My stomach sinks. Of course, it isn’t possible. I live in a two-bedroom circus with four adults and a bathroom that barely functions.
Then another message slides in beneath it.
Noelle:
She can take the apartment over the shop. I’ll move everything out in a day or two.
My chest tightens painfully.
Nalani:
The Puck Pad is empty most of the month. The guys are away. Plenty of space, safe neighborhood, great schools.
Another.
Sofie:
I’ll get her a suite until placement is settled.
The offers keep rolling like a wave I don’t know how to stand against.
Noelle:
She can bring Lucy to the bookstore.
Nalani:
I’ll watch her while Hildy is in class.
Sofie:
You don’t get Lucy all the time! We’ll work out shifts.
Noelle:
She won’t be alone. Hell, the Pembrooke Books ladies will practically fall over themselves to get a few hours; they’re all empty nesters.
Tears sting my eyes as guilt floods me. I’m intruding. This is their world, their generosity, their resources. I shouldn’t even be reading this.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, voice trembling as Claudia finally lowers the phone and looks at me knowingly.
She doesn’t scold me. Of course, she doesn’t. She just smiles softly. “They care, and so do I. We have a huge house with plenty of room.”
I nod, wiping my cheeks quickly. “I shouldn’t have looked. I…”
“You’re allowed to see that people want to help,” she interrupts kindly.
I swallow hard and shake my head. “You can tell them… tell them I’m grateful. But they don’t have to do that. I can’t just take someone’s home.”
Claudia’s eyes soften. “You’re not taking anything. They’re offering because they understand what this means.”
I glance at the glowing phone in her hands, more messages pouring in.
Then it hits me.
“You should tell them I’m not even sure.”
Claudia squeezes my hand and types quickly, relaying everything back to the women who are already rearranging their lives for a child they’ve never met, simply because she’s mine.
