“I’m pregnant.”

Who the hell decided to give a plastic, urine soaked stick this type of absolute power?

No warning. No preparation. Not even a cushion to slide under your ass once you read the results.

“Pregnant.”

Oh God. It sounded like such a horrible word. Ugly almost. Like it was defined only by swollen feet and stretch marks.

Why didn’t the little plastic prophet come with a better word than pregnant?

Like…expecting? Or family? Or…

Miracle?

Pregnant.

We were having a baby.

“Well…?” His voice melted every part of me. The anticipation.

His hope.

“Yes.” I stared only at the test. “We did it.”

“Wow.” His arms crossed over my belly, and his kiss tickled my neck. “I was hoping we could try some more.”

“We can do even better.” I placed my hand over his. “We can celebrate.”

As usual, I didn’t see the man in my memories.

Just heard his voice. Felt his touch.

Missed him with every damn beat of my heart.

It was getting harder now. Harder to ignore. Harder to be alone. Harder to think about.

And so I didn’t. I paced the living room and checked my phone for the tenth time in a minute.

Where the hell was he?

The knock came five minutes too late. I flung the door open and hauled Shepard into the apartment.

“Evie, what the hell is going on?”

His shirt was unbuttoned. He tripped over untied shoes, and he brushed his hair with only his fingers. Apparently, my call woke him up at six in the morning.

So why the hell did it take him fifteen minutes to get here?

“Are you okay?” He stopped in the entryway. “You said it was an emergency?”

I tugged on his hand, dragging him down the hall. “I’m sorry, but I needed your help. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“What’s wrong?”

He must have read the terror on my face. “Jesus, is it Clue?”

He bolted to the nursery and dove at the crib. Clue wiggled inside, bundled up tight in her blanket. His fingers clutched the crib, but he shook his head.

“Evie, she’s fine? What’s wrong?”

“Wait.” I held a hand out. “Just wait.”

Shepard stared at Clue. She stared back.

“Just wait,” I whispered.

The poor thing. Maybe she was too hot now?

I had no freaking idea what to do.

“Evie—”

“Wait.” I listened, hard. “Just…wait…wait…”

“Wait for…what?”

She was going to make a liar out of me.

It didn’t matter. I’d heard it. All night. And my heart hadn’t stopped racing.

“Evie, I think you need to—”

Aschoo!

I gripped my chest over my heart. “Did you hear it?”

Shepard paused. “Was that a…sneeze?”

“Or a cough!”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know!”

“Evie.”

“She’s sick!”

Shepard nudged the blanket and pillow tangled on the floor next to the crib. “Did you…sleep in here?”

“Figured it out without even dusting for prints?”

“You don’t think that was a bit drastic?”

“I know what you’re going to say, but I am not crazy. I had her monitor up to my ear all night just to listen to her breathe. She was so congested and kept making that little coughing, snorty, grunty sound. It scared the hell out of me. Then, suddenly, I didn’t hear her making it anymore. I panicked—”

“Evie.”

“So I camped out on the floor, and—”

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Do I ever?” I bit my lip. “I’m really worried.”

“She sneezed once. If it was even a sneeze.” Shepard cradled Clue against his chest. His voice softened as he spoke to her. “We don’t even know if it was a sneeze. Might have been a cough. Might have been a—”

Ahshoo!

He stilled. His hand rubbed over her tummy, but he stopped and listened hard. “I think she might be congested.”

“Oh God.”

“That was a sneeze,” he said.

“Oh no.”

“She might be sick.”

My world collapsed.

Nightmares of rogue ice cream trucks faded.

I pinched my eyes shut. The night before last, a knife in the dishwasher had triggered a memory. The flash of steel. Some punk juvie reject stealing my purse for drug money.

Like I didn’t know to keep my cash and phone on my body.

Still, in that moment, I had been scared. But even a mugging wasn’t as terrifying as those four words.

She might be sick.

