Page 61 of The Guest Cottage

Bemused, Marlow just stared at her.Thiswas what Pixie wanted? Merely for someone to believe her, to trust her?

Compassion made her heart squeeze. “I believe you.”

Pixie searched her face. “You do? I mean, really?”

“Don’t forget. I knew Dylan, too. Clearly not as well as I thought I did, but I know it wasn’t beyond him to deceive you. After all, he deceived me as well.”

“I . . . Thank you.” Pixie leaned back in the seat. “You can’t know how much that means to me.”

Brisk again, Marlow said, “I’m glad Cort got your phone service back on. Let’s make sure you have a calendar on it, and then we’ll get an appointment set up with the doctor.” She warned, “I’ll want to go with you, because it’s important for me to know the plan. It’s an intrusion—”

“I’d be glad of the company if you’re sure you don’t mind.” Pixie couldn’t quite meet her gaze now as she stammered, “This has all been so scary. For a little while I thought I’d lose Andy, or that I’d die, and then who would care for him? Understanding all the medical terms and the treatment, especially when I felt like crud, was pretty overwhelming.”

Marlow’s heart felt pummeled. “I can only imagine. You’re not alone anymore, though.”

With shaking hands, Pixie covered her face and her shoulders sank, but only seconds later she straightened again and said with strong conviction, “Thank you. For everything. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Marlow nodded. At this point, she wasgladPixie had come to her. What a strange turn of events. “We’ll drive your car so I can fill the tank, but understand, Pixie. I don’t want you going anywhere without telling me. I’m not going to invest in you just so you can take off again.”

“I wouldn’t. I barely found my way here. I don’t know where the nearest grocery store is, and even if I did, I don’t have enough money to spend it there.”

“You’ll be making wages soon enough, so that will change.” One more thing to tackle. “I don’t know Cort’s plans, but you won’t be able to stay here indefinitely. For now, though, I want you to stay put.”

“Even if I wanted to leave, I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

That was the crux of the problem. Pixie needed options, and Marlow planned to see that she got them.

“Somehow,” Pixie said, “I’ll find a way to repay you and Mr. Easton.” She glanced around the lake house in wonder. “This place is so beautiful. I can’t believe he let me stay here last night.”

Marlow, too, glanced around. The lake house was minuscule, with a combo kitchen/sitting area that had only enough room for a two-seater table. However, it had a lot of windows with lovely views, and it sat much closer to the lake than her cottage. The best feature, in Marlow’s opinion, was a small but tidy covered deck off the back where she could put a chair—maybe a rocking chair, actually—so Pixie could enjoy the evening or morning air.

Unlike the guest cottage where Marlow was staying, the lake house lacked fine finishes and upgrades. The kitchen was a single row of basic oak cabinets over a sink and stove with a narrow pantry squeezed in next to an apartment-sized refrigerator. No dishwasher. There were tile countertops, and a linoleum floor meant to look like wood. The space flowed into the sitting area, where a single love seat presided over one chair, one side table, and a narrow console that held a small, older TV.

She had to remind herself that to Pixie, this was a safe haven, and more security than she had known for months.

To shake off her sudden worry, Marlow addressed the next topic. “I did some research before visiting. From what I’ve found, it’s important to get the baby on a schedule—”

“I won’t let him cry,” Pixie objected, for once being firm. “It almost kills me to hear him upset.”

That pleased Marlow. “Of course not. I wouldn’t want you to.”

Pixie went limp in relief. “Oh. Well . . . that’s good.”

“I only meant that it’s a good idea to try to start as you hope to continue with a routine bedtime and, when possible, rising at the same time each day.”

“I usually nurse him first, play with him for a while, then when he sleeps again, I shower and dress.”

Feeling like a mother hen, Marlow asked, “And did you eat this morning? It’s important to have food with your antibiotic.”

“I had some cereal. I was going to see what else there is, try to get organized a little while Andy was napping this morning. Mr. Easton brought in stuff, but I’m not even sure what. Yesterday was . . . a busy day.”

With Andy asleep, she could have been going through everything now, and instead Marlow was visiting. “I could help you if you don’t mind the company.” And then she could see what else Pixie might need—like tissues.

“You’ve done so much already.”

“Would you rather I leave so you can have a little peace and quiet?”

“No! I didn’t mean that.” She looked around again. “I feel like this is more your place than mine, since you and Mr. Easton are together.”

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