The elevator in the building is broken again. Peggy sighs and shoulders her bag before stepping into the cold stairwell. Twelve flights isn’t so bad. At least that’s what she mutters as she begins the long ascent. Half way between floors nine and ten she finds another tenant perched on one of the steps, her breathing labored and knuckles white where she grips the railing.
“Are you alright?” Peggy asks, stopping below her.
The woman grumbles and Peggy notices how she cradles her belly with her other hand. Red flags begin to raise as she thinks back to the basic medical training she received as a new recruit.
“Yeah, it’s just a lot of stairs.” The woman, clad in a dirty diner uniform responds, finally looking up at Peggy. “Stupid elevator.” Peggy is startled for a moment by this stranger’s beauty; messy hair pulled back, tired blue eyes, and a soft smile.
Peggy relaxes and chuckles at the woman, “Can I help you get up to your floor? You seem to have a few bags.” Peggy waves her hand over the few grocery bags next to the woman.
“That would be amazing.” She smiles, pulling herself up and straightening her uniform over the small swell of what looks like an early pregnancy. “I’m Angie.”
“Peggy.” She shakes her hand then bends to pick up the bags on the steps. “Which floor?”
“Twelve.” She groans.
Peggy smiles, following her up to their floor. Angie unlocks her door and leads Peggy into a mess of boxes and old furniture.
“You must be the new neighbor?” Peggy asks, setting down the bags on the kitchen counter.
“Just moved in yesterday.” Angie sighs, hand hovering over her belly like she isn’t sure she should rest it there.
Peggy stares for a moment, “Well I’m just next door if you need anything. Welcome to the building.”
Peggy is almost out the door when she hears Angie, “Thank you, for the help.”
“Of course.” Peggy smiles, leaving Angie to her unpacking so she can fall into bed.
It’s been some time since she’s been so captivated by someone’s eyes, she thinks. So vivid, though clouded with sadness. In the few minutes Peggy spent with her new neighbor she noticed how hesitant she was about touching her belly. She wonders briefly about her before collapsing into her bed, letting exhaustion take over.
Peggy falls asleep to sound of old records bleeding through the walls and what she thinks might be muffled sobs. She frowns, but she convinces herself that she’s made it up, it wouldn’t be the first time her memories from work have haunted the beginnings of her dreams.
When she leaves for work the next morning, she finds a small container of cookies outside her door with a note: Thanks for the help. If you feel like helping a pregnant lady unpack, I’ll cook you dinner. –Angie
She thinks back to the few details she’d gathered from Angie’s apartment, not too many boxes and only enough groceries for one. How tired she looked when she saw Peggy coming up the stairs. Peggy digs in her purse to find a slip of paper and write out a note.
I’m more than happy to help, I should be back around 7. Then she thinks to add her phone number at the bottom. Peggy slips the note under her door and makes her way to the stairwell.
The hallway smells like garlic is what Peggy thinks when she steps out of the now working elevator. The smells seem to come from Angie’s apartment and Peggy smiles, remembering the promise of dinner if she helped unpack. When she knocks, Angie greets her with a tired smile and ushers her inside.
“Thank you so much,” Angie breathes.
“I’m more than happy to help,” she says, putting her bag down and toeing off her shoes by the door. “Where would you like me to start?”
Angie thinks and surveys the boxes piled around the living room. “How about with the rest of the kitchen stuff? I only took out what I needed.” She points to several boxes labeled KITCHEN before returning to the stove.
Peggy busies herself with her task; taking out a set of pots and pans, unwrapping plates and glasses, setting the flatware on the table to be sorted. Where all of the furniture is worn in and second hand, the cookware is expensive and polished, well taken care of.
“I assume cooking is passion of yours?” Peggy asks, pulling out a heavy cast iron Dutch oven.
“Something like that. I was sort of hoping I could be on one of those shows, like MasterChef or something.” She pauses, finding the next ingredient to add to the dish she’s making. “But then life got in the way.” She shrugs. “So tell me about you, English.”
“There’s not much to tell, honestly.” Peggy shrugs.
Angie eyes her like she doesn’t believe her, “How did you end up in New York?”
“Work. I was in the military and was discharged, honorably I should say.” Peggy eyes some sort of cooking implement that looks like a weapon and sets it down gently. “A friend of mine has a private security business and offered me a job.”
