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praise. Then she practically tackles me with a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
    And I’ll be
so
glad when you have that baby and your hormones return to normal. Although, to be perfectly frank, normal for Darcy isn’t
     much less neurotic than hormonal. I study her as she waddles to her SUV and climbs into the driver’s seat.
    I take in a shuddering breath to calm my crazy emotions, fighting back tears as I walk to the minivan. I can’t bear the thought
     of being separated from these children of mine.
    I open the sliding side door.
    “Told you,” Ari says, and I get the feeling she’s not talking to me.
    “Is Darcy driving us to Dad’s?” Shawn’s big, sad eyes question me.
    “Yes. I need to take care of some things here. Do you mind?”
    He gives a little shrug and drops his gaze to his lap. “Are you coming to stay with us at Daddy’s?”
    I choke back a knee-jerk flippant comment and steady myself. “No, sweetheart.”
    “Why not?” Jakey pipes in.
    Oh, maybe because watching Rick and Darcy cuddle might cause hives to break out all over my body. Because smiling when I want
     to scream might cause an uncontrollable twitch in my eye. I take a breath. But to find an acceptable excuse for my son . .
     . that’s the task. “Because Darcy is too busy getting ready for the baby to have extra company.”
    A frown forms between his eyes like he’s trying to make the connection. “Are you going to come over later to see us?”
    His wide blue eyes are making me feel like a slug. “Not tonight, honey. I have to figure out where I’m staying, and I’ll have
     to go shopping before the stores close.” Which I estimate is in about two hours.
    Tears well up in his eyes. “Okay.” He slides out of the van and wraps his arms around my waist. I gather him close.
    “It’ll be all right, sweetie. We’ll all be back home before you know it.” Just before they climb into Darcy’s SUV, I hug each
     of my children long and hard and even Tommy hangs on just a bit longer than he normally would. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    Greg stands silently behind me as we watch them drive away. And I think it hits us both at the same time. There is no way
     I can stay with his mother. I mean sure, she’s a lovely lady and she came to Darcy’s rescue during the whole Christmas luncheon
     thing last year. (Darcy wanted to decorate with new decorations including a blasphemous—
    according to the pastor’s aunt—Christmas tree. The entire women’s group sided with the ancient woman out of habit until the
     voice of reason, in the form of Greg’s mom, came to Darcy’s defense.) So I have a lot of admiration and affection for Mrs.
     Lewis. But I think we’ve jumped the gun a bit with our impulsive grasping at straws to get me out of Darcy’s clutches.
    Judging by Greg’s oh-dear-Lord-what-have-I-done silence, I’d say he’s thinking the same thing about now.
    In theory, it seems like a good plan, but even in the best of circumstances, living with someone can cause a bit of a strain.
     Problems between his mother and me might dampen my relationship with Greg. And I’m not the easiest person to live with while
     I’m in writing mode. I don’t like to be interrupted even for nice reasons—like supper.
    Greg’s worried expression adds to his telltale silence, so I decide to put him out of his misery. “It’s okay, Greg. I honestly
     don’t need to stay at your mom’s. I can probably sleep on my couch downstairs.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. My mom is going to be delighted to have you.” A quick cough into a large tanned fist is the first sign
     of a man trying to avoid facing the harsh truth.
    “No, seriously. It wouldn’t work.” I give him a little fingertip tap on the arm. “I’m really not very good at being company,”
     I say with what I hope is a quirky I’m-letting-you-off-the-hook grin. “I leave my shoes and clothes thrown around. I never
     put the lid back on the toothpaste.