and moved on to scrub the cereal bowls.
“Oh my goodness. I’m so embarrassed.” Camille stood in the doorway wearing a thick robe, her hair in a towel. “The preacher’s doing my dishes—my mother will disown me.”
Evie chuckled. “Don’t worry. I make him do them at home too. It’s good for his soul.”
Seth nodded in solemn agreement. He looked more like the kid caught stealing a candy bar than a preacher, though—with that chagrined duck of his chin. “I don’t mind, really.” He silently pleaded with Evie for help. Clearly, he was out of his depth with in-home visits. Put the guy in front of 30 people and he’ll carry them to Jesus’s feet, but put him in a kitchen and he’s two left feet.
Camille rushed forward and tried to take the scrubber out of Evie’s hand. “I was just coming in to get this all under control. Sam was rocking the baby while I took a shower and …” Her eyes welled up with tears, and she sniffed loudly. “I didn’t want anyone to see the house like this.”
“Like what?” Evie ushered her to the small table. “Lived in? Like a family, who cares more about welcoming a new baby more than chores, lives here?”
Camille sucked in a ragged breath and swiped at her eyes. “You make it sound much better than it is.”
“Nonsense.” She motioned for Seth to grab plates. He broke into action, handing them down out of the cupboard to Jerom, who was all serious expressions now that his mom was crying at the table. He set them near Camille’s elbow. Evie spaced them out at each place. Seth was right behind with silverware and glasses.
Evie continued talking as she unloaded the dinner they’d brought. “You’ve just had a baby. What greater work is there than that? All of this can wait.”
With the table set, Seth and Jerom stepped back.
Camille sniffed. “It smells good.”
Evie pulled the foil off the dish. “It’s nothing fancy, but my mom swore it was the best thing for a new mother—if only because it smelled so good.”
They chuckled together.
Mr. Mitchell appeared in the doorway. His hair stood on end, as if he’d just woken up from a nap. By the bleary look in his eye, the assumption wasn’t too far off. He held a bundle of blue blankets to his shoulder. “What’s this?” he asked.
Camille smiled. “Dinner.” His stomach growled, and she blanched. “You are hungry.” She turned to Evie. “He told me not to worry about dinner because he wasn’t hungry. Clearly, he’s lying to me.”
Seth stepped forward. “Maybe we can let this one slide.”
Mr. Mitchell gave him a thankful look. “Would you mind?” He motioned for Seth to take the baby.
Seth threw his hands behind his back. “Uh … Maybe Evie is a better choice for that job. I’ll … sweep or something.”
Evie stepped forward, feeling confident. She’d held many a newborn niece and nephew. She took the little guy and settled him into the crook of her arm. “What’s his name?”
“Tayson,” Jerom answered. “And he’s the little brother, and I’m the big brother, and Mommy says that’s all there’s ever going to be because she’s too old to do this again.”
Evie barely held back her giggle.
Camille threw a look at her husband, who shrugged.
“Eat,” Evie told them. “I’ll bounce-walk so he stays asleep for a while.” She walked into the front room, leaving Seth to sweep and the family to eat. She stared down at the newborn, and something tugged inside her chest, revealing a motherly yearning she’d previously avoided.
“Why are you so precious?” she whispered to little Tayson. His top lip was nothing more than a blip hanging over his bottom lip, and his chin was a perfect little ball. Perhaps the change in her circumstances—the fact that she was a married woman—had unlocked these grand desires within her. She cooed like a dove over his fluffy black hair and his tiny sighs of contentment.
“Maybe you’ll be a mom soon,” Camille said softly as she reached for her son.
Evie had been so wrapped up in admiring Tayson that she hadn’t even noticed Camille coming into the room. Her whole body flushed with the possibility. She told herself to calm down. Babies weren’t in her future. She’d known that going in, though, so there was no lamenting the loss of something she’d never had. “I wish that were true. I’m not sure that’s in my cards, though.” She carefully removed her arm as Camille took Tayson’s weight. “I’m certainly