“Private security, huh? So you go around chasing bad guys while wearing some sort of stretchy outfit?” Angie asks, smiling over her shoulder.
“I believe that’s only in films. My job is rather boring most of the time.” She lies. No one needs to know that ‘Private Security’ and SHIELD are the same thing, should anyone know about SHIELD to begin with.
“That’s a shame, running around the city and secretly kicking someone’s ass sounds like fun.” She shrugs
Peggy chuckles, “What next?” she asks, breaking down the boxes she’s just emptied.
Angie looks around the apartment, her hand tentatively resting on the small swell of her belly, “Books?”
“I see I’m here for the heavy lifting.” Angie blushes and looks to the ground. “It’s alright of course!” Peggy says quickly. It’s been so long since she’s has a friend outside of work and she doesn’t want to ruin this one so quickly. She forgets sometimes that she can sound abrasive when she doesn’t mean to.
“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to.” Angie says quietly, eyes brimming with tears. And Peggy thinks maybe there’s more to that statement than Angie’s letting on.
“Angie,” Peggy says, moving towards her, “it’s not a problem, really. I’m more than happy to help. Besides, whatever you’re making smells wonderful.”
Angie wipes at her eyes with her sleeve, “Stupid hormones.” She tries to brush off her rush of emotion, though Peggy can see the lingering hurt there and wonders how it is Angie got to be here alone. “Food should be ready in about ten minutes.”
“Wonderful.” Peggy says as she lifts a box of books and carries it to the small bookshelf already in the corner. Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Tolstoy are the first to come out. Followed by other classics Peggy has always told herself she should read but never does. She smiles at the worn copies of Harry Potter, Peter Pan, and The Once and Future King. The second box is full of cookbooks; the pages spotted with oil and darkened with sauces that have bubbled over.
She thinks of the tablet and Kindle Howard have given her and the few books she owns hard copies of. Most of them gifts from her family and Steve. The only worn copy she owns of anything is the book on loss that she quietly picked up not long after Steve’s funeral. The books in her hand are full of warmth and life; a feeling of emptiness sits at the pit of her stomach.
Dinner with Angie is quiet and very much worth being used as muscle. While Angie asks questions about Peggy’s life, she is hesitant to answer anything about hers. She deflects better than most criminals in an interrogation room, though Peggy respects her need to protect her privacy and tries not to pry.
She does learn that Angie is a native New Yorker and is recently single, though she doesn’t elaborate. The subject causing her spine to straighten and her eyes to harden.
“How far along are you?” Peggy asks instead, hoping to ease the awkwardness that has fallen over them.
“14 weeks.” She says quietly, “I just sort of popped overnight, I’m still getting used to it.” She gestures to the small swell beneath her shirt.
“Are you excited?”
“Yeah,” she breathes, “and scared. Excited and scared, I guess.” She laughs nervously, “Sometimes it feels like I jumped on a one way train.”
Peggy smiles, unsure of what to say.
“Thank you, again.” Angie pushes some of her food around on her plate, “For helping. There isn’t really anyone else and I really appreciate it.”
“It’s my pleasure, Angie. It’s a nice change of neighbors too.”
“Oh?” Angie seems grateful for the shift in topic.
“Opera singer, a not well trained opera singer.” Angie grimaces and laughs at Peggy’s frown. “I hope you don’t plan on singing Verdi off key at three am.”
“Oh no, that’s, that’s special.” Angie laughs again and Peggy smiles at the sound.
They form a friendship around Peggy’s schedule and Angie’s cooking. Peggy stops by in the evenings to help put up pictures and put together a few ordered pieces of furniture to replace the old ones the last tenant left behind. Angie cooks up dish after dish, waving a wooden spoon around and getting more comfortable with resting her free hand over her ever growing belly.
While Peggy hasn’t accompanied her to any doctor’s appointments, she was there the first time Angie felt the baby move and there to feel some particularly hard kicks.
“Peggy! Peggy!” Angie shouts from her bedroom.
Peggy jumps from her place on the sofa and runs in to see Angie standing in her room with a large smile. Angie’s only wearing leggings and her bra, the shirt she was putting on discarded to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Asks Peggy, eyes searching for anything that might be wrong.
