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stay with us,” she said, smiling, “but I don’t know where we’d put you. Bathtub, maybe?”
    I smiled back at her, thinking of the tiny, one-bedroom apartment she shared with her boyfriend. “You think Michael would mind?”
    She snorted. “He’s so focused on applying for summer internships, he probably wouldn’t even notice.”
    “He just graduated,” I pointed out.
    “I know, but the competition is fierce for museum internships. And he needs a job.” She took a sip of her watery iced tea. “You know his father isn’t going to help us out with money.”
    I nodded again, remembering how mad his father had been two years ago when Michael transferred colleges after his sophomore year so he could move back home and be with Taylor. He was even more furious when Michael and Taylor moved in together last year, and then he damn near blew a gasket a few months ago, when Michael purposely missed the deadline to apply to law school and announced his plan to go for his Master’s in History instead. His father wanted him to be a lawyer, like him, but Michael wanted to be an archivist. Hence the museum internship.
    “I’m sure his mom would slip him some money,” I said, balling up my napkin. “Or your parents.”
    She shook her head. “We want to make it on our own.”
    I placed my hand on my heart in an aw, how sweet gesture. They were so cute, it was borderline nauseating. I couldn’t imagine being with the same person for four and a half years without wanting to smother him in his sleep, but Taylor and Michael were perfect for each other. Meant to be. I’d known it from the first moment I saw them together, back in junior year of high school.
    “I should probably go,” I said a few minutes later. “My lunch hour is almost up and my boss will strangle me if I’m even a second late getting back.” This was speculation on my part, but Wade still hadn’t completely forgiven me for Friday and I didn’t want to test his tolerance.
    We left our cozy spot by the window and headed outside to where Taylor’s car was parked along the curb.
    “Let’s get together this weekend,” she said, squinting against the bright sun as she looked up at me. I’d always towered over her, and she envied my height in the same way my barely-B-cup chest envied her curves. “Go out for dinner or something. You can bring the twins if…” She didn’t finish her thought, but she didn’t have to. The unspoken words hung in the brisk spring air between us.
    “Sure,” I said, leaning in to hug her good-bye. She hugged me back, tighter and longer than usual, then pulled back and looked me firmly in the eyes.
    “I take back what I said before,” she told me. “You can do this, Robin. You’re doing it already.”
    I gave her a grateful smile. Until right that second, I had no idea how desperately I’d needed to hear those words.
     
    * * *
     
    I didn’t have to pick the kids up at daycare until five, so when I got off work that afternoon at three, I decided to take advantage of those two free hours and do something I hadn’t done in months.
    Margins Bookstore was located in the north end of the city, tucked between a nail salon and an organic bakery. Like most of the stores on the street, it was small and independently-owned. I liked it mainly because of its peaceful atmosphere. Last fall, I’d taken to hanging out in the Biographies and Memoirs section, where there was a cozy little nook with a couch to sit on when you got tired of browsing for books. I’d spent hours on that threadbare, olive-green couch, studying or flipping through magazines or just enjoying the warmth and quiet. It relaxed me.
    Now, as I drove down the traffic-clogged streets, I recalled the ear-splitting pitch of Lila’s shriek this morning when I refused to let her go to daycare wearing a Hello Kitty nightgown and purple rain boots. Peace and quiet were more than welcome right now, and so was caffeine.
    After grabbing a cup of coffee and a