Amelia and Fritz made eye contact. Silent communication passed between them. Each of them had a different way they wanted their daughter to view the situation. They mistakenly thought that Natalie didn’t register the entire exchange.

“Natalie,” I said. “How about one game of Scrabble before I take off?”

Natalie perked up at the suggestion. “OK.”

Her parents looked relieved. I’d figured out a way to serve a purpose and a reason to stay in the house. Natalie and I settled in at the dining table.

Amelia called Lucia several times without reaching her. I could hear her leaving messages. Several minutes into our game of Scrabble, I heard Amelia talking to someone. I missed the first few words of her conversation.

“You’re working tomorrow?” Amelia said, the disappointment in her voice impossible to disguise. “She’s working tomorrow,” she said to Fritz. “Tonight? Yes. Yes. Eight is perfect.” Amelia hung up the phone. “She’s coming over after dinner!”

I was relieved by this turn of events—and pleased at my own skill in directing us toward the desired outcome.

Natalie turned to see what the commotion was. “Who’s coming?”

“Lucia is coming to meet us, honey.” Amelia approached and leaned over to encircle Natalie in her arms.

I stood up. “I should go now. This is a time for your immediate family.” It was a calculated risk, because I wanted to stay.

“We just started our game,” Natalie said.

“We’ll play another time.” I spoke firmly so none of them would question my determination.

Fritz interjected. “No, it would be great for you to stay. Please.” Fritz gave me a meaningful look. Was he thinking about our earlier conversation?

“It’d be nice for Natalie to have a pal,” Amelia said cheerfully.

I did my best to maintain a neutral expression. I practiced inhaling and exhaling through my nose, taking slow, deep breaths. Amelia was underestimating the importance of the birth mother role—focused only on the girl’s gait, carriage, and temperament. It was my moral obligation to alter Amelia’s course.

Lucia was scheduled to arrive in one hour. Natalie and I continued our game. Meanwhile, Fritz took a pizza out of the freezer and put it in the microwave.

“We don’t want Lucia to see that.” Amelia pointed to the pizza box like it was a dead mouse. “Don’t forget to throw it away.”

Fritz barely acknowledged her.

Natalie and I ate pizza and drank seltzer while continuing on with Scrabble, and Amelia prepared a beautiful platter of raw vegetables and homemade cucumber dill dip, along with a platter of fresh fruit.

“Where’s that homemade pumpkin bread?” Amelia called out from the kitchen.

“What?” Fritz asked.

“Got it.”