“C’mere.” She grabs Peggy’s hand and presses it to her belly.
“What are you -” and then she feels it, the small nudge against her palm. “Is that -?”
“Yeah,” Angie breathes, smiling with happy tears in her eyes.
“That’s incredible!” Peggy laughs, feeling more nudges. She kneels in front of Angie, “Hello baby, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Angie gasps lightly when Peggy smiles, the feeling of intimacy overwhelming. Peggy feels her chest tighten and removes her hands, standing and clearing her throat. “Thank you, for sharing that with me.” She says quietly.
“I’m glad you were here.” Angie says just as quietly.
Peggy nods awkwardly and leaves Angie to finish getting dressed before they leave for the movies. She’s entertained the idea of a relationship with Angie but has no idea where to begin. Angie is still recovering from the hurt of being left by her ex and Peggy is figuring out how to toe the line between friend and partner. Angie is the first person since Steve’s death to turn her head and the more time they spend together the more Peggy wants to take care of her.
Angie steps into the living room and smooths her hands over her shirt and smiles awkwardly, “Ready to go?”
Throughout the movie Peggy watches out of the corner of her eye every time Angie moves her hands to feel a new place the baby kicks. She has no idea what the movie was about.
Today Peggy has just finished putting together the crib Angie had ordered. It sits in the corner, waiting to be placed in Angie’s room once the baby arrives. Angie had watched while she prepared the kitchen for the meal she would be cooking that evening, smiling when Peggy would quietly curse at the instructions.
Peggy tells her about the military and Steve. How he was killed in a piloting accident three years before.
“He sounds like a good guy,” Angie says, chopping fresh tomatoes to add to the pan.
“He was.” She breathes, “Though his memory doesn’t sting like it used to.” It’s the first time she’s said so aloud, the lack of guilt is a relief.
“That’s good. I wish I could think of my ex and not want to set everything on fire.” She mutters.
Peggy leans on the counter in the kitchen, watching her measure out ingredients with practiced ease. Angie moves around the kitchen like a dancer moves on the stage. Though she moves slower than she did the first time she made them dinner four months ago, her belly getting in the way of opening drawers. “What happened?” It’s the first time Peggy has dared to ask.
“We were supposed to grow old,” Angie waves her spoon around, “but then she decided she didn’t want kids and left for Montana or something.” She tries to hide the hurt in her voice, though Peggy has learned how to hear its subtleties.
“That’s awful, Angie, I’m so sorry.” Peggy offers.
“I thought maybe she wasn’t feeling connected to the baby, like she was an outsider. Maybe at the first sonogram when we could really see the baby she’d feel like a mom. But she freaked out and left a few days later.” Angie sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I mean, I guess things hadn’t been great for a while, but I thought-we both thought having a baby would bring us closer. Instead she got cold and distant.” Angie wipes her tears away again and sighs, “I couldn’t really afford the place we had and my folks never really loved the whole gay thing, so I found this place and here we are.”
Peggy studies the way her back is tense, how she won’t turn around and face her. “Angie,” she prompts quietly, “I’m here for whatever you need. No questions asked.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” She sounds defeated, like telling her story has drained whatever energy she had left.
“Angie.” Peggy tries again.
“I get it. Poor queer Angie. Can’t find a job as an actress so she’s stuck waiting tables. Now she’s going to be a single mom because who wants to be with the perpetual failure?” Her tone has turned bitter, all of her old wounds opening anew.
Peggy stands behind her, taking the spoon out of her hand and turning the burner off before slowly turning Angie to face her. Angie’s face is wet and flushed from her tears and Peggy notices just how tired she looks. “Come here,” she pulls Angie’s body close, holding her as she begins to cry in earnest. In the months that she’s known her, Angie has never cried like this, never let her walls down enough to let Peggy see her struggling. She’s always hiding behind a fading smile that never quite reaches her eyes.
She leads them to the sofa and sits Angie down, holding her while she cries. Peggy realizes she has no words of comfort to offer this woman who has so quickly become her friend. She doesn’t tell her that everything will be all right, because she doesn’t know that it will. Angie still has two months until her due date, she has bills to pay and more double shifts than any one person should have. She can feel the loneliness and desperation rolling off of Angie.
