He caught her hand. “Look at me.”
Her eyes lifted slowly, warily.
“I wish I could promise I was going to win, but you know as well as I do, Faith, the whole custody mess is a toss-up at this point.”
“I know. That’s why I’m still carrying my lucky clover. It’s called covering all bases,” she said as she bent to collect the bottles she’d dropped and then carried them to the kitchen sink.
Brian picked up both babies and snuggled them into his arms. “When I spoke with James earlier, he said nothing further can be done on our case until the test results come back.”
“David gave me that same story.” Faith said, as she handed Brian a bottle and held out her arms for one of the babies.
Brian passed her Evan. “Here you go, princess.” He said, parting Elyse's rosebud-hued lips with the bottle’s milky nipple.
Faith settled into a corner of the couch with Evan. “Nick’s dad had the nerve to imply that something might be wrong with Evan because he drooled.”
“I hope you wrote it down. If Nick does turn out to be the biological dad, you have a better shot than I do at contesting his custody. Maxwell said I might be able to ask for comparative DNA from a second lab, but the judge could still grant Carter temporary custody pending any outcome.”
Faith used her fingers to brush Evan's soft brown, flyaway hair. “It’s too depressing to dwell on. I may only have a couple of weeks left as their mom. I’m going to put everything else out of my mind and just savor being with them, watching them develop. They’re coming into their own personalities, have you noticed?”
“Yes. Elyse is already an accomplished flirt. Evan is going to rip through life with gusto.”
Faith raised her head. “Both of those traits describe Chloe.”
“I suppose so.” Brian mused. “Fraternal twins only share half their parents’ genes, which cuts down on genetic similarities. According to my book, it’s too early to say whether either of the twins inherited any of their father’s features or traits.”
“It’d be easier to accept the DNA results if the children resembled the proven biological dad.”
“The waiting is getting to us, Faith. I like your idea of forgetting all about custody for now. After the twins finish their bottles, why don’t we put them in their carriers and drive down to the coast? Fall’s going to give way to winter soon and it won’t be as easy to take them on outings.”
Faith didn’t want to say that every time they got in Brian’s car and the four of them went somewhere, it made her heart ache. She didn’t want to tell him that she’d never felt more poignantly alone than on those occasions. The fact that they weren’t now and never would be a real family became more painful with every “family” thing they did.
Whenever they went out with the babies, people assumed they were married. There was something about twins that made everyone stop and admire, cooing and smiling. Passerbys always took for granted that she and Brian were the parents. Faith thought she'd handled it well at first. Now, because they’d grown closer and they’d fallen into sharing tasks, it got harder and harder to put on an act.
What excuse could she give Brian for preferring to mope around the house? “I’ll pack a diaper bag.” She said without a lot of enthusiasm. “How long will we be gone?”
“We could drive down to Sandertown. I know a great casual seafood place there. We haven’t had dinner out since you brought the babies home. Isn’t it time we took the plunge?”
“Why?”
His eyes twinkled. “Well, for one thing, it’ll be more enjoyable now than when they’re older and can reach everything on the table. For another, you deserve a break from cooking.”
“You’ve cooked as many meals as I have.”
Brian fixed her with steady eyes. “Do you argue with every man who asks you out to dinner, Faith? Or is it just me?”
“Men never ask me to dinner.” She said, undergoing a sudden need to flee his inspection. The way he’d put that—-asking her out--made it sound like they’d be going on a date.
“Then I have serious doubts about Boston’s male population. That makes me all the more determined to drag you out today. I’ve never been through the museum here, have you? I hear it’s filled with items made by a bunch of contemporary artists.”
“All right. You win. I’d love to go through the museum and have dinner someplace. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if the babies both need changed and fed the minute the waiter serves you lobster.”
“Success has to do with good planning.” He said. “You’ll see.”
She did, indeed, and couldn’t help but rub it in four hours later when both babies sent up a howl not two seconds after the waiter served her and Brian steaming bowls of thick clam chowder.
Faith had looked forward to the warm stew. Outside, the day had turned quite blustery. She’d been more than ready to leave the beach and go inside for an early dinner. They’d visited the museum first, which she’d thoroughly enjoyed, and couldn’t believe Brian had let her wander to her heart’s content.
“What’s wrong with them?” Brian whispered, when his attempt to rock the carriers and quiet the infants failed.
