The woman laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s what the straps are for.”
Karen envied her easy manner. “You sound a lot more experienced than me.”
“Perhaps on stroller pushing. Dan gets colic so we walk a lot. We’re on our way to the new mom’s group.” She pointed at the building farther down the street. “You must be Karen.”
Karen’s heart began to pound again. How did this woman know her name? Recently arrived in Kurnai Bay from Melbourne, she wasn’t used to her neighbors knowing her name, let alone a complete stranger.
But the woman didn’t seem to notice Karen’s unease. “I’m Hilary van den Berg. It’s great to meet you. Eileen said you were joining our group. I made you a welcome casserole four days ago, though it turns out the hardest part isn’t the cooking, but actually getting into the car to deliver it to you.” The woman leaned in conspiratorially. “If Eileen asks about it, can you tell her you got it? I promise Ken will drop it over to you tonight.”
Hilary’s rapid-fire speech generated so many questions, Karen didn’t know where to start. Granted, she was sleep deprived and she and Peter had spoken to a parade of realtors, tradesmen and utility providers during the previous ten days, but she was certain she hadn’t met an Eileen.
“Who’s Eileen?”
“The health center nurse.” Hilary laughed. “I’m not surprised you can’t remember who’s who. With twins, you must have double baby brain.”
“Something like that,” Karen said faintly. Most days she had no idea if she was coming or going.
“Twins have always been my secret wish.” Hilary stroked her own baby’s head. “I’ll never tell Dan, but I was disappointed when I found out I was only cooking him. You’re so lucky!”
Karen winced. Luck was such an arbitrary event—one person’s luck was too often another person’s misfortune, but she couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t dwell on the heartache and regrets. Her focus must be her daughters and creating opportunities for them both to thrive.
“I thought I was only having one baby right up until two minutes after I delivered Libby.”
Hilary’s eyes widened. “Crikey! Have you gotten over the shock yet?”
Karen thought about the rollercoaster ride of the last nine weeks, including the unexpected move. “Not really.”
“Can I peek?”
Apparently, it was a rhetorical question, because before Karen could say a word, Hilary was pushing back the stroller covers and peering in.
“Oh, Karen,” she breathed. “They’re gorgeous. What are their names?”
“Libby’s the eldest and she’s under the lemon-colored blanket.”
As if Libby knew she was being discussed, her blue eyes popped open, her lips widened into a beatific smile and then she gurgled.
“Aren’t you a bright spark,” Hilary cooed. “You look like you know what you want.”
Karen thought anxiously about Libby’s intensity—she was either in a fury or laughing in delight. “She knows what she likes and dislikes.”
“It’s a bit scary the way they arrive with their own distinct personalities. I wasn’t expecting that. I thought I’d have more of an influence in molding Dan’s character but after six months of motherhood, I’m already wondering if parents have any say in their children’s personality.”
Karen’s gut churned. “Of course we have a say. We must have a say!”
Hilary blinked, momentarily startled by the emphatic response. “Let’s hope you’re right and I’m wrong, because right now, Dan thinks all he has to do in life is bat his baby blues and everyone will drop everything and come running.” She turned her attention to the second twin. “And who’s this cutie?”
“Alice. She’s our precious surprise.” Unlike Libby, Alice didn’t stir, although her eyes roved under her almost translucent lids.
Hilary glanced at Karen; unasked questions clear in her eyes. “She’s a lot smaller than her sister.”
“Yes.” Karen left it at that as a familiar guilt pulled tightly around her. It was her fault Alice had failed to thrive.
The pediatrician’s words were never far away: “With such a low birth weight, there’s a high risk of developmental delay.”
“Do you mean brain damage?” Her husband, Peter had asked the question Karen had been too scared to voice.
“I’m constantly surprised by the remarkable resilience of the human body,” the doctor said. “The fact Alice is alive is a miracle in itself. The best thing you can do is take her home and love her.”
Karen slipped her finger against Alice’s palm, welcoming the tight and reassuring grip of her tiny hand. Once again, she silently made the promise she’d made each day for weeks.
I’ll make things better, Alice. I’ll keep you safe and protect you. Always.
Chapter One
January
Alice Hunter sneezed into her shoulder three times and then, despite the warm summer day, shivered. It was a sure sign she was sick. These were the moments when she missed being a kid.
When she was growing up, her mother had strict rules about illness and one of Karen’s favorite sayings had been, “If you can stand and argue with me about going to school, you’re well enough to go.” Many times, Alice had reluctantly stuffed her bag with books and stomped out the door. But whenever Alice had spiked a temperature, Karen had always tucked her up in bed and fed her chicken soup.
“Table seven.” Jake, the chef and owner of the restaurant, slid hot plates onto the pass-through and frowned. “You look like crap. Don’t give whatever it is to the customers.”
“Gee, thanks. And here I was thinking you might make me some immune boosting soup.”
“You’re lucky I’m not making you work a double shift.”
Not for the first time, Alice wondered how the life she’d envisioned for herself had come to this. Despite her best laid plans, she was back in Kurnai Bay, living in her childhood home and working four part-time jobs. Waitressing during the summer crush was the worst of them.
Alice carried the pasta bowl and the fish plate