“I’m here.” Is all she can say, though it must be the right thing because Angie grips her harder. She can feel Angie’s belly press into her own, the small life in there kicking against the two of them. When her tears have stopped Angie doesn’t let go of Peggy. “Why don’t I finish making dinner?” She asks quietly.
“You don’t know how to cook.” Angie replies, her voice quiet and tired.
“I’ll order something. You rest.” Peggy pulls away, helping Angie to lie on her side and cover her with a blanket. She falls asleep before Peggy reaches for her phone.
In the hour that Peggy waits for their food to arrive, she puts away the unfinished dinner, cleans the kitchen and puts fresh linens on Angie’s bed. The buzzer startles Peggy but doesn’t wake Angie from her nap. She quietly thanks the deliveryman and sets the table with their takeout. Peggy kneels in front of Angie, taking in how even asleep she looks worried. It isn’t the first time Peggy thought her beautiful.
“Angie?” Peggy whispers, running her fingers through her hair. “It’s time to eat, Angie.”
Angie groans, squeezing her eyes shut tighter.
“Come on darling, you need to eat.” Peggy tells her again.
Angie blinks owlishly and slowly rises, taking Peggy’s offered hand. “What did you order?”
“Thai. I found a menu on the side of the fridge.” Peggy tells her, sitting across from Angie at the small table.
Angie stares at the food in front of her, “How did you know this is my favorite?”
“It was a little bit of guesswork.” Angie stares and Peggy sighs, “The menu was worn where you must hold it and there’s a dent over it where I guess you’ve poked it with your finger.”
Angie chuckles, “Just a desk job my ass.”
They eat quietly until the silence starts to feel heavy, awkward.
“I’m sorry about earlier.” Angie mutters, not meeting Peggy’s eyes.
“There’s no need to apologize, Angie. You’re under a great deal of stress. You’re allowed to be overwhelmed.”
“All of the time?” She asks quietly. “What if I can’t do this?”
“Oh Angie.” Peggy says quietly, pulling away from the table so she can wrap her arms around Angie. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can’t promise me that.”
“I can try my hardest, which I dare say is better than most.” Angie sniffles in response. “How about I draw you a bath?”
“I probably don’t fit.” Angie whines.
“Nonsense.” Peggy tells her, moving into the bathroom to begin filling the tub. When she’s finished, Peggy guides Angie into the bathroom and presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving Angie to undress herself and relax. Only Angie doesn’t close the door all the way.
Peggy feels a blush spread across her cheeks and down her neck at the sight of smooth, bare skin. Angie is soft round, her skin glowing in the low light. She hears her sigh as she sinks into the warm water.
“She is pregnant and you are ridiculous.” Peggy mutters to herself, putting away the leftovers and cleaning the rest of the kitchen.
Angie emerges from the bathroom twenty minutes later looking a little more relaxed, though still exhausted. She holds her robe closed in a tight fist, “Thank you, for helping.”
“Of course, darling.” Peggy smiles, pushing away from the counter. “I should let you get some rest.”
Angie gives her a strained smile, “I was hoping, if it isn’t too much to ask,” she pauses, not looking at Peggy, “would you stay?”
Peggy stares, a night holding Angie is something she never allows herself to really think about. At least not in the daylight. They’re friends, and Angie doesn’t need Peggy’s growing affections thrown on top of her own problems. But the way Angie’s eyes plead, the need to be held, has her answering before Angie can take anything back.
“Let me go get changed and I’ll be right back.” Peggy smiles, hoping that Angie can’t see the want in her own eyes.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Two minutes.”
Peggy all but sprints into her own apartment, speeding through her nightly routine to return to Angie.
“You can do this. You can spend a night with your very attractive and very pregnant friend. Your friend who you happen to be falling in love with. You can do this.” Peggy tells her reflection before letting out a long breath. She looks at the photo of Steve on her vanity, “I can do this, right?” She closes her eyes and remembers the first time Steve tried speaking to her, “Oh what would you know.”
When she returns to Angie’s apartment, Angie has just finished pulling on her own pajamas and is sitting on the edge of her bed.
“I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do this.” She says, staring at the top of her belly.
“Angie, it’s – would you please look at me?” Peggy asks quietly, sitting on the bed next to her. “It’s fine, and I’m here for you. I can be that person, I’d like to be.”
