Jimmy fussed again, driven by hunger. She scooped him up from the blanket on the floor where she’d placed both boys. “Hush, little baby, your mother will be home soon.” She fed him a bottle of sugar water and finally tried to nurse him, but didn’t have enough milk for two. Thank God, Charlie was having a good day. With two cranky babies on her hands, she might run away like Pai apparently had. No, Teagan knew better; something felt wrong. Her friend would never leave Jimmy. She leaned her forehead against the windowpane, willing Pai to hurry, willing her to be all right. Stately maples lined the parking area. Teagan searched them too. Where was the family of chickadees? When she’d bought the condo, the bird-filled trees cinched the deal, and she watched them daily. This time, she saw only a few sparrows pecking in the boulevard. Even her favorite birds deserted her. Waiting for Pai was worse than waiting for Mac’s boat when a thick cloud smothered Puget Sound, like the one when she was eleven years old. It had been a thick soupy fog, damp enough to chill right through the woolen coat Mac had passed off to her. She had sat shivering on the edge of the pier waiting, worrying if he and the others would safely dock or spend the night on the water. Two days later, his boat finally rode the gentle rock of the water in his moorage. Relief spurred Teagan and she ran down the pier. Mac stepped out of the cabin and waved to her. “I thought you were lost,”
