A/N: Thanks as always to my betas, Jan, Barbara, and Alison.

Chapter 10

February 2013

The day after Lizzy's first playdate with Louisa, New York came to a total standstill for the second time in four months. On Friday, February 8, winter storm Nemo dumped huge amounts of snow across New England and down into New York and Connecticut, paralyzing many of the major cities in the Northeast. At first Lizzy scoffed at the idea that it was going to be very bad—the meteorologists were always going overboard with this whole "superstorm" thing. In the end, though, she decided to get prepared, just in case. New York City ended up with only 12 inches of snow, which wasn't very serious. But a lot of people on Long Island and in Connecticut who were still recovering from Sandy got hit really hard, again. Some of them still didn't have power from the hurricane in October. This was the last thing they needed on top of all that. Lizzy sent off another boatload of money to the Red Cross for disaster relief. They were going to need it.

During the worst of the storm, Lizzy and Will and most other people stayed indoors, as the mayor had asked. Will didn't go to work on Friday, and Elena stayed home, too, even though the storm wasn't due until the afternoon. Will and Lizzy lolled around most of the day on the living room floor with Emma. She was really holding her head up well now, and they watched together as she expertly kicked her leg over and rolled from her back onto her tummy. Now the big challenge was whether she could roll onto her stomach from her back. It was so exciting! They tried out a few new foods on her, puréed prunes and puréed peaches, puréed carrots and peas. She spit each one out, still seeming to prefer breast milk. They talked to her and listened carefully to what she said back. It seemed that she was trying to mimic their words. They put her in a sitting position and caught her when she fell over in slow motion. All in all, they agreed they had never seen such an adorable, wonderful, brilliant, beautiful child, and that they were the luckiest parents in the whole world.

Like most New Yorkers, Lizzy had stocked up on groceries in anticipation of the storm. She'd had a big order delivered from one of the organic markets in the neighborhood on Thursday. She knew that they might actually have to cook if the storm was bad enough, so she bought things she hadn't had in the house for years: a little fresh meat, veggies to roast, garlic and onions, salad greens.

Someone—someone who didn't know them very well, obviously—had given them a cookbook as a wedding present years ago, and they'd never opened it up before. But now, on Friday afternoon, Lizzy searched the bookshelves in one of the guest rooms for it and took it out into the living room, blowing a little dust off the cover as she walked. She set it down on the floor, and she and Will looked at it curiously for a moment.

Lizzy reached out and poked it with her finger, pulling back quickly as if it had burned her. "What does it do?" she joked.

"I don't know. I've never seen anything like it before," said Will, the corner of his mouth quirking up a little.

Lizzy cracked open the book and thumbed through it. It was some kind of French-inspired American cookbook, but it looked simple enough. Beef stew would be a really yummy thing to eat on a cold, snowy day like today, she thought, so she looked for that. She found something that they had most of the ingredients for, and decided to make it, along with some crusty bread that had been in the grocery order. It turned out so well, even without potatoes, celery or a bay leaf, that Lizzy thought she might try cooking again some day, provided she could figure out how to get Emma to agree to sit down in a chair or something. She didn't think that Emma, who now faced forward in the baby carrier, and very sharp knives would mix very well. Cooking really wasn't so bad, she thought, when she had all the time in the world to do it and when there was nowhere else she had to be.

While Lizzy chopped and sautéed, Will played with Emma in the living room. For a while, the two of them looked out the window, watching the wind whipping trees and debris around. After that, Will got out his family photo albums and showed Emma pictures. From the kitchen, she could hear his narration.

"That's me, when I was a little baby. Can you believe that Daddy was a baby once? It's true. I used to be as small as you. That's your Grandma Anne and Grandpa Bill. You've never met them because they died a long, long time ago. Look at that beautiful dress she's wearing! Wow. They were dressed up to go somewhere really fancy. See this cute little girl? That's your Aunt Georgie. You've never met her, either, but maybe you will one day. She's my little sister. You can see, she's a lot younger than me. That's us together, when I was in high school. These are my aunts and uncles, your great-aunts and uncles, that means Grandma's brothers and sisters. But you've never met them, either. This one is my cousin Richard and me when we were little. He's your...well, let's call him Uncle Richard. You saw him and his wife Eleanor last month."

Hearing this made Lizzy happy, but very sad at the same time. She was happy because Will was sharing his past and introducing Emma to the family, but sad because it brought home to her once again how estranged, how cut off from everyone who should have loved and supported him, he was. Was it time to make more of an effort to reach out to Will's family? He was so alone in the world, in many ways, and she wasn't sure that she and Emma were enough. Her family, lunatics that they were, was sure no substitute.