I grabbed the baby and marched to the bathroom. He followed, but I pointed him to the papers stacked on my kitchen counter.

“Doctor Reece. He’s the pediatrician. Call and tell him I’m coming.”

Shepard made a mistake. “I think you have to get an appointment first…”

I wasn’t listening. I turned the shower on full-blast, letting the scalding water pebble the empty tub. The steam filled the room with a moist heat.

“Tell them the baby is sick,” I said. “I demand to see the doctor.”

“She’s got a cold.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s a baby. And she’s sneezing. It’s a cold.”

“You can’t be sure.”

He sighed. “What else would it be?”

The wrong question to ask an under-fed, exhausted, worried mother. “Who knows? She’s sneezing. Coughing. Congested. It could be anything.”

“Like a cold,” he said.

“Meningitis.”

“The sniffles.”

“The flu.”

“A stuffy nose.”

“Zika!”

“Zika?”

“It’s on the news.”

He groaned. “She doesn’t have Zika!”

“Malaria then.”

“Evie.”

“West Nile!”

He rubbed the exhaustion from his face. “I can guarantee you—she does not have a mosquito born illness.” He shrugged. “Though we shouldn’t rule out kuru…”

“Oh god.”

“Relax. I’m joking…unless you’re feeding her a healthy dose of brains.”

I scowled. “We’ll see what happens when I kick your a-s-s for scaring me.”

“She’s going to be fine.”

“Please call the doctor for me.”

I held his gaze.

God, I had missed those eyes. The sun-bleached blonde streak in his hair. The confident angle of his chin. When he spoke, he convinced me that everything would be fine.

“I’ll call,” he said. “Try to relax.”

I closed the door and let the shower steam up the room. I kissed Clue’s forehead. Uh-oh. Did she feel hot? Or was that morning baby head feel? She always ran a little toasty. But this? This might have been more than toast. Maybe a bake? Less than a broil.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I whispered to her. She stared up at me. No smiles today, and I always got a smile now. Since I’d lost Shepard’s, hers were the only comfort I had.

“We’ll get you fixed up.”

I hoped.

I had been without memories for almost six weeks.

I’d been struck by an untimely ice cream truck. Given birth. Been handed a newborn. Sent out into the world on my own, relying on the charity of others.

And a single sniffle terrified me more than any forgotten past or missing future.

The bathroom steamed up, and I hoped the humidity would both help her congestion and freshen me up. The woman gazing back at me in the mirror wasn’t anyone I knew. She cradled a baby in her arms with curly hair begging for a headband and an expression of resolute exhaustion. She meant nothing to me, but the little baby looked at her as if she were the greatest thing in the world.

Clue snuggled against me, comforted and warm, but dribbling a little something gross from her nose. The heat helped her, but I wasn’t satisfied.

This little baby was the only link I had to who I was, where I was going, what I was even doing on this planet. I couldn’t let anything harm her, not even a cold.

Shepard rapped on the door.

I didn’t care how uncomfortable it was for me to see him. I ignored the ache when I looked at him and the shame that lashed at me for daring to feel anything but gratitude towards him.

“The office said they could squeeze you in, but we might have to wait.”

“That’s fine.” I swallowed. Now for the moment of truth. “Can I…could you give us a ride?”

Shepard stood a gentlemanly three feet from me. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“It’s for the baby.”

“And believe me, I’d do anything for her.” His eyebrows rose. “But, Evie…”

That moment of soul-crushing hesitation was all I needed. “You’re right. Never mind. I’ll take the bus.”

“Absolutely not “I’ll call the station—tell them I’ll be late. It’s no problem.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not going to let you do this alone.” He smirked. “Besides, if the doctor says you’re overreacting, someone should be there to restrain you.”

“I am not overreacting.”

He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Take it out on the doctor, not me. Let’s get her bundled up and hit the road.”

