Karen’s heart began to pound again. How did this woman know her name? Recently arrived in Kurnai Bay from Melbourne, she wasn’t used to her neighbors knowing her name, let alone a complete stranger.

But the woman didn’t seem to notice Karen’s unease. “I’m Hilary van den Berg. It’s great to meet you. Eileen said you were joining our group. I made you a welcome casserole four days ago, though it turns out the hardest part isn’t the cooking, but actually getting into the car to deliver it to you.” The woman leaned in conspiratorially. “If Eileen asks about it, can you tell her you got it? I promise Ken will drop it over to you tonight.”

Hilary’s rapid-fire speech generated so many questions, Karen didn’t know where to start. Granted, she was sleep deprived and she and Peter had spoken to a parade of realtors, tradesmen and utility providers during the previous ten days, but she was certain she hadn’t met an Eileen.

“Who’s Eileen?”

“The health center nurse.” Hilary laughed. “I’m not surprised you can’t remember who’s who. With twins, you must have double baby brain.”

“Something like that,” Karen said faintly. Most days she had no idea if she was coming or going.

“Twins have always been my secret wish.” Hilary stroked her own baby’s head. “I’ll never tell Dan, but I was disappointed when I found out I was only cooking him. You’re so lucky!”

Karen winced. Luck was such an arbitrary event—one person’s luck was too often another person’s misfortune, but she couldn’t think about that. Couldn’t dwell on the heartache and regrets. Her focus must be her daughters and creating opportunities for them both to thrive.

“I thought I was only having one baby right up until two minutes after I delivered Libby.”

Hilary’s eyes widened. “Crikey! Have you gotten over the shock yet?”

Karen thought about the rollercoaster ride of the last nine weeks, including the unexpected move. “Not really.”

“Can I peek?”

Apparently, it was a rhetorical question, because before Karen could say a word, Hilary was pushing back the stroller covers and peering in.

“Oh, Karen,” she breathed. “They’re gorgeous. What are their names?”

“Libby’s the eldest and she’s under the lemon-colored blanket.”

As if Libby knew she was being discussed, her blue eyes popped open, her lips widened into a beatific smile and then she gurgled.

“Aren’t you a bright spark,” Hilary cooed. “You look like you know what you want.”

Karen thought anxiously about Libby’s intensity—she was either in a fury or laughing in delight. “She knows what she likes and dislikes.”