispers.
“She’s beautiful,” I say. “She’s sleeping right now.”
Tears spill instantly, fast and uncontained. She presses a hand to her mouth, breath hitching. “Can I… can I see her?”
I hesitate.
