Page 66 of Gabriel's Angel

“You don’t need a degree to give support.”

“No.” She looked at the card on the table as the idea took root. “I don’t know. I...”

“Just think about it.”

“Amanda, did you go to the clinic?”

“Yes, Cliff and I went there yesterday. We were very impressed.”

“Why did you go?”

Amanda lifted a brow in a gesture Laura knew Gabe had inherited. “Because there’s someone we both care about who we wanted to understand better. Don’t get up,” she said as she rose. “I’ll let myself out. Give Gabe my love and tell him his father wants to know if they’re ever going to play poker again. The man thrives on losing money.”

“Amanda.” Laura pushed off her shoes before she curled her legs up in the chair. “I never had a mother, and the one I always imagined for myself was nothing like you.” She smiled as her eyes began to close. “I’m not at all disappointed.”

“You’re coming along,” Amanda said, and left Laura sleeping in the chair.

She was still there when Gabe came in. He tilted the bulky package against the wall. When she didn’t stir at the rattle of the paper, he walked over to the couch. He didn’t even have the energy to wish for his sketch pad as he stretched out his legs and almost instantly fell asleep.

The baby woke both of them. Gabe merely groaned and pulled a throw pillow over his face. Disoriented, Laura pulled herself up, blinked groggily at Gabe, then put one foot in front of the other to get upstairs.

A short time later, he went up after her.

“My timing’s good,” he decided when he saw that Laura was fastening a fresh diaper.

“I’m beginning to wonder about your timing.” But she was smiling as she lifted Michael over her head to make him laugh. “How long have you been home?”

“Long enough to see that my wife has nothing better to do than lounge around all day.” He plucked Michael from her while she pretended to glare at him. “Do you think if we kept him awake and exhausted him with attention he’d sleep tonight?”

“I’m willing to try anything.”

At that, Gabe sat on the floor and began to play nonsense games. Bouncing the Baby, Flying the Baby, Tickling the Baby.

“You’re so good with him.” Finding her second wind, Laura sat on the floor with them. “It’s hard to believe you’re new at this.”

“I never thought about parenthood. It certainly has its compensations.” He set Michael on his knee and jiggled him.

“Like walking the ten-minute mile at 2:00 a.m.”

“That, too.”

“Gabe, your mother came by.”

“Should I be surprised?”

She smiled a little as she leaned over to let Michael tug at her hair. “She left a card—from an abuse clinic.”

“I see.” He reached over himself to untangle her hair from Michael’s grip. “Do you want to go back into therapy?”

“No... at least I don’t think so.” She looked over at him. Michael was chewing madly at his chin. All the therapy she needed was sitting across from her. “She suggested I might like to volunteer there.”

He frowned as he let Michael gnaw on his knuckle. “And be reminded day after day?”

“Yes—of what I was able to change.”

“I thought you’d want to go back to modeling eventually.”

“No, I haven’t any desire to go back to modeling. I think I could do this, and I know I’d like to try.”

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