“It’s called Murphy’s law.” Faith loosened the straps holding Elyse in her seat and, after straightening the blanket, picked up the baby and rocked her in her arms. “At the parents-of-multiples meeting last week, the topic was timing. A bunch of parents complained that whenever they sat down to a hot meal, got on the phone or started fooling around that was precisely when both babies decided to act up. Or three, in the case of triplets.”
Brian couldn’t say why his mind had stalled on her reference to sex. His partner at the clinic, who was always analyzing him, would say it was because he’d been celibate for nearly a year. Brian thought it was more likely because the subject had been on his mind too often lately. Rarely a night went by that he didn’t lie in his bed thinking of Faith lying next door in hers, He’d had some pretty vivid dreams after falling asleep, too.
He’d folded enough of Faith’s laundry to know what she wore underneath her clothes. She didn’t go for frills. Remembering that made him smile.
The nightgowns where nothing like the blatantly provocative ones Chloe had preferred. But Faith owned a plain white sleeveless cotton number with a thin bead of lace running around a short hem and a deep V-neck that left Brian sweating each time he pulled it out of the dryer.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Faith hissed. “Are you going to let Evan scream until he wakes the dead?”
Jolted out of his reverie, Brian shot a guilty glance around the busy dining room. “Everyone’s looking at us.” He said.
“No kidding.” Faith delivered a smirk insinuating that he was awfully dense. “Eat your soup.” She said, and sighed. “Hand me Evan. I’ll go see if the ladies room has a changing table. They might be wet again.”
“We changed them before we came in so we wouldn’t have to go through this.” Brian watched her gather both babies and the heavy diaper bag.
“I could say I told you so,” Faith muttered, excusing herself as she banged the diaper bag against another diner’s chair.
It was only after she left and Brian plunged a spoon into his soup that he realized every woman in the room glowered at him as if he somehow personified all the articles written about chauvinistic men. It didn’t help that everyone in the restaurant could still hear both babies wailing.
Brian recorked the bottle of wine he’d foolishly ordered. That, at least, they could take home. As a matter of fact, he thought, motioning to their waiter, they hadn’t ordered anything for their main course that couldn’t be stuffed into a doggie bag.
“Do you want your wife’s entrée delayed?” the waiter asked, nervously glancing toward the alcove from which the chorus continued.
Brian didn’t correct the man’s assumption that Faith was his wife. He just pulled out a money clip and peeled off a few bills. “Could you box the whole works, including the wine? Here, this should cover everything.”
The man backed away from the money. “I could hurry your dinner, sir. No sense both of you eating cold food.”
“The idea in coming here was to treat the lady,” Brian said, his voice sharper than intended. “We’ll pick up our doggie bag on the way out. I’ll go give her a hand.” Collecting the carriers and Faith’s purse, he wove his way through the tables, oblivious to the sympathy directed at him by male counterparts.
Unselfconscious, he tapped once on the door to the ladies’ room, then barged in. Faith glanced up, her relief palpable. She balanced both infants on a narrow couch, pinning Evan to the back of the seat with one hip while doing her best to keep the screaming Elyse from sliding off a slick changing pad. “Brian.” Faith blew at a curl that fell stubbornly over her right eye. “This place isn’t set up for kids and they were both completely wet again. I’m sorry if we’re spoiling your dinner.”
Brian lifted Evan and kissed his red little face. “Don’t apologize, Faith. It’s not your fault. I concede that going out to dinner was a stupid idea.”
“It was a lovely idea. Not very practical, as it turned out.” She lamented, snapping the last snap on Ellie’s pink overalls. “They’re so upset, I don’t know if we can calm them enough to sit through dinner.”
“We’re leaving.” He said, buckling Evan into his carrier. “They’ll be happier at home and so will we.”
“I hope so.” Faith murmured. “They both seem to have runny noses. More so than I’d expect from this crying jag.”
“Do you think it was too windy during our walk on the beach?”
“Too soon for that to have caused problems, I should think. Maybe what Dr. Sampson thought might be teething was really a cold.”
“Colds? But the weather’s been too mild, hasn’t it?”
“Spoken like a surgeon. Colds come from viruses, Doctor. They aren’t caused by weather.”
“Touché, Nurse. I’m sure I learned that in first-year medical school.”
