clothes, or my choices. I wanted to know whether she could simply respect me.
The silver key went into my purse.
“Then I will tell her myself,” I said.
At eleven forty, Vivian was standing on our front porch with a bakery box in one hand and her purse tucked under her arm.
She looked past me through the open door toward the nursery.
“Those shelves are already full,” she said.
“They are.”
She stepped closer without waiting to be invited inside.
I moved a stack of folded onesies from the entry bench. “The babies have enough clothes for now.”
Vivian smiled at the nursery.
“Leo will need more than you think.”
“Luna too.”
She turned back to me. “Of course. I only mean Leo has the Sterling family name to carry.”
I folded a tiny white shirt and set it on the stack.
“Both children have the Sterling name.”