Instead of answering, Angie pulls Peggy into a tight hug. Peggy feels her start to relax against her, “Come on, I think we could both use some sleep.”
She watches as Angie scoots back to the top of the bed and pulls the blankets out, holding one side open for Peggy to slide under. Moments after the click of the lamp douses them in darkness Angie curls into Peggy’s side. Peggy smiles and pulls Angie’s body closer, feeling her belly press into her and Angie’s head rest over her heart.
“Sleep,” she kisses the top of Angie’s head. “I’ll be here when you wake.”
Angie sleeps through her alarm, which Peggy turns off. She gently runs her fingers through Angie’s hair, watching the way she curls tighter into Peggy’s side. When Angie’s phone rings beside the bed and shows L&L on it’s screen, she answers quietly, “Hello?”
“Angie?” The voice on the other end asks. “You okay? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”
“Angie’s asleep.” Peggy tells the woman.
“Oh thank god.” The woman sighs. “Tell her to take the day off, we’ll cover for her.”
“Thank you.” Peggy responds, gently putting the phone back on the side table.
Angie sleeps for another two hours, waking slowly and smiling sleepily at Peggy. “What time is it?”
“Just after ten.” Peggy cups her cheek, running her thumb where the bags under her eyes have lessened.
Angie tenses, quickly pulling away from Peggy, “I have to go to work! I’m late!” She cries, standing from the bed and searching for clean clothes.
“They called, they’re covering your shifts.” Peggy tells her calmly.
“I have to work, I need –”
“You need to rest.” Peggy pleads, she can see the panic rising in Angie.
“No, I need to go to work.” She stumbles into the wall, catching herself before she trips.
“Angie, you need to rest.” Angie shakes her head. “Think about the baby.” Peggy tries, and Angie freezes in her movement.
“I am!” She shouts. “I have to work, you don’t understand. You think having a baby is cheap? You think I want the two of us to starve? Or not have a home? I have to work Peggy, because no one else is going to do it.” Angie braces her hands on the wall, keeping her back to Peggy. “It’s just me, okay? Everyone else always leaves.”
Peggy watches her from the bed, the way she supports herself with one arm, her other coming to wrap around her belly. Her hair falling in messy waves to hide her face. Peggy wants nothing more than to hold her and shield her from obstacles life keeps throwing at her. She stands from the bed and slowly moves to stand behind Angie, wrapping her arms around her.
“Please let me take care you, please.” She whispers.
“You’ll leave.” Angie whispers, broken.
“I won’t.” Peggy promises, resting her cheek against Angie’s back.
Angie begins to cry again, great heaving sobs that make it hard for her to stand, so Peggy pulls her back and sits the two of them on the edge of the bed. She pulls Angie into her lap, letting her curl up as best she can and hold onto Peggy.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, to either of you.” Peggy whispers into her hair. “You’ve been so strong, why don’t you let me help?”
Angie nods against her chest and eventually cries herself back to sleep. It’s another hour before she wakes again, her stomach grumbling loudly.
“Eggs.” She mumbles into Peggy’s shoulder.
“Okay.” Peggy kisses the top of her head, stepping out of the dark bedroom and into the kitchen to start scrambling some eggs. A few minutes later they’re both sitting at the table, and Peggy watches in horror as Angie adds more hot sauce to her eggs than any living human should ingest.
“What?” Angie asks, hot sauce still in hand.
“The baby is going to be born breathing fire.”
Angie smiles, “I never used to like the stuff, and then one day it was all I could think about. Nothing was hot enough. Weird right?”
It’s much later than Peggy had thought and her ribs ache in an all too familiar way. Her apartment is quiet when she enters and all she can think about is a hot shower and falling into bed. She throws her broken phone onto the counter and sighs; it took the brunt of a hit from a nightstick that was meant for her hip.
Then she hears what sounds like a muffled sob and a knock on the wall.
“Angie?” She calls, just loud enough to be heard through the wall. The only sound she hears is another cry. “I’m coming!” She shouts, running to the door.
Peggy unlocks Angie’s door with her spare key and finds Angie hunched over by the wall. She’s panting and flushed.
“Angie?”
“My water broke.” She says through clenched teeth, “Where were you?”