“That’s the one drawback to taking the twins to Dr. Sampson. He knows we’re nurse and doctor. He expects us to have all the answers.” Faith grabbed her purse and the diaper bag. She opened the door, leaving Brian to gather up both infant carriers. “I feel he expects us to know more than we do.”
“Well, I’m not above telling him I’m in over my head. The youngest patient I’ve seen in a few years was the girl in Norway, and she’s fourteen. Oh, can you grab our sack of food?” Brian asked Faith. The cashier held it out as they passed.
Faith stepped to the front window. A mass of dark clouds had rolled in, and rain pelted the glass. “Why don’t you take all the extraneous junk to the car and drive around and pick us up? I’ll wait here with the twins.”
“I’ll do that.” Brian agreed. “Boy, this squall came out of nowhere.”
“It’s a freak storm.” Said the cashier. “We’ve been hearing reports all day. They’re saying hurricane-force winds. Haven’t you heard?” Her manner suggested they’d flown in from a different planet.
“Hurricane?” Faith and Brian said together. “We, uh...we’ve been pretty immersed in the twins, and haven’t listened to the news,” Brian added. “But we walked on the beach earlier and there were people everywhere.
“Probably still are.” The woman said with a grin.
Neither Faith nor Brian responded. They were both too busy staring at the rain that had begun to pound the pavement in earnest. Brian got out his car keys and arranged the items he needed to carry so that he'd have one free hand.
“I put the hoods to the carriers in the trunk, along with some heavier blankets. If it’s not too much trouble, could you bring those after you park out front?”
Nodding, he dashed out into the slanting rain. His hair and shirt were both soaked when he returned a few minutes later.
“It’s downright nasty out there.” Turning to the cashier, he said, “You’ve been listening to the radio. Any word on how far up the coast this extends?”
“The worst of it supposed to slam into Plymouth within the next hour or so. There are storm warnings posted all along the coast highway. No relief in sight until after midnight.” The young woman turned the volume up on her small radio, allowing Brian and Faith to hear the newscaster.
Brian’s scowl deepened as reports grew more ominous.
“What are you thinking?” Faith asked. She was unsettled, even though the babies had finally ceased fussing in their carriers, as she swayed them back and forth. Her arms couldn’t take much more of the constant strain. Two carriers and babies weren’t light.
“I’m not keen on the prospect of getting blown off the interstate,” Brian said. “Did you pack extra formula or any change of clothes for the twins?”
“I always pack a variety of outfits. They have one set of bottles left. That should be enough to get us home.”
“I’m thinking we should spend the night here.”
“But, Brian! We have nothing for the ten, two and six o’clock feedings!”
“They’re on a fairly common formula. We’ll stop at a store.”
The cashier couldn’t help but overhear their conversation. She interjected a word of advice. “The inns will be filling up. A lot of travelers have been caught off guard. After all, it’s barely into October. No one expected this storm. If the wind picks up much, local businesses will start to board up.”
Worried now, Faith pressed her forehead to the window, angling for a better look at the skies. “If it was just you and I,” she told Brian, “I’d be tempted to try and outrun the storm. I’m not so willing to take chances with the babies.”
“Exactly my feeling.” Brian blew out a relieved breath. “Listen, a cardiologist I know pretty well owns an old fishing cottage somewhere on the outskirts of Sandertown. He’s invited me numerous times to join him for a fishing excursion. The place might be no more than a glorified shack, but it should be reasonably warm and dry. If I can reach him, I’m sure he’ll let us stay there for the night. I know it has kitchen facilities.”
“I suppose it would be better than trying to take two babies to a Bed & Breakfast or an inn. But even if you reach your friend, how would we get into his house?”
“He’s offered me use of the place on short notice if I’m ever in the area. People who live here are the trusting sort. Porter said he keeps a key hanging on a peg near the front door.”
Faith pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t feel right staying there unless you talk to him first.”
“I have his number in an address book I keep in the glove box along with my cell phone. While you’re strapping in the carriers, I’ll give him a call.”
It so happened that Brian’s friend was at home and delighted to be of service. He’d just heard about the storm and been about to phone a neighbor to see if he’d shutter the windows. Now Brian could handle that chore. Otherwise, the two men kept the conversation brief. Brian wrote down detailed directions, including how to find the nearest grocery store.
“I guess we’re doing the right thing.” Faith exclaimed after Brian eased the car away from the curb and they were rocked by a hefty crosswind.