That evening after she nursed Emma to sleep, she made her way sleepily back out to the entertainment room where Will was watching a movie on TV. He was slumped down low with his feet up on the coffee table.

"What are you watching?" she asked, curling up against him and pulling his arm around her.

"'The Royal Tenenbaums,'" he said a little ruefully.

"Oh, dear, dysfunctional families on your mind?"

"Yeah, a little." He squeezed her tighter for a moment.

"Well, at least it's not 'A Long Hot Summer,' or something like that. Or 'I, Claudius,' with everyone killing each other."

He smiled a little and shook his head. "No, we're not that bad."

"Is it the pictures that got you thinking, or something else?"

"I guess looking at the album just made me think of Georgie. She hasn't been back in touch with Richard since the end of December."

"Do you want to try to reach out to her? Or to try to patch things up with your aunts and uncles and cousins?"

"I don't think it would be a good idea, with Georgie. Not really sure about the rest."

"Well, let me know. I'll do whatever you need me to do."

He turned and looked into her eyes for a moment before leaning over and kissing her tenderly, his hand on the back of her head. "Thanks. I don't know. Maybe you and Emma are all the family I need."

She tilted her head to look back at him, and then rested her head on his shoulder. "All right, but it's OK if you need more than just us. There are lots of kinds of familial love, and you're entitled to them all, if you want them."

He put his free arm around her, too, and ran his hand down her side, where it came to rest on her hip. "All right. Are you in the mood for some conjugal love? Or are you too tired?"

"No, not too tired. I've been feeling a little better every day this week, now that I can nap when I need to." She gazed at his beautiful face, still sad around the eyes, a little scruffy since he hadn't shaved for work. "Poor sweetheart."

"What? I'm OK."

"No, I think you need some serious cheering up. Come lie down on my couch and tell Dr. Lizzy all about it." She waggled her eyebrows at him and leaned over to give him a big, inviting kiss. Then she stood up and pulled him into the guest room.

Lizzy kicked off the session by asking some probing questions about his wishes and desires. She wasn't entirely satisfied by his responses—he seemed to be holding something back. She decided that the appropriate treatment at this time was some ego-stroking, so she stroked his ego gently at first, but with increasing firmness and speed until she finally got the result she was looking for. At last, his super-ego relaxed its customary death grip on his id, which finally and completely took over. Ah, the raging sea, the unpredictable undertow of the id unleashed, she thought, as she took a deep breath and dove right in. My, the water was fine.

Admittedly, it was a little rushed because, after all, they only had time for a 50-minute session before Emma woke up and lit up the baby monitor with her cries. As they lay wrapped in each others' arms on the bed in the guest room, Lizzy said, "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? A little therapy can do wonders for a person."

"Yeah," Will said, still panting a little bit, "I think I might have to switch therapists for good. Dr. Andrews never did that for me." Dr. Andrews was the therapist Will had seen a few years before, when things had been really bad with Georgie. He was a skinny little guy in his sixties who looked like a flea wearing black horn-rimmed glasses.

"Well, I should hope not. That move is going in the permanent repertoire, I think."

Will laughed. "Yes, please. How did you even think of that?"

Lizzy shrugged. "You know, I read an article about it in a professional journal. We therapist types have to be creative when our first approach hits a roadblock."

Will let out a big gusty sigh as he relaxed completely.

Lizzy propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. "Tell me about your childhood," she said, doing her best Sigmund Freud imitation.

He chuckled. "What do you want to know?"

"You tell me. It seems to be on your mind lately, but you hardly ever talk about it. Were you happy?"

"Well...you know, my parents weren't particularly happy together, and that tends to, sort of, poison the whole family in a way, right?

"Yes, in my experience." Lizzy looked up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. She could have said a lot more on that subject, but it was his turn to talk.

"Yeah, so like I've said, my dad wasn't around very much, between the work and, I guess, all the women. I don't really know how or why, but I think they tried to patch things up around the time Georgie was born. That wasn't successful, obviously."

"And your mom?"

"She was very busy, too, planning events and doing stuff with the Trust. I don't really know what she did all day. She didn't talk to me about it."

"So who did you spend time with?"

"Adults, you mean? My nanny, Mrs. Llewellyn, of course, when I was little. I think I told you, she retired and went back to the U.K. right around the time Georgie was born. I think she was in her sixties. Thinking about it now, seeing how demanding Emma is, I think maybe she wasn't up to taking care of another little baby. After that we had Mrs. Martinez, but I wasn't that close to her. She mostly looked after Georgie."

