“I’m still her therapist,” he finally said. “I’m not treating her, but I know her and am deeply familiar with her case. I can tell you that she’ll always be welcome in our home and in Olive’s life. We plan to be entirely honest with Olive when she’s old enough to understand.”
Lynda finally opened the folder. “Thank you for your candor,” she said, picking up her pen to mark something on what looked like a checklist. “Now, tell me?—”
The question was interrupted by Olive’s wee voice coming over the baby monitor.
“Tess-Tess?”
Tessa felt her whole being change, and didn’t bother to try and hide her smile. The sound shot a joy through her she couldn’t describe.
“Excuse me,” she said, already on her feet. “My heart is awake.”
She heard Lynda chuckle softly behind her.
Outside, in the September sun, she took the side stairs two at a time. The Gulf stretched beyond her, wide and deceptively calm, with that hard pewter line on the horizon, a storm beyond their visibility.
Her own hurricane brewed in her heart. Hurricane Lynda. She looked calm, quiet, and nothing like a cat five, but that woman had so muchpower.
Upstairs, Olive had stayed in her toddler bed, as Tessa had trained her to do. Her hair was a wild halo of curls, and she had her pink stuffed flamingo in a chokehold, blinking at Tessa with a mix of outrage—What took so long?—and relief.
“Olive Oyl.” Tessa scooped her up, fully aware that every word spoken could be heard by Lynda. Didn’t matter. Nothing would change. “Why are you so beautiful, my princess?”
“Tess-Tess.”
“Yes, baby.”
“Wingo.” Olive shoved the flamingo at Tessa’s face.
“Hello, Wingo.” Tessa kissed Olive’s head, then the stuffed animal, whose name had migrated from Flamingo to Mingo to Wingo, where it currently stayed.
“Tess-Tess.” She flopped her head on Tessa’s shoulder.
“Baby girl.” Tessa pressed her face into the sweet scent of Olive’s neck, the smell of sleep and warm cotton, and felt something in her chest unclench a quarter of an inch.
“Guess what? A nice lady is here to meet you. That’s the good news. The bad? We’re out of blueberries.”
A little lower lip stuck out, then her whole sweet face broke into a smile. “Cheewios?”
Oh, dear. She probably shouldn’t eat those. She glanced at the monitor. “How about a nice sugar-free banana?”
“Gol’ fish?”
Yikes. “Come on, you little mercenary. There’s a banana waiting for you.”
“Nana!” She giggled, somehow so smart she could play games already.
“Let’s go.” Tessa smoothed her hair and checked her Pull-Up. “Let’s stop in the potty like a big girl and then meet Miss Lynda and show her what our best behavior looks like.”
Best behavior was flexible, but Olive woke up happy after a nap, so Tessa felt confident as she carried her down the outside stairs, letting the salt air clear her head. When she walked in, Lynda and Dusty were laughing about something.
That was good.
“Honey, this is Miss Lynda.”
Olive stared at her and walked into the living room, slowly but with interest.
“Hello, Olive,” Lynda said. “How was your nap?”
She walked right up to Lynda and held her hand to the woman’s face. “Pwetty.”