“I’ve never seen this place. Like I said, it could be primitive. Porter’s an old bachelor. Repairing bad tickers and fishing are all he ever talks about.”
They stopped at the store first, rather than having Brian go back out into the storm. Which was a good thing. The proprietor said he and his wife were about to close up for the night.
Wind and rain followed Brian into the car. The sack of groceries he plopped into Faith’s lap dripped, too.
“Brrr...” she rubbed her arms, then reached into the back seat and tucked the blankets tighter around the babies. Both had gone to sleep. “We’ve lived on the East Coast long enough. We ought to know better than to leave home without taking an umbrella and jacket, Brian. Whatever possessed us?”
“This is our first full day trip with the twins. We were so concerned with packing everything they needed, we forgot about checking the weather or preparing for ourselves.”
“I hope this house has heat.” Faith said suddenly.
“It’s supposed to.” Brian peered through the gusting rain, trying to read the numbers on the houses. “There it is. The grey and white one.”
“They all look alike, but that one has a porch. At least we can keep the babies dry while you unlock the door.”
“I’ll go open up and see about heat. You and the babies stay in the car for the time being.”
“I’m not helpless, Brian.”
“I know you’re not,” he said irritably. “But I got us into this fix. At least let me see to your comfort.”
Faith flinched as he slammed the door and disappeared into a swirl of wind and rain. Should she apologize for stepping on his pride? She just wasn’t used to having a man look out for her. Furthermore, she shouldn’t get out of the habit of looking out for herself. How many more weeks would Brian be around? The call regarding DNA results could come at any time now. Four to six weeks they’d said. On Monday, it would be four weeks.
Truth to be known, she already relied too heavily on him for his help with the babies. And for his companionship. She hadn’t had any male friend to laugh and share observations and debate ideas with in longer than she cared to remember. She’d miss that once Brian left. Faith had enjoyed their lively conversations. She watched as Brian slogged from window to window, dropping and locking the heavy wooden shutters in place. She’d miss him, dammit. Why not admit it?
He arrived back at the car to get her before she had a chance to become too maudlin. “It’s not a palace by any means,” he panted, hunched over the carriers as he raced with Faith to the porch. “But it’s not a total loser, either.” He added, his mouth twitching with a grin.
Stepping through the door, Faith wrinkled her nose. “It smells musty.”
“Oh? I thought it smelled fishy. But I didn’t find one rotting in the fridge or anything.”
“Well, it’s a fishing cottage,” Faith ventured, letting Brian close the door while she did a slow, three-hundred-sixty degree turn. Plank floors were covered with bright braided rugs. A leather couch and two overstuffed chairs sat grouped around a cheerfully burning fireplace. Two doors opened off the large square room. One was obviously the kitchen, the other a bedroom.
Faith’s gazed skittered around the entire perimeter again. One bedroom. Was that why Brian suddenly fell silent and appeared to be awaiting an explosion?
“I plugged in the fridge and put the last two bottles of formula and our leftovers from the restaurant inside.” He said, again pausing to give her time to speak. “The stove is ancient.” He informed her when she made no comment. “The good news is that we’ve got a fairly new microwave.”
“Now tell me the bad.” Faith said, assuming he’d mention that there was only one bed.
“The only heat in the whole house comes from the fireplace. The kitchen, bedroom and bathroom are cold as a polar bear’s behind.”
Faith noticed then how wet his shirt was across the shoulders and down the sleeves. In fact, he shivered uncontrollably. “This room will be cozy soon. Pull off that wet shirt and drape it over a chair near the fire. You can sit on the hearth until you warm up. I’ll take the twins from their carriers and let them stretch out on blankets on the couch.”
“You’re a good sport, Faith. But you can take the chair. I’d hate for the babies to catch a chill.”
“They have terry sleepers in the diaper bag. I’ll let the room warm up, though, before I change them. They have plenty of extra blankets. It’s you I’m worried about. All those trips to the car and wrestling with those shutters completely soaked your clothes.”
“I'd hate to take off my shirt and...offend you.”
“Offend me? Brian, I’m a nurse! I’m afraid there are no surprises left when it comes to a naked body.” She grinned meekly.
“I wouldn’t have thought so. But the first night I showed up at your door, I had the distinct impression you were bothered by my state of dress. Or rather, undress...”