Good enough for me. We spent a good ten minutes soaking in the bathroom’s humidity before I felt that she was decongested enough to risk the trip. I packed her diaper bag, changed her, and wrapped her up in two layers and a blanket. Clue fussed a bit, but aside from a more defined sneeze, she seemed okay, especially in her first car ride.

“This will be the only time you’ll ever sit in a patrol car,” I told her. “Even undercover.”

Shepard strapped the car seat into the back of the Charger and ensured she was cozy. And why wouldn’t she be? The car was beautiful, new, and meticulously cleaned. Not the best recipe for an infant who was under the weather. Stains abound.

“Hey.” Shepard chastised me as I turned in the passenger seat to check on her. “That seat-belt comes off? I’ll write you a ticket.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m a good cop.”

“You’re a hard-ass.”

“If you got it, flaunt it.”

And he did, the bastard. In the tailor fit suit or the navy-blue police uniform, he knew he looked good. That was part of the problem.

I twisted, keeping my eyes only on Clue. “Thank you for coming so fast.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever been thanked for that.” He frowned. “Not that it’s a frequent occurrence.”

I wasn’t amused. “I appreciate the timely arrival.”

“You didn’t give me a choice. Practically turned my lights on to get to you. Scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t have to…” I swallowed. “You know.”

“You said something was wrong. I wasn’t risking anything happening to you or the baby.”

“Why do you have to be such a nice guy?”

“I’m not a nice guy.”

“You’re driving me and my baby to the doctor, skipping out of work to do it, and you don’t even want a reward.”

“Never said that.”

“You’ll get your donut.”

“I’d take offense to that, but…”

“But?”

“I joined the force because they promised donuts. Comes with the badge. You get your choice of Taser or pepper spray, glazed or sprinkles.”

“Well, I’ll get you a dozen for this.”

“No need, Evie. I’m happy to help.”

I pretended not to hear the warmth in his words. “You didn’t become a detective to help baby-sit.”

“I did it so I could help people. You and Clue are just…”

“People?”

“Perks.”

It was a good compliment which made it so terrible to accept. “You do your job well.”

“Most of the time. I still have your mystery to solve.”

“Any revelations since the last time we…spoke?”

“It’s gonna come down to what you remember, Evie.”

“And if I don’t remember anything?” I stared at him—his strong arms, firm grip on the wheel, jaw clenched as he slowed for traffic. “What happens then?”

“To the case?”

To anything. To me. To Clue.

To him.

“Yeah. To the case.”

He pulled off the main street and circled into a parking garage. “It’s not what you’ll remember…but when.”

He parked the car, but neither of us spoke.

It was probably a blessing. I was wasting time with foolish questions that had no answers. Nothing was going to flash inspiration into my head. When the truck hit me, he left a carton of vanilla ice cream where my memories should have been. Now I had to wait for it to melt.

And then mop up the sticky, terrible messes it left.

A few families waited at the pediatrician’s office even this early in the morning.

On the left, a mother shooed her toddler from her paisley dress, content to check her iPad while the little boy shoved the office’s Legos and building blocks into his mouth.

A second mother sat to the right. She managed a five-year-old girl, three-year-old boy, and tumbling toddler boy with a sigh, snap of her fingers, and piece of gum bribe.

Shepard touched my arm. “I’m going to call the station. I’ll be outside if you need me.”

I nodded and took a seat next to the paisley mom and her toddler. She lowered her iPad and snuck a peek at Clue.

“She’s precious,” she said. “Your first?”

“As far as I know.”

“Savor this time. It goes so fast.”

I had nothing to compare it to, so I simply nodded. Her son performed a summersault and gnawed on another block. She didn’t seem to notice.

“Her first cold?” she asked.

“Yeah. Last night was…” At least I could answer with full honesty. “Probably the worst of my life.”

“The first time is always hard. It gets easier.” She knocked the block out of her son’s hand, but she failed to reign him in before he started nibbling on the office’s fern in the corner. “Tell you what I do. Just take a little Vick’s Rub and dab it over her chest. Not a lot, but it’ll help to open her up. Put it on the feet inside her onesie too. It’ll help her breathe.”

