Tess sighed in something like relief when Sage returned with the news that Maggie was sleeping. Or envy – she was tired too. But they, of course, didn’t have the luxury: there were other things to settle first. She hadn’t had time to change yet, so she had tucked the spectacles away in an inside pocket and massaged her hair free from where it had been tucked away, feeling the headache forming – from this, if not from that – and had leaned against the kitchen counter in Archer’s clothes. Declan was here, and Saff, but she had been too busy thinking to say much to them yet. Not until Sage was back. It was – really up to Sage.
Deep down Tess had always felt like they had gotten away with something they shouldn’t, back when Maggie’d been born. A living, breathing child was – not just a narrow miss, a scrape to get out of. No, a child had been something that would come back to bite them, in one way or another.
Still, it would have been nice if the coming-back-to-bite-them hadn’t been today.
“First things first,” Tess said, matter-of-fact, because she could feel Declan’s expectant gaze on her (expectant and not judgemental, she hoped; she hadn’t had time to discern his reaction to all this) and because Sage’s head was in her hands, which was not especially conducive to making life-altering decisions at the best of times, “she’s very sweet.” She looked like Sage, and blessedly looked like she had been well-cared for until now. And something about her chubby cheeks reminded Tess of the long but happy days of her childhood, when her younger sisters had all been bouncing or toddling around the old family shop in London. This is not a burden, she wanted to say. She’s ours as much as she is yours. She reached over and squeezed Sage’s shoulder.
“The way I see it,” she added, more seriously, “we’ve two choices. Either you can give her to her father,” – and Tess still didn’t know who the man had been, which really said it all as to what she thought of that damnable option – “or she stays with you.” With us, she meant, but that went without saying. They could work everything else out after that – somehow – but she needed to know Sage actually wanted her here, before they faced the consequences.
Deep down Tess had always felt like they had gotten away with something they shouldn’t, back when Maggie’d been born. A living, breathing child was – not just a narrow miss, a scrape to get out of. No, a child had been something that would come back to bite them, in one way or another.
Still, it would have been nice if the coming-back-to-bite-them hadn’t been today.
“First things first,” Tess said, matter-of-fact, because she could feel Declan’s expectant gaze on her (expectant and not judgemental, she hoped; she hadn’t had time to discern his reaction to all this) and because Sage’s head was in her hands, which was not especially conducive to making life-altering decisions at the best of times, “she’s very sweet.” She looked like Sage, and blessedly looked like she had been well-cared for until now. And something about her chubby cheeks reminded Tess of the long but happy days of her childhood, when her younger sisters had all been bouncing or toddling around the old family shop in London. This is not a burden, she wanted to say. She’s ours as much as she is yours. She reached over and squeezed Sage’s shoulder.
“The way I see it,” she added, more seriously, “we’ve two choices. Either you can give her to her father,” – and Tess still didn’t know who the man had been, which really said it all as to what she thought of that damnable option – “or she stays with you.” With us, she meant, but that went without saying. They could work everything else out after that – somehow – but she needed to know Sage actually wanted her here, before they faced the consequences.
