I felt my cheeks grow hot and studied my cookie crumbs until the heat subsided. All I’d done was write how I felt. It wasn’t a big deal. I hadn’t thought to have anyone else sign it, but once Donna heard I was writing a letter, she told everyone and my office had been stampeded with people wielding pens.

Graydon tapped the table. “It was a risk for her to write that—you know what boards can be like—and I’m grateful. I appreciate the board’s support, but knowing that the staff thinks I’m doing a good job means more than I can say without getting all gooey.”

The three of us sat and chatted until the cookies were gone, and on the walk home, I kept telling Rafe how happy I was that Graydon’s contract was renewed. And how happy I was that Pug’s killer was in jail. And that the good Ryan was free to go back to his regular life.

“You’re just happy inside and out, aren’t you?” Rafe said, amused, as he opened the front door.

Buzz!!

Both our phones started vibrating at the same time. I pulled mine from my coat pocket. “Kristen,” I said, as Rafe pulled his from his pants pocket and said, “Scruffy.”

The air around us stopped moving. Part of me was excitedly shouting Baby!, but my mouth wasn’t working at all, because fear suddenly grabbed hold of my insides. What if something horrible had happened? What if they’d had an accident on the way to the hospital? What if something had gone wrong with the delivery?

But the small and brave part of me took control of my thumb and hit Accept, and as I put the phone to my ear, I saw Rafe doing the same thing.

Two seconds later, we were jumping into the car and on our way to the hospital.

*   *   *

Aunt Frances stared at us across the restaurant’s table. “Kristen had what?”

“A girl,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

“And a boy. Names soon to be announced.” Rafe lifted his beer glass in toast position. My aunt, Otto, and I followed his lead. “To twins,” he said, “twice the diapers, half the sleep.”

“To twins,” Otto said, winking at me. “Because that’s when you find out who’s a good friend and who’s a great friend.”

“To twins,” Aunt Frances said. “Two miracles instead of one.”

It was my turn, but I couldn’t think of anything funny, or profound, or clever. All I could come up with was how I felt. “To the twins,” I said, “who will have the best parents in the world.”

“Hear, hear,” Otto murmured, and we drank deep of our adult beverages.