He moves towards the sound of someone knocking on his door, with a crying baby in his arms. He doesn't check the peephole, he simply unlocks the door, and pulls it open. He finds a familiar redhead standing in front of him. She wears heels, a charcoal pencil skirt, and a coral colored button down. She enters the room, and closes the door behind her.

"I am sorry to call so late, I just didn't know who else to call. Regina made it very clear that she didn't want to have any part of this. I can't make her stop crying."

"Angelo first of all it's not that late, it is barely nine. Second of all I don't mind."

"Kathryn are you sure?"

"I'll have her in bed within fifteen minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Hand her over."

"Ok," he agrees.

Kathryn takes the baby from him. She smiles at the crying baby. "Hi, Abby."

"I have tried everything," he says in his thick accent, "She has eaten, and her diaper has been changed. I bathed her. I sang to her, I read to her. I tried the vacuum. I did everything."

Kathryn points to the couch, "Sit down, and relax. I'll put her to sleep, and then maybe you can get a little bit of rest."

"I never realized how hard this was going to be, on my own. Thank you so much."

"I am going to take her to her room."

"Ok," he nods in agreement.

She carries the baby into her room. Within two minutes the baby stops crying. Angelo vacates his seat on the couch. He heads into the nursery to see what's happened. He finds Kathryn standing in front of the crib. He stops next to her. He looks inside, and finds that the baby is sound asleep.

"What did you do to her?"

"I just swaddled her."

He stares at the baby burrito. He shakes his head, "That's it?"

"Yeah," she nods.

"How did you know that was the problem?"

"I think that Bay would still sleep swaddled."

"Did she cry like this? Abby is so loud. She just cries, and cries."

"Bay cried the first couple of nights."

"How did you figure out what the problem was?"

"I tried to figure out what they had done differently when we were in the hospital."

"Other than give her to the wrong mother?"

She smirks, "That isn't funny at all."

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

"At the hospital they swaddled her. Once I realized that was all she needed, she was a happy camper."

"Bay was a happy camper?"

"She was an easy baby," Kathryn admits.

"Bay?" he questions.

"She was a dream. She slept through the night at three weeks old."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Toby was my terrorist as a baby."

"Toby?"

"He had the worst acid reflux. He never stopped screaming. By the time I got him to stop screaming he was walking. He was very high energy."

"Did you consider medication?"

"I hate to admit that it was discussed. I didn't think that he was ever going to sleep through the night."

"How old was he?"

"I remember the first time that he slept through the night, vividly."

"Because?"

"I kept thinking I was finally going to get a good night's sleep."

"Did you?"

"I found out that I was pregnant a week later," she reveals.

"Ouch."

"We should probably go before we wake her up."

"Yeah," he nods.

They leave the room. He flips off the light on the way out. She heads for the living room.

"Thank you so much."

"Not a problem. I should probably get going. I am sure that you are exhausted."

"It is nice to have an adult conversation. I have spent all day reading about princesses, and ballerinas."

"You know she isn't old enough to understand what you're reading her. John used to read the finance section of the newspaper to Bay."

"Did it sink in?"

"It put her to sleep. He would read to her before going to work, and then she would be down for her morning nap."

"Maybe I will try boring Abby to sleep next time."

Kathryn smiles, "It is worth a try."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"I should get going."

"Sit," he points to the barstool, "Have a drink. I would really appreciate ten minutes of adult conversation."

"Ok," she takes a seat on the barstool.

"What do you want?"

"Whatever you make will be fine," she answers.

He whips something up. He places the glass in front of her. He takes a seat on the barstool next to her.

"I really appreciate you helping me. I must admit it is nice to see you when we aren't in the middle of disagreeing about something."

She sips her drink, "True."

"I feel like I'm the enemy most of the time," he admits.

"I think that you're misunderstood."

"John hates me. The look on his face when he is around me says, 'I could run you over with my car, and be ok with it,' you know?"

"John has a strong personality, and some very strong opinions."

"I know what I did was wrong. I have made some bad decisions. I am trying to make up for it now. I just wish that people could see that."

"I see that," she admits, emptying her glass.

"You want another one."

"I'm driving, I really shouldn't."

"It was pretty good, huh?"

"Yeah," she nods in admission.

"I was a bartender for a brief time when I was younger."

"I did not know that about you."

"It's kind of ironic. A bartender who was with an alcoholic."

Kathryn smiles, revealing her dimples, "I wasn't going to say it."