Shelly was leaning over the crib. “Goddamn it, shut the fuck up!”

She was just reaching for the baby when Deborah blocked her arm. “I’ll take care of her. You rest. Everything will be fine.”

“What do you know, you fuckin’ Pollyanna.”

Deborah knew better than to respond. Shelly had reverted to her old ways and any reassurances would be met with hostility.

Shelly stared at her darkly and finally turned on her heel. “Have at it, Deborah. You think you’re so smart, you do it.”

She went back into the guest room and shut the door.

Deborah picked up the baby and took her downstairs. She settled in the rocker, put a diaper across her shoulder, and laid the baby up against her, patting her gently until she erupted in a satisfying burp. Rain was quiet then. Deborah continued to pat her, humming, until the baby drifted off to sleep. She debated about returning her to her crib and thought better of it.

Still holding her, Deborah crossed to the wall-mounted phone in the kitchen and lifted the handset. She called Annabelle and gave her a brief account of what was going on. “I need a cradle so I can keep the baby downstairs with me during the day. Do you still have Michael’s on hand?”

“Sure. I set aside all the baby paraphernalia for the next garage sale. I’ve been letting it sit until I was sure I wasn’t going to opt for one more. Let me haul it out and dust it off. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

“Don’t ring the bell. Come around to the kitchen door and I’ll let you in.”

Fifteen minutes later Annabelle pulled into the driveway with Michael in his infant seat next to her, David, Ryan, and Diana in the backseat. She got the kids out of the car, opened the back of the station wagon, and grabbed the cradle by one end. She herded everyone up the drive and around to the back. Deborah was waiting and opened the door before she had a chance to knock. She put a finger to her lips. “Thank you so much,” she whispered.

“Not a problem. Anything else I can do to help?”

“This is fine. I’ll call later. You’re an angel.”

Annabelle blew her a kiss and ushered her brood of kidlets back to the car. There was a delay while she got everyone settled.

Deborah heard the car start and caught a glimpse of Annabelle pulling out of the drive. She jiggled the sleeping baby on one arm, using her free hand to carry the cradle into the living room. The thick drapes and wall-to-wall carpeting would muffle Rain’s cries if she woke. Maybe with rest Shelly would feel better able to handle the child. Annabelle had not only dusted the cradle, she’d tucked a crib sheet over the mattress and added a pile of flannel baby blankets at one end. Deborah lowered Rain into the cradle, shook out one of the blankets, and covered her. These were blankets Annabelle made by hand as gifts for the newborns among her friends. She also donated blankets to the nursery at St. Terry’s, along with knitted booties and caps, so every new mom, even those without money to spare, would have something warm for her infant to wear home.