Faith recalled that night vividly. She had reacted badly. Only because she’d liked what she’d seen of his well-shaped torso. He’d caught her off guard and she hadn’t had time to hide a purely sexual response. She certainly couldn’t tell him that. “I thought you’d gone back to New York, so I was shocked to see you.” There. Faith thought she’d covered quite admirably.
“In that case, I guess you won’t mind if I shed my jeans as well as the shirt. Wet denim is colder than wet cotton.”
“Be my guest.” She said, once she determined he wasn’t just trying to get a rise out of her. Being a doctor and all, he probably didn’t realize it was easier for her to deal with a half-naked patient than it was to make small talk while staring at the navy blue boxers of someone she had wicked dreams about. She knew the color of his boxers thanks to their shared laundry chores.
Faith felt her cheeks heat when it suddenly dawned on her that Brian had seen her underthings, too. No big deal to him. He wouldn’t fantasize about her white cotton panties. Chloe had always said they were boring. Now Faith almost wished she, too, had developed a taste for silk.
Elyse sneezed and immediately began to fuss, which jolted Faith right out of her flight of fancy. Or it did until Brian stood up and loped across the living room in nothing but boxers...which by chance weren’t navy blue, but yellow, grey and white plaid.
“Earlier it was Evan doing all the hacking. Should we dilute their next set of bottles? If they’re coming down with colds, we don’t want to clog them up.”
“For pity’s sake, Brian. You’re the one who’ll be clogged up if you keep prancing around in the altogether. I’m sure there’s an extra blanket in the bedroom you could wrap around yourself.” Even as the prim-sounding suggestion left her lips, Faith admitted that Brian’s bare skin looked toasty warm and touchable.
“Tell me again how you find no surprises when it comes to a naked body.”
Swallowing twice to dampen her dry mouth, Faith slid her hands around Elyse to keep from flattening her palms against the defined muscle in Brian’s stomach. A stomach hovering all too close to the end of her nose...
It was the first time Faith could recall being happy to have both babies crying at once. Thank goodness Brian scooped up Elyse and sauntered back to his chair, leaving her to soothe Evan.
Good grief, that was worse. Brian’s back view curled Faith’s toes right into the soles of her sneakers. She went hot, then cold and then hot again. Her reaction was so intense; she tested her forehead to see if maybe she’d developed a fever. No, her forehead felt cool. Clammy, but cool.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting sick, too?” Brian said as he studied her, once more safely across the room. He’d had to retreat or risk making a fool of himself by hauling her into his arms.
“I’m fine.” Faith reached for the diaper bag. “Evan's wet. I’m going to change him and then I’ll switch with you and get Ellie into her sleeper.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll wash my hands and prepare the bottles.”
“Dressed like that?”
Brian frowned. He wasn’t at all sure Faith wasn’t getting sick. She was acting odd. But maybe it was the storm. For the past ten minutes he’d seen the lightning crack through small gaps in the shutters. Thunder vied with pounding of rain. “If you want to fix the bottles, I’ll hold both of the little rascals. Remember to dilute their milk.”
“Won’t they be up twice as often?”
“Probably. I doubt we’ll get much sleeping done tonight, anyhow?”
“Because we have to share a bed?” Faith blurted.
Brian stared at her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. His mind began flipping back over the recent give-and-take. He started to wonder whether he wasn’t the only one having thoughts of a naughty nature. What would happen if he laid his cards on the table? If he admitted to having had dreams about her that he really shouldn’t? Still, if he’d misread the signs, Faith could really cry foul to her lawyer.
Maybe he’d just put out feelers and see how she responded. “I don’t have a problem with our sharing a bed, do you?”
“I ah, no...the twins will be quite comfortable in their carriers. But we'll be exhausted tomorrow if we don’t nab a few Z’s.”
Now Brian was afraid she hadn’t fully understood that his intention included more than sleeping. Why was this so hard? It wasn’t as if they were juveniles.
Nothing more was said. Faith changed both babies and prepared their bottles. Brian fed Elyse and she fed Evan. Even though their breathing was raspy, both babies drifted off to sleep.
“Are you hungry?” Faith asked when Brian rose and stoked the fire.
“Not for food.” He said boldly, deciding it was time to jack up the stakes.