“Oh.” I made a mental note. “Thanks. I can grab some on the way home.”

“You do all you can for them.” Her smile faded as she yanked her child away from the plant. She tugged him onto her lap and pulled a leaf out of his mouth. “And here we are, getting a quarter out of your belly. At least you had some roughage.”

Clue gave a quiet whine. I excused myself with her diaper bag. One quick change later, and I had a drier, yet still miserable, baby in my arms. Poor thing hadn’t eaten yet. I figured she’d want some breakfast, but my chair was taken by Paisley and her toddler. The mother emptied her purse, counting the change with an exasperated sigh.

“Another nickel, Aiden? You’re eating your entire college fund!”

The chair in the opposite corner was free and without hungry toddlers. I covered Clue and gave her the go ahead to eat. She fussed instead.

I couldn’t blame her.

“Poor thing.” The second mother wrangled her kids with a sharp clap and collapsed next to me. Her three-year-old clung to her leg, the five-year-old read aloud from an upside-down Reader’s Digest, and her toddler emerged from the bathroom with a trail of toilet paper. “You know, when my little ones were sick, they didn’t always want to eat. I gave them a bottle with some water, and that got us through a lot of nights. Gotta keep them hydrated.”

That made sense. “I think she’s congested. Hard to eat that way.”

“That happens. You should use those little nose suckers to help clear her up.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “I was going to dab her with Vicks when we go home.”

“What?” Wrangler mom grabbed her toddler before he wrapped the entire waiting room in toilet paper. “You can’t use Vicks. That’s bad for baby.”

“It…it is?”

“Yes! It can irritate her airway. They might swell up, and she wouldn’t be able to breathe at all!”

Oh, dear sweet Jesus. “I…I didn’t know that.”

“Don’t use Vicks.”

“Wow.” I glanced across the room. “We should tell her. She doesn’t know.”

“Know what?” Paisley mom let her kid escape from the chair. She zipped her purse tight before he went for the coins. “What’s wrong?”

“Vicks.” I said. “It’s bad for babies.”

She scoffed. “No, it’s not. It’s perfectly safe.”

Wrangler mom shook her head. “It’s an irritant. It closes airways.”

“It’s menthol. It opens airways.”

“Not for little children. It’s dangerous.”

Paisley rolled her eyes. “I used it on my son. He’s fine.”

He looked okay for a walking piggy bank. I shrugged.

Wrangler gave another huff and reached for a magazine. “If you want to risk your child’s health, go right ahead.”

“Excuse me?”

Uh-oh. This was going nowhere good.

Paisley Mom crossed her arms. “My children are fine. So are my brother and sister’s kids, if you must know. We all use Vicks, and everyone has come out of the sniffles no worse for the wear.”

“Okay.” Wrangler faked a pleasant smile. “I’d rather be safe than lucky, but that’s between you and your husband.”

“And what would you recommend for a congested baby? Saline?”

“When my children were babies?” She waved over the gaggle of kids. “They had saline. They had nose suckers. And I made sure they stayed hydrated.”

“Hydrated?” Paisley grimaced. “With what?”

Wrangler huffed. “Water. What are you hydrating your kids with? More chemicals?”

“You gave them water?”

“In a bottle.”

“You can’t give them water!”

Well, fuck me. Now I had no freaking idea what to do for my baby.

The women were content to ignore each other now, but I couldn’t reach my cell phone to Google why water was apparently forbidden.

It was dumb to speak. “Isn’t water good?”

Paisley sighed. “She’ll get plenty of water from breast milk. Giving her any more will cause electrolyte imbalances.”

Great. In the span of five minutes I had almost destroyed my child’s respiratory and digestive system. I was better off camping under her crib like a freak.

Fortunately, general disorder and thinly veiled condescension somehow pleased Clue. She nestled against me and started to eat. Figured. At least I couldn’t mess that up.