"Did she pick you up after school and that kind of thing?"

"No, I was in middle school by that time. I had tutors and classes and clubs and all that after school. Our driver picked me up and took me where I needed to go."

"Didn't you ever just hang around and, I don't know, play with your friends?"

Will shrugged. "Like with neighbors or something? No, there weren't any kids in our building. But of course I did spend time with the other kids from Renwick in the clubs and things I mentioned before." Renwick was the Renwick Preparatory Academy for Boys and Girls, where all the Darcys had always gone and always would go.

"Like what? Karate or chess or something?"

"Don't laugh—in seventh grade I was president of the investment club."

Lizzy couldn't help it. Lying on her back, she laughed so hard that tears ran down into her ears. "No freaking way!" she gasped when she finally caught her breath. "You were twelve years old and you had an investment club?"

The corner of Will's mouth quirked up. "You bet. Our parents wanted us all to learn how to manage our money ourselves. We all had substantial portfolios in real life, and we ran simulations of different investment strategies in the stock and bond markets. Every quarter, our parents gave us a penny on the dollar for our profits, and we had to pay them a penny on the dollar for our losses. It was very educational."

"Wow. I'll say. Meanwhile, after school I was vacuuming or playing with worms in the backyard with my sisters, or watching cartoons while eating tubs of Cool Whip. Didn't you want to do that kind of thing, too? Have some fun?"

"Frankly, it wasn't that fun or interesting at home. I could read or watch TV or do homework. Talk to the staff. Anyway, I made a bargain with my dad. I agreed to do investment club and some other stuff he wanted me to do a couple of days a week, and he let me do squash club and some other stuff I wanted to do a couple of days a week."

"What was the other stuff he wanted you to do? I mean, it's great that he took an interest, right?"

"Yeah, every year he handed me a list of stuff that he wanted me to do. It was a big deal the first time I came back at him with a counter-proposal."

"So, what was on his list?"

"You know, stuff I didn't want to do." Will looked down and watched his finger tracing a circle on the bedspread.

Lizzy noticed he was studiously avoiding answering the question. "And what was that? Polo lessons? Bridge club? How to hold a martini glass?"

Will sighed. "Etiquette and ballroom dancing, among other things, if you must know."

"Get out! Really? You're serious? That sounds like what your mom would want, not your dad, anyway."

"Sadly, I am very serious. How else do you learn how to be a proper escort at the débutante ball, or which fork to use at the formal dinner at that débutante ball?"

"Well...I never really thought about it. I assumed it was in the water or something."

"Nope. It's every pre-teen boy's dream, as you might imagine," he said wryly.

"So you bargained your way out of it?"

"No, of course not. But I got less of it, and I got some other things I wanted. And probably you're right that my dad might have let me get out of it because actually those were things my mom wanted me to do, not him."

"Huh. So I guess that your dad had some pretty firm ideas about how you should live your life," she said, thinking about what he'd told her years ago about his struggles with his dad over his major in college.

"He had pretty firm ideas about everything. You can see it in how he ran the company, too. He micromanaged everything there, too. A little dictatorship."

Lizzy reflected for a few beats about what he'd said. "It also sounds like maybe you were kind of lonely. Is that right?"

"Uh...I'm not sure I'd put it that way, exactly, but I guess it sort of captures it, yes."

Lizzy lay back down and snaked her arms around him. She wondered if he had any idea of all the things he had missed, when in other ways he had had everything.

"Didn't you have any other kids around to play with?"

"My cousins, sometimes, yeah. They lived in the city for part of the year."

"Huh." She thought some more. "Well, is all of this how you envision Emma growing up? Is this what you want for Emma, too?"

He shook his head. "No, definitely not. You and I, we're already so different from that, together. Or, like today, the kind of day we had today, just sitting around and enjoying each other's company, that's not something we ever did."

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah! It was a great day. A really great day."

"There's something to be said for just being together, right?"

"Hmmm."

"Yeah. I think so, too. Well, what about the etiquette classes and ballroom dancing lessons? Do you want to make Emma do that stuff, too?"

"God, I don't know. I think I have a better idea of what I don't want than what I do want."

"Well, let's talk about it, and see if we can figure out what we both want for her and for us." They both rolled onto their sides to face each other.

"OK, what do you want for Emma?"

"I get to go first, eh?" she laughed. "All right. Jane said something to me once that really stuck with me. I know, she says a lot of stuff, and I...I'm starting to think that a lot of it is, uh, well, for lack of a better word, a load of crap. But anyway, one time she told me that the important thing is to raise a well-adjusted, happy adult, not a perfect child. That seems really right to me. So, the first thing I want is for Emma to know she is loved, I want her to feel secure, and to know that we are there for her. Really there, present in her life."

