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you could bring up the diaper bag too, that would be great.”
    He nodded and left the room.
    “Well, girls, let’s see what we can do to make you comfortable.” Charlene laughed when Jessie blew a raspberry before smiling beatifically. “Are you going to be the class clown?” she teased.
    Jessie gurgled and tipped sideways before righting herself and reaching for Jackie’s bear.
    “Oh no you don’t, kiddo.” Charlene made sure each little girl had their own stuffed animal before calling the front desk. The clerk assured her he would arrange to have three high chairs from the restaurant sent to the room immediately. He also confirmed that Nick had requested three cribs during check-in and that someone would be delivering and setting them up within a half hour.
    Satisfied that arrangements were under way, Charlene barely had time to replace the phone in its cradle before Nick returned with the box containing baby paraphernalia and two bags.
    For the next two hours, neither she nor Nick had a moment to draw a deep breath. The high chairs were delivered while he was bringing in the luggage. Later, Charlene and Nick spooned food into little mouths, wiped chins and sticky fingers and tried to keep strained carrots from staining their own clothes.
    Neither of them wanted to tackle eating dinner in the restaurant downstairs while accompanied by the triplets, so they ordered in. Nick insisted Charlene eat first, and she hurried to chew bites of surprisingly good pasta and chicken while he lay on the carpet, rolling rubber balls to the triplets. By the time Charlene’s plate was empty, all three babies were yawning and rubbing their eyes.
    The two adults switched places—Nick taking Charlene’s chair to eat his steak, Jessie perched on his knee while Jackie played on the floor at his feet. Charlene toted Jenny into the bathroom and popped her into the tub to scrub the smears of strained plums and carrots from her face and out of her hair.
    By the time she had Jenny dried, freshly diapered and tucked into footed white pajamas patterned with little brown monkeys, Nick had finished eating.
    “Hey, look at you,” he said to Jenny. “What happened to the purple-and-orange face paint?”
    Charlene laughed. “She even had it in her hair.”
    “I think they all do.” Nick rubbed his hand over Jessie’s black curls and grimaced.
    “Definitely sticky.”
    “I’m guessing that’s the strained plums,” Charlene said. She handed Jenny to him and lifted Jessie into her arms. “Will you watch her and Jackie while I put Jessie in the tub?”
    “Sure—but I can bathe her if you’d like a break. I’m sure I can manage.”
    “No, I’m fine. Besides,” she perched Jessie on her hip and started unbuttoning and unsnapping the baby’s pants and knit shirt, “I’m already wet from being splashed by Jenny. One of us might as well stay dry.”
    Nicholas wished she hadn’t pointed out that she’d been splashed with bathwater. He’d noticed the wet spots on her T-shirt and the way the damp cotton clung to her curves in interesting places. He was trying damned hard to ignore his body’s reaction—and he was losing the battle.
    “Uh, yeah. Okay, then. I’ll keep these two occupied out here.” He perched Jenny on his lap and she settled against him, her lashes half-lowered, apparently content to sit quietly. Nick bent his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo from her damp curls.
    Something about the baby’s warm weight resting trustingly in his arms and the smell of clean soap touched off an onslaught of unexpected emotion, followed quickly by a slam of grief that caught him off guard. The sound of splashing and gurgles from the bathroom, accompanied by Charlene’s murmured reply, only heightened the pain in Nick’s chest.
    Stan and Amy must have fed and bathed the girls every night. Stan probably held Jenny just like this.
    How was it possible that Stan and Amy were gone—and their children left alone? In what