Dorsey pulled her away from the tables toward the pews on the perimeter of the room. Sitting her on his lap, he wrapped his arm around her, closing his warm hand over her gently rounding belly. Liza’s heart quickened at the feel of his hands. Will I ever be immune to his touch? She had traveled the world with him. She’d seen him build a women’s hospital in Malaysia, lay bricks in the Congo, and crash on a motorbike in Vietnam. He’d seen her haggle with a cloth maker in Lagos, sob into the night when a mother she had helped almost died in childbirth in Brazil, and order soap, jabón, instead of ham, jamón, in Ecuador. Liza thought they had seen every aspect of each other.

But now they would get to know each other as mother and father.

Liza interlaced their fingers. “What do you think of Datu for a boy?”

Dorsey grunted noncommittally. “It’s a last name. What do you think of Evie for a girl?”

Evelyn had been her granny’s name. Liza fanned her eyes and felt a lump rise in her throat. Her granny would have loved to see her pregnant.

Janae swept her feet playfully. “Liza’s avoiding cleaning, as always.”

Liza looked around the dimly lit basement. She had started this journey with Dorsey on her way to being jaded. Janae had been in a downward spiral of depression. Deya had been lost in attention seeking, and Maurice had been struggling with his identity. But they would be okay. Liza felt ready to focus on her new growing family. Her hand moved over Dorsey’s on her belly and she leaned into him, letting out a contented sigh. The Bennetts would be okay.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am so lucky to have been surrounded by wonderful, trustworthy, and competent people throughout the time I have been at work on this novel. To my agent, Kim “the Lion” (made up) Lionetti, thank you so much for your advocacy and belief in me. Me! Thank you to my amazing editor, Cindy “the Hammer” (invented) Hwang, at Berkley. The number of neurotic emails and texts these women have fielded should be in a museum. I am consistently amazed at the level of care and engagement I have received from the Berkley team—folks like Angela Kim, who is patient and understanding.

Thank you to my husband, Heath, who, when we were at our poorest, nearly maxed out his credit card to send me to a writing conference. It was an investment that continues to pay dividends. Thank you for your unfailing support. We’re doing it, Pooh! Further, I am deeply indebted to my sister-in-law, Zaneta, for her love and generosity, and I am sustained by the love of my mother-in-law and the memory of my father-in-law, who taught me lessons of perseverance.