Page 2 of Tarek

I laughed softly when she handed it to me. "Mom, this is big enough to use as a throw on the couch."

"Good."

"Or cover a double bed."

"Even better. She'll grow into it, and it means it's big enough for all of you to snuggle with her under it.

I smiled and thanked her, running my fingers over the soft yarn. It was exactly the sort of thing she would make, putting far more work into something than anyone had asked her to. It was a work of love, and I vowed to treasure it and teach the children to as well. With care, Laura would take this with her when she moved into her home someday. Someday far, far away. When she was at least forty.

Philip's father crouched beside the boys as they raced their new cars across the rug. "Look at you two. I swear, every time I see you, you've grown another inch." Matt grinned up at him while Evan demonstrated how his car could apparently go much faster if he pushed it down the hallway. "And I can sure see the Brooks resemblance in all of you," Philip's father added, looking between the boys and then at Laura.

I smiled. There was something satisfying about hearing that, even though none of the children were biologically mine or Philip's. We'd become a family in all the ways that mattered, and I liked the idea that people could look at us and see that connection.

Philip's father straightened and glanced at his watch. "Come on, Philip. We'd better get going before your mother pulls out her honey-do list again and we miss the car show."

Philip looked at me apologetically. I laughed and waved him toward the door. "Go. Before she finds something else for you to do."

He kissed my cheek, promised he'd be back later, and followed his father outside. His mother watched them through the window for a moment before turning back toward the boys.

"Right. Who wants some of Grandma's homemade oatmeal raisin cream pies?"

Both boys immediately abandoned their cars. "Me!" they chorused.

She laughed. "Then you'd better come into the kitchen."

While she settled them at the table with generous slices of pie and glasses of milk, I carried Laura into the sitting room and settled her into the bassinet attachment on the baby swing. My in-laws had bought the swing when Evan was a baby, and the boys had both used it on the rare visits we'd made to Philip's parents. The regular baby swing seat could be swapped out for the bassinet, which had made it useful again now that we had a newborn.

Laura barely stirred as I tucked her soft flannelette blanket around her.

"Oh, look at her," Philip's mother cooed from behind me. She came over and immediately began another round of oohs and aahs, admiring Laura's tiny fingers, her dark hair, and the little shape of her nose. Then she remembered something and hurried out of the room. "I have Phillip's baby book and the photo albums from then somewhere. Wait until you see them."

I smiled as she disappeared upstairs.

She was back a few minutes later with an armful of old albums just as the doorbell rang.

"That'll be Tracy," she said, referring to her sister-in-law, as her doorbell announced a visitor. Philip's aunt swept into the house with a gift bag in one hand and a smile that suggested she'd been waiting all day for this visit, not waiting for the door to be answered.

"There she is!" she said as she spotted the baby and went straight for Laura first, then made a fuss over the boys and produced more gifts from her bag, announcing that they were from their great-aunt and uncle.

"Where's Harvey?" Philip's mother asked.

"He went to meet the other two men at the show venue," she said. "Along with a bag with some rubber ducks in it, for when he sees a vintage Jeep, or there's one in the parking lot."

I laughed. "Of course he did."

"Apparently, you can't go anywhere with Harvey without being prepared for the possibility of a rubber duck sighting."

She settled onto the couch beside me and looked at the boys, who were already investigating their latest presents. "My goodness, look how big they've gotten."

"They grow too fast," I said.

"They really do." She looked from Evan to Matt, then back again. "Although I have to say, one of them is a near-dead ringer for our baby brother when he was that age."

Something in the room seemed to change. It was subtle. So subtle I might not even have noticed if I hadn't already been tired. Philip's mother went still for half a second. Her smile remained in place, but her mouth tightened slightly before she looked more closely at both boys.

I watched her, then looked at Evan, then at Matt. She seemed to catch herself and smiled again. "Now, where did I put those baby books?" she said brightly, getting to her feet. "I want you to see Philip's."

She hurried off toward the stairs. I looked back at the boys, and that was when the insidious thought started. It wasn't anything concrete. Nothing I could point to and say, “There. That's proof.” It was just a little itch at the back of my mind.