Or I hadn’t.

Yet.

This was turning into one hell of a day.

Shepard stepped into the office just as the receptionist called my name. He glanced at the warring ladies, stepped through the commotion, and gave me a piercing glance.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Why me?”

“Because I know you.”

Paisley marched over to Wrangler. “Look lady. I won’t tell you how to raise your kids, you don’t tell me how to medicate mine.”

“Maybe you better ask Google how to do it then!” Wrangler said. “Have you ever read a parenting book?”

“I’m sorry. I raise my children the way I was brought up, not how some scientist thinks I should care for my boy.”

I tugged on Shepard’s arm. “Let’s go.”

“I thought you couldn’t nurse and walk?” he asked.

Well, I sure as hell wasn’t unlatching the baby in range of Mommy Mayhem 2016. “I’ll figure it out. If it gets bumpy, we’ll just call it a milkshake.”

The nurse was all too eager to settle the quarrel in the waiting room. She quickly led us to a quiet room, then returned to referee the brawl.

I sat in the corner, letting Clue finish her breakfast.

“Seems like she’s doing better,” Shepard said.

I wished. “No. She’s not feeling good.”

“How can you tell?”

Hell if I knew. “I can’t explain it. Just a feeling.”

He checked his phone, buzzing with a text. Instead of answering, he dismissed the message and shoved the phone in his pocket. He didn’t sit, but he tried to give me a bit of privacy with her.

Was it wrong or bad or just plain terrible that I didn’t feel uncomfortable with him there?

“I think you’re doing great with her,” he said.

“I hope so.”

“I’m serious.” He looked down. “Makes me feel better.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t there.”

I stiffened. “You thought you had to keep an eye on me?”

“No. I wanted to…” He exhaled, hard. “Be a part of it. Do whatever I could to make it easier for you. But it doesn’t seem like you need help.”

“I’m still terrified, Shepard. Especially listening to her all congested? It just…” I stroked her pudgy cheek, watching as she paced her swallows. I doubted she even wanted to eat. It was like…

She just wanted to be close to her momma.

And it didn’t matter that I had no memories. That I was a mess. That I was alone.

She had me.

And that meant the world to both of us.

“I mean, look at this little face.” I sucked in a breath. “She’s so cute I want to die.”

“Please don’t,” Shepard said.

“I have no plans to OD on adorable, thank you very much.”

“Good.” Shepard’s voice lowered. “If something happened to you or Clue…I’d be...”

My heart peaced out. Flipped and dropped and performed feats of acrobatics that I had only vainly attempted from a couple workout routines on YouTube.

Fortunately, the doctor interrupted my coronary. The door swung open, and he gave the chart a quick look-over before greeting us.

“There’s our little Suzette.”

Shepard groaned. “You didn’t change it yet?”

What was I going to call her instead? I’d get laughed out of the Social Security office if I named the kid Clue.

Doctor Reece glanced at his paperwork. “Evie, nice to see you again. Any change with your condition?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, it’ll come. And you must be…” He glanced at Shepard. “This little girl’s father?”

I cleared my throat, but the gargling choke wasn’t as discreet as I’d have liked. “Oh no. He’s not…we’re not…”

“I’m Shepard.” He shook the doctor’s hand. “I’m…just a friend.”

The doctor knew not to ask too many questions. He gestured for me to hand her over.

And even that broke my heart. I turned away and fixed my clothes while he weighed her and took her temperature.

“She’s gaining weight. In the healthy range.” He winked. “You’re doing good.”

“Well, I didn’t want to tell her she had chubby thighs,” I said. “I’d hop from here to the child therapist across the hall.”

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about you doing anything wrong.”

“You’d be surprised. There’s so much advice out there. And everyone is telling you something different—”

The bellowing echoed out from the waiting room.

“Don’t put Vicks on babies!”

The return shriek heralded the wail of crying children.

“Don’t give babies water!”

