"Isn't it just."
Eleanor stirred in her sleep, making a small sound of contentment. Harriet reached out to stroke her daughter's dark curls, marveling as she always did at the softness of them.
"She's perfect," she whispered.
"She's a menace."
"A perfect menace."
"I'll accept that compromise."
***
The book arrived three weeks later.
Sebastian was in his study, reviewing estate accounts, when Harriet burst through the door without knocking. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, and she was clutching something to her chest.
"It's here," she said. "It's actually here."
Sebastian rose from his desk. "The book?"
"The book." Harriet held it out to him, her hands trembling slightly. "It's real. It's an actual book. With pages and binding and everything."
He took it from her carefully, reverently. The cover was simple, dark blue cloth, with gold lettering that spelled out the title:Lake Country Verses, by a Lady.
Harriet's book. Her poems. Published at last.
"Open it," she urged. "Look."
He opened to the title page, where the publisher's information was printed in neat type. And below that, a dedication:
For S.V., who taught me that hope is worth the risk.
Sebastian's throat tightened. "Harriet…"
"Don't." She was crying now, tears streaming down her face. "Don't say anything. I'll start sobbing properly, and then Eleanor will wake up, and it will be chaos."
"Come here."
He pulled her into his arms, the book pressed between them, and held her while she cried. These were not the tears of grief he had grown so accustomed to comforting…these were tears of joy, of disbelief, of dreams finally realized.
"I didn't think it would actually happen," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "Even when the publisher accepted it.Even when they sent the proofs. I kept waiting for something to go wrong."
"Nothing went wrong."
"I know. That's what's so strange." She pulled back to look at him, her face blotchy and beautiful. "Good things keep happening, Sebastian. The baby, the book, and this life we have. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and it just... doesn't."
"Perhaps there is no other shoe."
"There's always another shoe."
"Not always." He cupped her face in his hands. "Sometimes things simply work out. Sometimes people get to be happy."
"That sounds too easy."
"It wasn't easy. We fought for this. We survived two years of heartbreak and came out the other side. We earned this happiness, Harriet. Both of us."
She was quiet for a moment, processing his words. Then she laughed a watery, incredulous sound.