If Faith had any doubts after their earlier modesties around the issue of bed, Brian had just made his intentions completely clear. Her heart began to pound as she checked to see the twins’ carriers were set solidly on the couch.
Straightening, her back still toward Brian, she clamped a hand across her jittery stomach. She felt rather than heard him walk up behind her. Yet she stiffened when he slid his arms around her waist and nuzzled the side of her neck with his lips.
“Second thoughts already?” he rumbled softly near her ear.
Faith didn’t trust herself to do more than shake her head. Then she worried about the sudden way this had come to pass. She’s harbored a crush on him forever. Did he know? Had he figured it out tonight? What was she to him—-a dalliance? A substitute for her sister? The thought caused Faith to shrug off the clever fingers that had slid under her shirt and were working towards the clasp of her bra.
As though reading her mind, Brian eased her back against him. “For the better part of a year after we met, Faith, hardly a day went by that I didn’t picture touching you like this.” A soft chuckle escaped his lips. “I know you’ll say all the surgical residents were young and horny back then, but there wasn’t another woman on the face of the earth who haunted my waking and sleeping thoughts like you did.”
Unexpectedly she turned in his arms, and they both caught their breath as their eyes locked. Anything she might have said Brian ended up swallowing as his mouth met hers in a deep kiss.
If he relaxed his shoulders and bent his head down slightly, she didn’t have to stand on tiptoe. Though Brian wasn’t tall, Faith was even shorter at five foot one. Which was a good thing, since her knees were shaking. Especially when she suddenly found her jeans pooled around her ankles. Brian stumbled backward; gripping her around the waist as he carried her to the chair, leaving her jeans on the rug.
“Aren’t we going into the bedroom?” She mumbled when he sat and pulled her astride his hips.
“Don’t think I can make it.” He muttered, trying again to fuse their mouths. His free hand plunged into the pocket of his drying jeans, pulling a condom out and holding it up slightly. “Something tells me that you aren’t on the pill. Are you?” He hesitated.
The desperate urge to find fulfillment, and the quiver in her stomach, didn’t abate even though her mind retreated. “You just happen to carry condoms in your bill roll?” she raised an eyebrow.
“Always. Or have you forgotten your sister wasn’t supposed to get pregnant?”
The mention of Chloe had the effect of a faceful of cold water. It wasn’t easy scrambling off Brian’s lap on legs made of sponge rubber, but she managed.
Brian could’ve bitten off his tongue. He’d realized immediately that he’d been a fool to bring up Chloe’s memory. And he should’ve known better; he’d long since figured out that Faith felt overshadowed in the presence of her younger sister. “Ah, hell, Faith.” He dropped the gold foil packet he’d finally extracted and swiped a shaking hand across his face. “My marriage was over a long time before the divorce. But as I said earlier, you played with my mind a lot longer, from the first day I met you. Dammit, you’re not Chloe’s stand-in!”
Faith’s hands shook equally hard, making it almost impossible for her to climb back into her jeans. “Then maybe you won’t mind telling me why, if you spent so much time thinking about me, you chose to marry Chloe.”
Brian decided his jeans had dried enough, and as this attempt at lovemaking was obviously going nowhere, he might as well put them on. He spoke through gritted teeth while struggling to fasten his zipper. “Unlike you, Chloe needed me. You were always so damn self-possessed. You didn’t need anyone.” He’d lashed out in frustration-—and he knew that his words wounded more vitriolic than he’d meant.
Hurt, and feeling her dreams dissolve around her, Faith snapped back. “Then nothing’s changed, Brian. I can still get along fine on my own.”
He might have refuted such a declaration, but just then both babies woke up screaming and coughing. Brian’s earlier prediction had come true. Neither he nor Faith did more than doze off for the rest of the very long night.
By morning, the storm had passed and moved up the coast. A neighbor told Brian the winds were now battering the coast of Maine.
He and Faith set out for Boston. Conversation was kept to a minimum. The babies both sounded congested, so she asked Brian to swing by Dr. Sampson’s office. By the time his staff was able to fit them in, Brian’s nose had begun to run and his head ached like fury. He noticed that Faith had bought a decongestant and cough drops for herself at the pharmacy.
“I’ve got a slight sore throat.” She said in answer to his raspy question about how she felt. “Go back to your apartment and get some sleep.” She told him in cool tones. “I’ve worked many a night feeling worse. The babies and I will get along fine...just fine.”