I flinched. So did Doctor Reece.

“See?” He shook his head. “Plenty of schools of thought when it comes to childcare. As far as I’m concerned, you’re doing everything right.”

“But she’s sick.”

“Babies get sick,” he said. “It’ll be a couple long, miserable days while she recovers, but keep breastfeeding. You’re giving her antibodies to help combat the illness. Plus the skin on skin contact soothes her…and momma too, I bet. You can get a humidifier for her room to help as well.”

I nodded, quickly. “Okay. What else?”

“Don’t check your watch. She’ll fight it off on her own time.”

He examined her ears, her heart, and gave her a once over before wrapping my wailing baby up and handing her to me.

“And?” Shepard asked.

“It’s a cold,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

The shouting rumbled through the office. “No Vicks!”

I sucked in a breath. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said.

“No water!”

“Positive?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not kuru?”

Doctor Reece frowned. “Just what do you think is in your breast milk?”

Shepard squeezed my shoulder. “Thank you, Doctor. Sorry for the emergency visit, but we were concerned.”

The pounding on the door startled us all. A nurse burst inside, clutching a stethoscope, a rolled-up magazine, and a ripped piece of paisley fabric.

“Doctor, I’m sorry, but we have a—”

The enraged screams of two overly exhausted women pierced the hall. The cries preceded a tremendous crash, the wails of children, and the excited cursing of every nurse in the office. Two grabbed patient files and burst out the emergency exit to safety. One particularly brave woman grabbed her phone and started recording before she rushed into the waiting room.

The nurse stared at the doctor. “We should call the police.”

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t bother. I’m a cop. I’ll handle it.”

He motioned for me to wait and assisted the nurse, racing head-long into…

World War Mommy.

The battle began with a runny nose, lost binkie, and a deafening song from Frozen rattling the windows. Both mothers squared off an inch from each other’s faces.

Wrangler made the first move, whipping Paisley with the strap of her purse. Paisley grabbed it, yanking it away before it smacked her again. That only rained the wrath of the diaper bag on her. Wrangler let loose, pummeling her with the unzipped baby bag.

Diapers launched. Two popped into a ceiling fan only to be flung across the room, smacking a toddler and crashing into an anniversary flower arrangement at the stunned receptionist’s desk.

“Bottle feeder!” Paisey yelled.

Wrangler grunted. “Vicks rubber!”

“Let it go, let it go!”

The bag crashed once more over Paisley. A jolted container of baby powder sneezed a curtain of billowing whiteness over the waiting room. The blizzard of powder plumed over both women. They screamed.

Then sneezed.

Then shrieked again.

“…can’t hold it back anymore…”

“You use powder?” Paisley screeched. “That can cause lung problems!”

“I’ve used it for three children!”

“It’s a miracle they survived!”

Wrangler struck again. A plastic container of wet naps crashed to the floor. The two toddlers exacted their revenge, ripping wipe after wipe from the container, flinging them into the air.

Unfortunately, Paisley’s boy grabbed a block instead. He launched it across the room. It struck Wrangler’s five-year-old in the mouth.

She promptly spit out a baby tooth.

And squealed in abject horror.

The five-year-old blustered into a tantrum, pitching the lost tooth at her younger siblings and rushing head-first into the wall. She attempted to rip her skirt, overturn the toddler’s tower of blocks, and take out her frustrations on an old copy of Vanity Fair. The mothers both shouted as she climbed a chair with a furious roar. Shepard raced across the room to catch her before she tumbled, but her hand flailed over the wall. She grabbed the first thing she could find to stabilize herself.

The fire alarm.

Sirens wailed. Lights flashed. The sprinkler system immediately burst, and a shower of ice-cold water poured over the entire waiting room. I tucked Clue closer to my breast.

The kids screamed louder, rushing in hyper circles, half-yelling, half-chanting to the song on loop blaring from the iPad.

