She touched a fingertip to the wall just to make sure it was dry, then looked up when a shadow passed over the skylight. Mary Beth relaxed when she remembered that Mr. Corlear was on the roof, repairing the support for the big sign that had been snapped by a gust of wind during a recent thunderstorm. His heavy footsteps moved to the side of the building and down the metal ladder that was fixed to the exterior wall.

Parr hadn’t been able to get Bobby Joe to see reason when it came to things like big signs. But that was Parr’s problem. Mary Beth was concerned about other things. She took a seat at a small desk, brooding as Bobby Joe went on talking one flight below.

Her own phone rang and she took it out of her pocket and looked at a text reminder that her bill was due. After all that time in the hospital, she’d undoubtedly gone way over on minutes and messaging. Mary Beth didn’t want to review the total.

She tapped the screen and smiled at the wallpaper photo of baby Amanda sleeping like an angel, her plump cheeks flushed a delicate pink, a tiny bow attached somehow to her wispy hair. Mary Beth thought about calling Eve and decided not to. Amanda could squall good and loud when so inclined, and Mary Beth didn’t want to be the one who set her off.

“You there?” Bobby Joe called to her, his voice echoing up the stairwell.

She sighed and called back. “Yes. Where else would I be?”

“Smarty-pants. I just didn’t know if you were up or down.”

She could say the same thing about herself but for different reasons. “Want me to—”

“Just stay there.” He came slowly up the stairs and appeared in the door frame. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

The curt reply didn’t seem to make much of a dent in his self-satisfaction. Even with the limp, there was a swagger to his step as he came into the room.

“Sorry. Gail and I lost track of time,” he offered.

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Mary Beth didn’t want to argue.

“So how do you like it up here?”

Mary Beth ran a hand over the fine veneer of the small desk, deciding to humor him. “It might be my favorite of all the rooms. I like the skylight.”

Bobby Joe leaned against the stepladder the painter had left in the room. “I had you in mind when I picked out the doll house furniture. It’s your size, baby.”

Mary Beth managed a smile.

“Want to know what I had in mind?” He quickly answered his own question. “That you might want to use this for a work space someday.”

“Oh? But I like my job. I’m not quitting.”

“You could double your income as a consultant,” he said.