Dee notched down the volume with the remote. “I would tell you to make yourself comfortable, but—”
“I figured you wouldn’t mind some company while you worked. I’m Emily. Emily Stone.” She patted the sleeping baby on her little round belly. “This is Madison.”
Still no clue who the infant belonged to and Dee didn’t bother asking. Her overtaxed brain seemed to do better by assimilating information as it came to her.
Emily appeared to be settling in for a long stay, and Dee wasn’t sure she had enough energy for the mental gymnastics needed to dodge more questions. “Weren’t you going to build a snowman?”
Emily tore her doughnut open. “Like I can wait another minute without the inside skinny on you.”
“There’s nothing to know.” What an understatement.
“Yeah, right. I figure I’ll just hang out. Madison’s gotta eat soon anyway.” Emily sipped her milk. Her curious eyes peered over the rim.
Dee eyed the cup, her stomach simultaneously growling and rolling. Best to stay away from food. She took in the girl’s Army fatigue pants and tight white T-shirt, hair-thin silver chains floating along her collarbone.
“So?” Emily licked away her milk mustache.
The girl wasn’t going to leave without something. The truth, or as close as she could guess, seemed a safe bet.
“My boyfriend skipped out on me.” Dee spritzed the mirror with Windex and began wiping.
“That bites. Guess I’m really lucky to have Chase.” The baby whimpered and Emily lifted her like a pro.
Then she hiked up her T-shirt and latched the baby onto her breast.
Dee blinked, surprised. Well, that solved one mystery, and brought an unwelcome swell of relief that the baby was Jacob’s niece.
Emily frowned, her hand cupping Madison’s head as the baby nursed. “I didn’t think to ask. Do you mind my nursing her in front of you?”
Dee shook off her distracting thoughts. “No. Of course not. We all have to eat, right?”
Emily’s face smoothed into a smile. “You’re cool. Good.” The sheets rustled. A small slurp sounded, before Emily continued, “Okay, so your guy blew out. How did you end up with a bottle of Windex and a broom?”
“I’m helping out to pay my bill until the storm passes.”
Emily set her cup on the end table. “Must have been some party last night.”
At least she could answer that one honestly. “I don’t remember.”
“That really bites.” Sticking her finger into the center of her doughnut, she scooped out the filling. She sucked it clean and flung the rest of the pastry in the trash can. “Do you think my brother’s hot?”
Dee’s hand froze on the mirror. “Pardon?”
“Hot. A real hottie. Good-looking. Well, for an old guy, anyway.”
How old am I? The question blindsided her. When would she get used to questioning the most elementary things about herself and coming up empty? Hopefully she wouldn’t have to.
So how old was she? Emily seemed a child. Jacob Stone looked to be around thirty and felt like a contemporary. Dee decided that put her somewhere in her early thirties, as well.
She swiped along the edges of the mirror. No one could call Jacob anything but virile. “He’s not exactly ancient.”
Emily grinned smugly before continuing. “He doesn’t live here in this dump, in case you were wondering. He’s in the Air Force, stationed in South Carolina. He’s an in-flight mechanic for one of the big cargo planes,” she said with unmistakable pride as she shifted the baby to the other side to feed. “He’s served a lot of time in the Middle East. He even got hurt on a mission last Christmas.”
His broad chest in that T-shirt came to mind, along with the sling he’d first worn. “That must have been scary for you.”
The teen stared down at her baby’s head and smoothed a hand over the fine blond hair. “It’s been a tough couple of months, with having Madison, then Jacob getting hurt and Dad dying.”
Dee ached to hug the young girl carrying so many adult problems at once. She started to move toward her when Emily tossed back her head with a smile and stand-off bravado. “So, do you think Jacob is hot?”