Page 79 of Parker

Suddenly, I get the shock of my life when the front door opens, without a knock or the sound of the doorbell. I’m about to grab a knife to defend me and Wren from the intruder when I hear Parker’s voice call out.

“Harp? Where you at? I’m here!”

She steps into her sister’s house, shaking snow from her parka.

“Parker? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Quinn? Oh my god!” She jumps a foot, then places her hand over her heart. “What the—What the heck areyoudoing here?”

I put my hands on my hips. “Babysitting! At Harper’s request! What are you doing here?”

“Babysitting,” she says, blinking at me, as her cheeks flush a deep rose. “Also at Harper’s request.”

“An Pow-koo!”

Wren calls to her aunt from her busy-seat, clapping her tiny hands in glee.

“Hey, babycakes!” says Parker, shifting her attention from me to her niece. She lifts Wren from her activity-seat, holding her over her head and kissing her all over her face. “Oh, you just had a bath, and you smell so good! I missed you!”

Niece and aunt grin at one another for a long moment, the love between them so strong and so real, something inside of me swells with longing. I go back to the bottle warmer, which dings softly to let me know it’s ready. I wrap it in a dishcloth, then join Parker and Wren in the living room.

“I think we were set up,” I say, drinking in the sight of her after two long weeks apart.

“Looks like it,” she says, focusing all of her attention on Wren, though her cheeks are still pink, and I can tell that she’s nervous.

“Want to do the bottle?” I ask her.

“Absolutely. It’s my favorite part of the day.”

“Let’s go.”

As Parker settles herself in the rocking chair with baby Wren, I dim the nursery lights and put on the sound machine as instructed. Then I stand in the doorway and watch as the love of my life gives her niece milk before bed. And no matter what happens between me and Parker, I know, in my soul, that this will be one of my most favorite memories of all time. The tenderness of what I’m seeing almost hurts, in fact, because it parallels so closely what I want so terribly with Parker someday…and may never have.

Wren falls asleep on Parker’s shoulder after a loud and lusty belch.

“Can you take her?” Parker whispers, looking up at me.

I nod, gently easing sleeping Wren from her aunt’s lap and placing her on her stomach in her crib. She sighs softly, lifting her little butt and putting her cheek on the mattress. Parker stands over her, stroking her back once or twice before backing away.

I snag the empty bottle and burp cloth from the arm of the rocking chair, switch the monitor on, then follow Parker out of the room.

She’s standing in the living room, arms crossed over her chest, when I join her.

“Hey,” I say, standing in the hallway that connects the living room to the bedrooms.

“Hi,” she says, her voice shy.

“It’s good to see you.”

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“You, too,” she says, still standing awkwardly in her sister’s living room.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m glad to see you.”

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