Chapter 24

The rest of the morning is uneventful. I see Ned briefly before he takes off for work. He’s tired and grumpy, and we exchange very few words. Platitudes like “Have a good day.” “You too.” “Love you.” “The same.” With a quick peck on my cheek as if it was an afterthought, he’s out the door.

Nurse Marley spends the morning with Isa. And now she’s got this new contraption buckled around her—a quilted lavender harness that matches the color of her eyes—with my baby tucked inside it, her back to me. Isa’s tiny legs dangle from the apertures and her head rests against a foam rubber support.

Every step Marley takes, my baby is pressed against her like they’re one.

It makes me nervous. “Can’t she fall out of that thing?” I ask.

Marley tightens the straps and laughs. “Absolutely not! This is the best baby carrier on the market. It’s got hundreds of five-star ratings. Moms love it! It’s super comfortable and lets them move around with their baby, hands-free. And babies love it, too, because they feel so secure snuggled next to their mothers. It’s great for mother-baby bonding.”

She gives Isa a little jiggle as a snippet of jealousy niggles at me.

Maybe I should get one (or already have one somewhere inside the garage), I think, as Marley prances around the kitchen tidying up with my baby attached to her like an appendage. Shouldn’t Isa be bonding with me…her real mother?

“Marley, can you send me the link to the carrier? I’d love to get one.”

“Of course, Ava. But you’re in no condition to wear it or carry around your baby like this just yet. It’ll aggravate your PGP and you should wait until your incision heals.”

My shoulders sag. “Right.”

It takes no time for Nurse Marley to tidy up, and upon loading the final plate into the dishwasher, she announces she’s going to take Isa for a walk in her new carrier.

My heart sinks. “Be careful. And have fun.”

I wish it were me going with my baby for a stroll.

I pass the rest of the morning alone, figuring out my meaningless day. After a long walk, Marley reappears with my rosy-cheeked daughter. She looks full of color too.

“How was it?” I ask.

“Wonderful! We went halfway up Runyon Canyon.”

“The one with all the dogs?”

Marley nods. “Yes. So many people stopped me and told me what a beautiful baby I have.”

I bristle at her words. As if Isa is her baby?

“Where’s your mother?” she asks, stopping me from saying something I might regret. I’m probably just overreacting. My hormones are likely still out of whack.

“I think she’s still asleep.” It’s not unusual for my mother to sleep until noon. Honestly, the longer the better. The less I have to deal with her.

“Then, I’ll be quiet. I’m going to put Isa down in her crib for a nap while I do some light housework. I really want to do some laundry. Your hampers are overflowing, and I’m running out of clean onesies.”

Letting her have a head start, I follow her to my bedroom. Maybe my mother’s right, after all. I need to pull myself together. For the sake of my husband. For the sake of my baby. And for the sake of my family.

Dressed in some old sweats and a hoodie, just about the only things that fit my still overweight body, I relax in the living room on the couch, too spooked to use the recliner on account of my horrible dream. I want to get rid of it.

My mother still asleep and Isa napping, Nurse Marley attacks the laundry. One load after another. We haven’t done any laundry since Rosita left us and that was almost two weeks ago, so you can only imagine. By the third load, she’s run out of detergent. She wants to run to Whole Foods to get a baby-safe, allergen-free brand that’s sold there. And while she’s at the health-conscious supermarket, she’ll pick up more formula and some other bare necessities. Using the credit card Ned gave her.

She leaves the baby monitor on the coffee table in the living room. Shortly after she drives off, the intercom buzzes. I’m not expecting anyone. Maybe it’s a delivery from Amazon? Or Instacart? Nurse Marley generally shops online to save time and to not have to leave the house. I don’t recognize the khaki-green 4x4 at the gate on my phone’s surveillance app. Shoving myself off the couch, I walk stiffly to the intercom by the front door to find out who’s there.

No answer. A frightening thought flashes into my head. I shudder.

What if it’s that armed and dangerous home invader who’s been terrorizing the Hollywood Hills? The one I heard about on the news last week attacked in broad daylight. To the best of my knowledge, they haven’t caught him. And didn’t they say neighbors saw the suspect drive off in a green Jeep?

Fear rushes over me.

I’m all alone with my baby.