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“I’ll look in on her periodically,” Mrs. Matthews said. “You look after the baby. You know now how to prepare her bottle, so you’ll be the one to go up and down the stairs.”

Adelle was set up beside our bed on my side. The first time she cried, Arden woke with a start and groaned. “I should have left you downstairs until she sleeps through the night,” he said. “I have to have my sleep. It’s important that I’m alert at the brokerage, and I get up so early.”

“I’m sorry, Arden.” I thought for a moment and then said, “Maybe for a while, it would be better if I slept with Sylvia and the baby slept in her room with us.”

“Yes,” he said instantly, jumping on the suggestion. “While you get the bottle prepared, I’ll move the bassinet and Adelle in there. Brilliant.”

As I headed for the stairs, Mrs. Matthews stepped out of her room in her robe and slippers. “What’s the problem?” she asked.

I told her our plan and what had caused the changes.

“My husband was the same way when our son was born,” she said. “I’ve never doubted that men are the weaker sex. Go on. I’ll help him.”

She headed for our bedroom, and I went down to the kitchen.

I guessed it would be true, I thought. It would be as if Adelle was both Sylvia’s and mine, rather than just mine. I fed her in Sylvia’s room, and she fell asleep again.

I felt exhausted, too, and was happy to lower my head to the pillow. I fell asleep in minutes, and when the sun burst in, I was shocked at how long I had slept. My first thoughts were of Sylvia. I got up quickly to get the day started. She’d barely noticed I was there. She looked dazed.

“How are you, Sylvia?” I asked, and her eyes lit with a happy glow.

“Our baby Adelle,” she said, sitting up.

Mrs. Matthews appeared in the doorway, dressed. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Maybe I’ll be leaving sooner than we thought,” she said. She looked at Adelle, still sleeping. Then she took Sylvia’s blood pressure and her temperature while I got up and dressed.

“How is she?” I asked.

“She’s doing fine. You’ll bring up her breakfast this morning, but tomorrow I want her downstairs for all her meals. She can do a little walking later.”

“Watch Adelle,” I told Sylvia.

She nodded excitedly. Then I followed Mrs. Matthews down to the kitchen. Arden had apparently left more than an hour ago.

“I can make Sylvia’s breakfast,” I said.

Mrs. Matthews paused and smiled. “You can do everything, Audrina, but for now, concentrate on the baby only.”

I wasn’t in the mood to argue. I told myself this wouldn’t go on much longer anyway. You were patient and tolerant up to now. Hang on a little longer, Audrina Lowe.

Sylvia grew stronger with every passing day. Oddly, the memory of what she had gone through seemed to drift, replaced with what she believed I had gone through. Mrs. Matthews was right about Sylvia’s swollen breasts. The leakage frightened her, and she felt the pressure and discomfort for nearly ten days after the delivery. Mrs. Matthews bought a better bra for her to wear during this time and had her use some ice packs.

Mrs. Matthews was out and about more now. I took on my usual household duties, and as Sylvia grew stronger and felt better, she returned to some of her chores as if she had never stopped doing them. Most of the time, the two of us cared for Adelle and talked about every slight change we saw in her.

Arden often called during the day to be sure all was going well. He had dinner with clients only twice during the ten days after Adelle’s birth. His interest in the baby amazed me. It seemed he couldn’t wait to get home to see her and be sure all was well. Never once did he mention what had happened to Sylvia. I thought this was wonderful of him. He now cared more about her, talked to her more, and enjoyed how much she enjoyed Adelle. He even willingly had Mr. Ralph help him bring the rocking chair up to Sylvia’s room.

“It’s all turned out for the best,” he said one night. “We have seized disaster from the jaws of the devil himself. I’m very proud of you, Audrina. We could never have done this without your full cooperation and determination. I imagine even your father would be proud of us, don’t you?”

“No. He would never forgive me for what I let happen, Arden. I don’t think I can ever fully forgive myself. I can live with this, but I don’t believe that I’ve compensated enough for my mistake.”

“Oh, stuff that guilt, Audrina. You and your family have this tendency to hold on to every mistake any of you make forever and ever. Depressing and self-­defeating. Listen to the advice Mrs. Matthews gave you.”

The next morning, when I got up and went to prepare Adelle’s bottle, I found Mrs. Matthews dressed and wearing her

coat. Her small suitcase was at her feet. She was having a cup of coffee. At dinner, she had said nothing about leaving.