Page 29 of Coast

The door opened again, bringing in Caymen and Velle. Great.

“Whose baby is that?” Caymen asked.

“Mine,” Zoe said, half-raising a hand.

Velle’s gaze slid in her direction. “So, this is Zoe.”

“That’s me,” she said, shooting me a questioning gaze.

In my arms, Lainey fussed, likely bothered by the voices.

“Let’s take her somewhere quieter so she can finish her bottle,” I said, nodding my head toward the stairs. “Cherry, hand her another slice.”

“I’m fine,” Zoe insisted.

“Cher,” I said.

Cherry’s gaze slid over Zoe’s thin frame, then piled two more slices on the plate.

“Thanks,” I told her, going up the stairs. With each step, the noise got lower and the baby calmed more.

“She’s used to a certain amount of chaos,” Zoe said, following me into my room. “Given how I drag her around all the time. But that was a little loud for her.”

“It’s a little loud for anyone,” I agreed, shouldering my door closed.

I didn’t give much thought to my room before. Honestly, it was almost the exact same as it had been since I moved in.

Queen bed—the blue and white striped sheets were a gift from one of the club old ladies—two black nightstands with lamps you could find at any retailer, a dresser, and a TV.

Really, the only thing I’d added was the recliner I nodded for Zoe to sit down in as I sat on the edge of the bed.

I didn’t always sleep well, and it only made it worse to toss and turn, so I’d bought the recliner to sit in and watch TV until my eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer.

I slept in that damn chair more than in my bed.

But the edge of the mattress was nice and bouncy to jiggle Lainey as her mother settled in and ate another slice of pizza.

I paused halfway through, turning Lainey on my lap and holding her face in the crook of my thumb and forefinger, chubby cheeks smushing up, as I patted her back.

“You’re really good with her,” Zoe said between ravenous bites.

“She’s pretty easy,” I said, my mind flashing back to other babies in another life.

“She is. I mean, I have no frame of reference or anything. But she definitely goes with the flow. Never really complains no matter how many times I take her in and out of her car seat or the carrier. And she loves the long walks with the cute dogs.”

Food delivery and dog walking.

She really was doing everything she could to cobble together an income while juggling a baby. Judging by the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders, she was still barely scraping by.

“Here,” I said, passing Zoe the remote. “Put something on to try to drown out all that hollering downstairs.”

Zoe scrolled through the options, a strange look I didn’t know her well enough to decipher on her face.

I started to feed Lainey the second half of her bottle as her mother chose some movie about dancers and settled back with an oddly serene look on her face.

“Reach down on your right; there’s a lever to put the feet—there you go.”

It didn’t take long until she had the chair leaned back and was stifling a yawn. Then another.

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