She wasn’t sure if she was doing it because she was frightened, or because she wanted to keep a tight grip on her own legs to make sure she didn’t go to answer the door. She didn’t trust anyone anymore, and that included herself. The knocking continued. ‘I’m not home,’ she muttered into the pillow, not daring to shout it but praying that somehow the person outside would be convinced. ‘I’m not home I’m not home I’m not home…’ Jessica recited it over and over, like a…oh, god, fuck no, not like a mantra. Like a prayer. Like she was doing the Jedi Mind Trick on whoever was out there. (But she knew who was out there, she knew who must be out there, and they wouldn’t go away, they’d never leave her alone–) The knocking stopped. Jessica took one long, slow, hesitant breath. Then another. Still no sound of knocking. Slowly, reluctantly, she untensed her body and let go of herself. Still no knocking. She counted, extremely slowly, to sixty. Every number, she expected to hear the knocking. Somehow, Jesse’s mom seemed to back off then, too. Maybe it was my mother she was competing with and not me. Regardless, Emily had three loving, doting parents.By her third birthday, Emily was calling both Lily and me ‘mommy’ and Bruce ‘daddy.’“Why don’t you join us?” Carla asked Lily at our annual holiday party. It was big enough now that I actually hired a caterer to serve the food so I could just enjoy the party. When Carla had broached the subject of her women’s retreat to discuss making Minneapolis more friendly toward women in business, I shrugged. I’d never thought of myself as a woman in business. I had a project and I went out and sold it. I’d joined the National Realtor’s Association, but that was the only organization I belonged to, even now that I had my broker’s license. “Certainly with as much time as you spend guiding students, you’ve heard some things and come up with some ideas,” Carla pressed. “I could really use you.”“What do you think?” Lily asked as we snuggled.
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