“…the cold never bothered me anyway…”

Shepard lowered the girl to the ground, but he braced himself with a copy of Better Homes and Garden before approaching the women.

“Ladies…” His voice steadied, soft but commanding. “Let’s take a step back, okay?”

Paisley had none of it. “Co-sleeper!”

Wrangler fumed. “Juice giver!”

“Ladies—”

“…It's time to see what I can do…”

The diaper bag swung again. Candy exploded from one pocket, quarters from another, and the children danced under a piñata of disorderly conduct.

The Jolly Ranchers were collected first. Paisley’s boy-turned-vending-machine gobbled fifty cents worth of dimes before grabbing at a lollipop.

“Disposable diaperer!” Paisley shouted.

“Pacifier lover!”

“Butt Powderer!”

“Coin Eater!”

“…Let the storm rage on…”

Shepard ducked as the bag swung again. The handle ripped off, and the contents hurled into the wall. It crashed against a framed picture of a cartoon kitten and puppy, both wearing bandages and gnawing on thermometers. The glass shattered as the frame crashed to the ground.

“Momma, the kitty!” The toothless five-year-old bellowed.

“No!” The toddler squealed. “Puppy!”

“Shut up, Braydon! Kitties are better!”

“Puppy!”

Wrangler launched for Paisley’s hair. “Formula feeder!”

“Caesarian Getter!”

“I had complications!”

“…Let the storm rage on…”

“Mommy!” The five-year-old pitched the iPad. It crashed into the fish tank.

The glass shattered, and a deluge of water poured from the tank, scattering shells, coral, salt-water, and fish to all corners of the waiting room.

Every child stilled, horrified.

“Nemo!”

“Enough!” Shepard shouted above them all. Everyone sit down! Kids. Get the fish. Put them in water.”

When Wrangler attempted another slap, Shepard intercepted her hand and guided her to a seat.

“Calm down.” Shepard silenced crazed mothers, children, doctors, and nurses alike.

The only one he couldn’t convince to stay quiet? A tremendously inconvenienced and now damp Clue. I covered her as best I could, but the sprinklers raged a torrent of water over the fight.

Shepard pointed at the women, the water mixing with the powder to cover them both in sticky paste. “You’re lucky I don’t haul you all down to the station to finish this godda—darn fight.”

The nurses bashed at the security alarm, somehow shorting the electrical system. The sprinklers stopped just as the power zapped out. At least it let the one nurse cover the broken glass and the other to dump three of the rescued fish in her Nalgene water bottle. The office settled into a quiet unease for only a few seconds.

Then heavy boots crashed through the front door.

Five police officers busted into the office, geared in SWAT team bullet proof vests and wielding riot shields and nightsticks. The door shattered under their kick, the children sobbed, and Shepard rushed forward, badge in hand, to calm the troops.

The commanding officer frowned at the women. “What the hell is going on here?”

Both pointed to me and spoke in unison.

“She asked for advice!”

Oh Lord.

Shepard gestured for me to pick a path between shards of coral, wipes, and spilled candy. He guided me outside as the police took statements. He handed me the keys.

“Sit in the car. Don’t drive off.”

“I wouldn’t leave you to that zoo.”

“Good. You don’t know how to drive.”

“I do too!” I paused. “I think.”

“No license.” He pointed at me. “No driving.”

“No fun.”

I hopped into the car, cradling Clue to my chest as I waited for the SWAT team to subdue the mothers and offer the kids additional sweets, quarters, and their first ride in a squad car. Fortunately, Shepard returned with a miracle.

A gross, terrible miracle.

He slid into the driver’s seat, turning only to ensure Clue was fastened in appropriately. He handed me a plastic tube, complete with tapered edge and a little mouthpiece.

“What is it?”

“That.” He mimed how it would work. “Is a snot sucker.”

I threw it back at him.

“The nurses said it’s the best thing for congestion.” He pointed to the end. “Stick that in her nose and then…”

“Nope. Don’t even go there.”