“Working, I’m here now. Breathe darling, let’s get you to a hospital.” Peggy leads her out of the apartment, grabbing the small bag she’d made Angie pack a few days before.
When Peggy hails a cab she has to reassure the driver that no, Angie will not be giving birth in the back of his cab.
Peggy helps Angie out of the cab and guides her to the entrance and quickly signs her in. Within minutes they’re shown to a room and Peggy has helped Angie into a gown. Angie begging her not to leave has Peggy taking her hand and pressing a kiss to the side of her head.
“I’m not going anywhere, I right here.”
“Okay.” Angie breathes, letting Peggy lead her to the bed where a nurse takes her vitals.
Peggy keeps her promise; she doesn’t leave through the hours of Angie’s labor, helping her breathe through the contractions and feeding her ice chips into the early hours of the morning. Though Peggy is still exhausted from the chase she had been a part of and her ribs still ache, she is more alert than ever.
“Peggy, what if I can’t do this?” She asks, exhausted.
“Of course you can do this, you’ve already come so far.” Peggy brushes some of her hair behind Angie’s hair.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Angie whispers.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.” And she means it, squeezing Angie’s hand as she starts breathing through a contraction.
It’s another two hours before a doctor comes in and tells her it’s time to start pushing. Though even then it takes a while for her to make progress, her energy dropping even more with each push.
“I’m too tired, Peggy, I can’t.” Angie cries, falling back and staring with glassy eyes.
“You can.” Peggy tells her, wiping the sweat from her face with a clean cloth. “You’re the only one who can do this, and you are the strongest person I know.”
Angie pushes with a renewed strength, listening to the instructions of the doctor and nurse and shouting with each push. What feels like moments later a tiny cry pierces the sounds of the room and Angie laughs and sobs at the sound.
“Congratulations Mama, you’ve got a healthy little girl.” The nurse says, laying the baby girl on Angie’s chest.
“Hi.” Angie croaks, holding her close and running a gentle finger through her matted hair.
“She’s perfect.” Peggy whispers from beside them.
“Sofia.” Angie whispers, kissing her forehead and smiling, “Sofia.”
“Welcome to the world.” Peggy says, smiling at Angie holding her baby for the first time.
Angie watches the nurse take her away to weigh and measure her, her tired eyes never losing sight of the tiny, “Six pounds!” person she made. When she is returned to Angie, Sofia’s soft cries calm at the feel of her mother’s body beneath her.
“You’re so small.” She whispers, “And you’re really here.”
Peggy never leaves her side, not even when one of the nurses comes in to help Angie nurse for the first time. Angie looks nervous, though she doesn’t ask for Peggy to leave. The nurse helps her to untie the side of her gown and helps Angie adjust the way she holds the baby. Sofia is stubborn and takes coaxing to latch on, Peggy hides her amusement at the similarity to her mother. But once she has, she calms, Angie never taking her eyes away from her daughter’s face.
“I made you.” She says in wonder, “I’m going to love you no matter what.”
They both quietly watch Sofia nurse for the first time, Angie watching in wonder as she holds her. Peggy lowers the lights in the room and closes the curtain against the morning sun. “I think she’s asleep.” Peggy notes as she sits back down, Sofia no longer suckling at Angie’s breast.
Angie smiles and readjusts, letting Peggy take Sofia for the first time, “You know, girls used to be really excited about seeing these and you go ahead and fall asleep.”
Peggy snorts, shaking her head as she traces her fingers over Sofia’s face. Her new skin so soft against the war rough pads of Peggy’s fingers, “You really are quite something.” She whispers, pressing a light kiss to her forehead. She looks up to see a tired smile on Angie’s face. “You should rest. We’ll be here when you wake.”
Peggy holds Sofia against her chest while Angie sleeps, her face turned to where Peggy sits in the rocking chair.
“You are quite lucky, if I may say. Your mother is rather extraordinary.” Peggy whispers. “You’re going to learn that she is very stubborn, but she loves with everything she has.” She rests her palm over Sofia’s back, feeling the small breaths she takes, only hours old and Peggy knows she’d do anything for her. “And if it’s alright with you, I’d very much like to love the both of you.”
Peggy relaxes into the chair, holding Sofia close while she sleeps. She misses the small smile on Angie’s face and startles when she hears her whisper, “I think we’d both like that a lot.”