been a little wild.”
Sparrow did have trusted Sparrows who he would allow to enter our private residences. They were few in number and always supervised. They were the men and women who brought deliveries—large furniture-type deliveries—all the way to the apartments or penthouse. They were contractors and workers who painted and remodeled. However, it hadn’t been one of those people who painted the nursery we’d just entered. They had added a pocket door for access from the master bedroom suite directly to the nursery, but Araneae and I had painted the walls. Just like Madeline and I had painted her baby’s new room.
According to their doctor, the paint we used was safe and the painting was done in their second trimesters. Madeline’s nursery was a light shade of blue with white trim. Her furniture was white, the crib, changing table, dresser, bookcase, and more.
“Oh, I love it,” Laurel said. “My niece’s nursery, a long time ago, was green and yellow. It’s so bright.”
“Since we’ve decided not to learn the gender of our baby, I wanted something that could be for a boy or a girl.” Araneae walked over to the light wood-toned baby bed and ran her fingertips over the soft mint green sheet covered in pictures of sparrows, custom made for the newest Sparrow’s arrival. “Every time I get nervous about the baby, I come in here and it makes me feel better.” She turned toward the large rocking recliner. “I imagine sitting in that chair, holding our child.” She giggled. “And the changing table...”
“Don’t tell me,” I said, “you imagine Sparrow standing there changing a diaper.”
Araneae shook her head. “Even my imagination isn’t that good.”
“He’ll help,” Laurel said.
We both turned to her.
“Is that some psychology insight?” I asked.
“No. I saw him earlier as they were opening that body bag. Don’t get me wrong. I completely respect all he’s done and what he does. The institute is amazing, and I’ve seen him in public. I mostly see him here. I have heard about Allister Sparrow and also met Mrs. Sparrow.”
Araneae’s nose wrinkled. “That is why I will forever be known as Araneae Sparrow.” She shrugged. “I guess even Mrs. Sterling Sparrow, but that’s a bit old-fashioned for me.”
“There’s no mistaking Genevieve for you, Araneae, or vice versa,” I said.
“Back to my theory,” Laurel said with a grin. “Sterling has prided himself on being everything his father was and wasn’t.”
“Isn’t that a bit contradictory?” I asked.
Laurel shrugged. “Better than.” She looked at Araneae. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
Araneae nodded. “Better at the good things and the polar opposite of the bad.”
“From what you’ve been able to glean,” Laurel asked, “how was Allister’s and Genevieve’s parenting skills?”
Before Araneae answered, I asked, “You’re saying even with all of Chicago on his shoulders, Sparrow will change a diaper.”
Laurel laughed. “I can’t promise diaper changes. I can promise that the man I’ve gotten to know is determined, and when he cares, he cares fiercely. Today, he wouldn’t admit it, but he was worried. He was frightened for Ruby and for Patrick. At the same time, he cared about the two Sparrows who were on the scene. And I bet at the same time, he was thinking about Madeline and the baby.” She smiled. “He wants to be the father his wasn’t.” She reached out and gently grasped Araneae’s arm. “He may just need you to show him the way.”
Araneae took in a deep breath. “What if I don’t know what to do?”
“You could call your mother-in-law.”
Araneae shook her head.
“May I suggest,” I said, “either of your mothers? I know the judge didn’t raise a baby, but I bet she knows stuff. Rebecca raised you, and there’s always Madeline.”
Araneae nodded. “I’m sure I’ll talk to my mothers. I do plan on watching and helping Madeline to learn.”
My phone buzzed. When I looked up, my chest was as full of excitement as it had been all day. “Ruby is on her way up.” There was another message. “And Renita is waiting in the garage,” I said to the other two ladies.
We all hurried from the nursery to the large staircase. As we reached the first floor of the penthouse, we heard the elevator open. All three of us slowed as we stepped back, allowing Sparrow an open path. Ruby was cradled in his arms, her knees bent and face against his chest. Her eyes were closed.
“Oh,” Araneae said, her fingers going to her lips. “Is she going to be all right?”
Sparrow’s gaze met his wife’s. “I won’t accept