“Suck.”

“And I thought those moms were crazy.”

“Supposedly it works.” He handed it to me. “You might need it.”

“There has never been a point in anyone’s life when they thought I don’t have enough baby snot in my mouth.”

“You don’t eat it!”

“Good. I’m still trying to lose some baby weight.”

Shepard shook the baggie at me. “Wouldn’t you want to try anything if it helps her congestion?”

Damn it. I grabbed it from him with a scowl. “Stop using emotional blackmail. Anything I say can and will be used against me in the nursery.”

“You’d do anything for that kid, and you know it.”

And no bodily function was going to scare me away.

No matter how gross, disturbing, or mentally scarring.

“Evie.” Shepard started the car, but he didn’t pull out yet, not while the police were still escorting the women to their own vehicles. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

My stomach roiled. Not what I needed now. No declarations. No confessions.

I wanted a nap, a bath, and a burrito, and I’d do it all at once if I could.

He lowered his voice. “You slept beside her crib last night. Alone.”

“Who else would I have slept with?”

His words warmed me. “I don’t like you doing this alone. I know you said that we shouldn’t…”

He let the implication linger for a moment too long. “You should have someone to call if things get overwhelming or frightening or if you…”

“What?”

“Need a friend. You deserve that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” I said.

“Yes, I do. Until you get your memory back, I should be helping you. Doing everything I can for that little baby.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

He turned, watching me, his blue eyes almost steely grey in the morning light. Was that how they looked every morning, gentled from sleep but just as piercing, just as soul-searching as ever?

“Evie, I know we made a mistake with that kiss, but we can act like adults about it.”

“I’m worried we would have acted too adult.”

“It wouldn’t have gone that far.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Physical limitations at the time being what they were, you’re probably right.”

“So?”

I was not having this talk. “Well, I’m healed up now.”

“No, Evie.” Shepard groaned. “I mean…we can admit that we’re attracted to each other. Right?”

I nodded to save any future humiliation.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said.

“That’s what almost got us in trouble.”

“Then let me propose something.”

“At least you’re being a gentleman about it now.”

He liked the teasing, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “Let’s agree to be friends. I can help with the baby and give you a break every once in a while.”

“I don’t need a break.”

“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t use one,” he said. “And you need someone to help if there’s a problem. I don’t want you calling me at six in the morning if something is wrong with Clue.”

The regret burned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“I want you to call me immediately.” His words edged sterner than they needed. “If there’s ever a problem, I want to be your first thought, got it? We can keep it platonic.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

That relief was almost as thrilling as the moments when a flash of memory would unlock from the vault that was my mind. I rested against the passenger seat, trying to think of a way to explain the unexplainable to the only man I knew who would understand.

“This was the first time I was scared,” I said.

“Really?”

“Well…actually scared. I felt like I could handle anything, even without my home and family.” I breathed deeply for the first time in a day. “I’ve lost an entire lifetime to this accident. It feels like I’ve only been alive as long as she has. But I keep thinking…”

“Yeah?”

I held his gaze. “I’d give up my past in an instant if it meant protecting what I had now.”

“Nothing will happen to you or the baby.”

“What happens if I lose my memory again? What if all of this goes too?”

“It won’t.”

“It better not.” My voice weakened. I swallowed to clear the shadow of fear. “I can deal with not remembering my past. But if I lost my memories of her? It’d destroy me.”

Shepard reached for my hand. His fingers stroked mine before pulling away.

“I have an idea.” His smile warmed through me, momentarily re-forging every crack that had appeared in a moment of weakness. “What are you doing this weekend?”

“I might have to clear my schedule…diapers to change and babies to feed.”

“Saturday. I’m going to pick you and Clue up, if she’s feeling better.”

“Why?”

“I’m giving you a surprise.”

“I’m not sure if I should trust you, Shepard Novak.”

“It won’t be the last time you say that.”

No.

Strange though.

It didn’t feel like the first time either.