Emily looked at the baby, who had a thick thatch of hair, chocolate-brown like Tessa’s. “I’ll take her,” she said, impulsively. “It’s lunchtime for me now anyway. Just pick her up from my office after class.” The minute she said it, she knew she shouldn’t have. She knew this wasn’t something a therapist was supposed to do for a patient. She knew that when she walked back into the center with Zoe, Priya would have something to say about it—and she wouldn’t be wrong. But Emily didn’t rescind her offer. She wondered if Dr. West would’ve done the same thing for her.

“I can’t—” Tessa was shaking her head.

“It’s fine,” Emily said. “You won’t be able to pay as much attention to your professor if you have to handle her, too.”

Tessa sighed. She looked like she was going to object again but then seemed to change her mind. “Thank you,” she said, handing over Zoe and her diaper bag. “There’s a bottle in here for her. She’ll probably want it pretty soon. And diapers and a change of clothes and a pacifier and everything.”

Emily adjusted the diaper bag on one shoulder and settled Zoe on her hip. “We’ll see you soon,” she said. “And here—I’ll give you my cell number. If you’re nervous, text me and I’ll send you back a photo. Prove to you that this kiddo and I are doing just fine.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Tessa laughed but typed Emily’s cell number into her phone anyway and then waved one last time and hurried toward the arts and sciences building.

Zoe started whimpering louder, but Emily rocked her back and forth, swaying like she’d done when her nephews were tiny, and Zoe quieted down.

“I’m Emily,” Emily told the baby, even though she knew that at six months old, developmentally the baby had no idea what she was saying. Words didn’t have meanings yet. But she kept talking, knowing the sound of her voice could be soothing. “Some kids I know call me Auntie Em. You can, too, if you want.”

Zoe leaned over and started sucking on Emily’s shoulder.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” she said. “Well, I’ll get you that bottle as soon as we make it to the deli. I’ll order my sandwich—I think it’ll be an egg salad on rye with tomato—and while we wait for my lunch, I’ll give you yours. How does that sound?”

Zoe continued sucking on Emily’s shirt, and Emily could feel it getting saturated with baby drool. She laughed.

This is what it’ll be like, she thought. I’ll be covered in drool, and I won’t mind a bit.

—