Days go by in the strange zone that’s known as hospital time, where the meals are served according to a schedule but you can still lose track of what day of the week it is. I spend my time shuttling between the hospital and Bee’s house, bringing things they didn’t think to pack, getting food from their favorite places, and generally being…useful.

After my year with Sandra, it seems unthinkable to sit down and do nothing.

So I do everything I can think of.

Aside from the first day, Bee is a post-op champion and so in love with her daughters that I cry when I see that, too. The nurses wheel her carefully down to the NICU and she and Dex take turns holding the babies up on their chests. My gorgeous sister cannot get enough of them, or her husband.

“Look!” she says to him over and over, her delight filling the room. “Look at what we did, Dex!”

“Don’t give me any credit,” he says, and laughs. “You did most of the work.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I wouldn’t have done it with anyone but you.”

“Uh, guys,” I say, teasing. “There are other people in the room, and we’re all about to be sick.”

A nearby nurse gives me a look. “You keep being in love, honey,” she says to Bee. “It’s the best thing for you.”

The days go by, and despite all the medical drama surrounding birth, the twins don’t need to stay in the hospital. They’re discharged the same day as Bee, who has been under observation for longer than the usual period. I don’t understand exactly what happened to her, and I’m positive I don’t want to look it up online.

I’m the one who drives Dex and Bee’s car home from the hospital so they can both sit in the back, oohing and aahing over the babies the entire time.

“You’re the perfect Gabriella,” says Bee to one of the twins. “Nobody could be a better Gabriella than you.”

“Did you know? This is the perfect Isabel!” says Dex, and in the rearview mirror I see him steal a kiss from his wife.

My stomach clenches.

We pull into the driveway and I help them unload their bags, stowing everything carefully in its place, and bring them a tray of snacks that I got from the store while they were waiting to be discharged.

Bee snuggles up on one end of the couch, Dex on the other, both of them holding a perfect, tiny baby.

I’m the fifth wheel.

“Well,” I say, putting my hands in my pockets. “Is there anything else you guys need?”

Bee gives me a huge, tired smile. “I think you’ve given us everything there is, Cate. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Okay,” I say, fighting back the urge to cry. I want to stay with them, but I know it’s only because there is a huge, painful wound in my life where Jax used to be. “Call if you need anything. I’m always available to babysit.”

Bee leans her head back against the armrest and closes her eyes against the afternoon sunlight. “You’re the best, Cate. When are you heading back to New York?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” I tell her, not realizing until I say it that it’s true. Without Basiqué—without Jax—what do I have in New York aside from an expensive apartment I can no longer afford and friendships that I’ve long since let lapse? “But I’ll keep my cell on. Doesn’t matter if it’s late.” That’s something that Bee and I have said to each other over the years, even if we don’t take advantage of it much.

“Doesn’t matter,” Bee says, opening her eyes and smiling at me again. “Go get some rest. At least you can!”

The soft sounds of their voices follow me out the door, and then I’m standing on the sidewalk in the gentle summer heat.

Where to now?

I’ll start with my parents. I’ve been so busy the past few days—the past few months—that I haven’t had a lot of time to visit. I send the same text to both of their phones.

My mom is out with her friends, my dad writes to me, and then she’ll be going over to Bee’s house, but he’s free for dinner and a beer.

* * *

My dad meets me at a sports bar in downtown Beechford, where Dex and Bee live. We grew up in Winthrop Harbor, which isn’t far. I could drive my rental car there, no problem, but he insists on coming to me. My hotel is down the block from the restaurant—it doesn’t make sense for me to drive. I’ve done enough, he says.

Twenty minutes later, he slides into the booth across from me and grasps my hands in his. “You’re an incredible woman, Cate.”

My dad’s voice unlocks something in me, and everything comes rushing out of me all at once. Well…almost everything.

“…and I got fired from my job. I don’t work at Basiqué anymore.” A few tears spill onto my cheeks.

Dad waves his hand in the air and takes another bite of his burger. “It’s a job.”

“A job?” My voice shrills high enough to make me sound absolutely ridiculous.

“Of course, Cate. It’s not the end of the world. And this guy—Jock?”

“Jax.”

“He sounds like he cares about you. Maybe he’s a little pretentious, but what rich guy isn’t? That job was killing you anyway.”

“‘That job’ was going to be my ticket to some security in life, Dad. You of all people should know how important that is.”

He puts down his burger and stares me in the eye.

“Cate, you’re as smart as they come, but I’m going to tell you this anyway. There’s no such thing as a guarantee.”

“But you—”

“Circumstances happened with my career that I couldn’t plan for, and in other ways I didn’t plan enough. But I’m all right! I’m still here, aren’t I?”

I nod, my throat tight. “I don’t want that to happen to me.”

My dad laughs out loud. “Oh, Cate, my favorite Cate in all the world. That’s not going to happen to you. You schedule out date nights, for God’s sake. You’re going to be fine.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“There aren’t any guarantees, but I know—I know, Cate—that you could stand to worry less. Plan a little bit of your life out, if you want, but I think you might have learned the wrong lesson from how I went into retirement.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did. The important thing isn’t to invest your life in your job.”

“It’s not?”

“No. The important thing—” He reaches across the table and pats my hand, giving me a grin. “—It’s always the people, Cate. People that love you. People that you love. No job can compete with that.”