"How do we do that without smothering her?"

"Oh, wow. They're not the same thing at all, I think. One is helping her achieve her own goals, and the other is telling her what to do all the time, telling her what her goals have to be."

"All right, I can see that. But I can also see that there are dangers in loving too much, you know, coddling. It's important to me that she have some real, substantial goals in her life, and some things she really cares about." Lizzy knew he was thinking of Georgie when he said that. "And also, she needs to know that along with all the advantages and resources she has, come certain responsibilities and obligations to others, to the family and also to people who don't have all that she has."

"I completely agree about the last part, and I think we need to show her that every day. Let's talk about this coddling thing, though. Are you saying you think parental love should be conditional? Like she has to earn it or something?"

"No, what I mean is, we can't allow our love for her to mean we give her a free pass, no matter what she does."

She decided that, since they were talking about Georgie, they might as well actually talk about Georgie. "So, am I correct in thinking here that you're talking about Georgie not facing any consequences for her behavior?"

"Yeah. And my cousins. Richard's younger brother...let's just say that his parents' love for him has gotten him out of some, uh, legal situations that ordinary people wouldn't have walked away from. There are other examples."

"I see. That's not really what I meant by unconditional love. You can love your kids and still say no sometimes. In fact, you have to say no sometimes, give them some rules and boundaries. They need that. They also need to face the consequences of their actions. That doesn't mean you don't love them, no matter what. It means you're teaching them to be responsible adults one day."

"And if they disappoint you, or don't do what you expect?"

"Oh, man. Is that what was going on with your dad? He said you disappointed him?"

"No, it was more that he would be disappointed in me if I didn't become the person he wanted, or if I didn't do certain things."

"Like majoring in economics, right? OK, that's something I am going to insist on. We are never, ever going to say that to Emma. Never. We'll try to help her make good choices, but our love for her is never conditional."

"Hmm, sounds like you have some strong feelings on this subject."

Lizzy nodded. "Sure. My dad has made it abundantly clear that he doesn't approve of the choices I've made in life lately. Who needs that?"

"Since you married me, you mean," he said grimly.

Lizzy reached out and stroked his cheek. "I have no regrets. You've given me more love and...understanding, true understanding, and compassion in six years than they did in thirty years."

He closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest his forehead on hers. "I don't know. I'm beginning to think I've been letting you down since Emma was born, without even realizing it. Maybe in other ways I don't realize, either."

Her voice fierce, she said, "Never. You could never let me down. We might have some things to work through, but we'll figure it out. I love you no matter what, too. OK? That's what unconditional love means. I'm giving mine to Emma now, but I already gave it to you a long time ago. Do you really understand that? Can't you feel it?"

"I'm sure there are some things I could do to make you change your mind about me."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, if I killed someone, or if I started running around with other women."

"I really don't see you doing either of those things. I don't think you have it in you. You're too decent, fundamentally."

"But what if I changed? What if I...I don't know, sold WPD or something."

"That wouldn't change who you are in essentials. I quit my job. Do you love me any less?"

"Of course not. Your job is not why I love you."

"Same for me."

They both paused to mull this over. He raised his eyebrows and gave her a significant look.

Lizzy poked Will's arm. "I see what you did there. You got me to say I have to accept that all these changes in my life won't change the fact that you love me. All right, I'll accept that. But I want you to realize the same thing about yourself. You don't have to please your father anymore by killing yourself over that company. If you gave up the kingdom I wouldn't love you any less, OK?"

"I didn't mean it literally. I'm not going to sell WPD."

"Well, why not?"

"What if Emma wants it when she grows up? It's our legacy. My dad used most of his inheritance to start it."

"What if she doesn't want it? What if she wants to do something else with her life? She might want to be a scientist, or a teacher, or a skydiver or...God forbid, a lawyer. It wouldn't be the end of the world, right?"

"No, you're right. I just want her to have something important, something to give her direction and meaning."

"She seems to have a lot of direction already. Mostly toward these." She pointed toward her chest.

He chuckled. They talked and talked until they fell asleep. When Lizzy got up to feed a crying Emma, she didn't even notice that it was 2 o'clock and that Emma hadn't nursed at midnight.

While they lounged around more on Saturday, went out into the snow on Sunday to play and even found a restaurant that was open for dinner, Lizzy thought a lot about what Will had said about the responsibilities and obligations that came with the kind of wealth they had, the things that Emma needed to know about. She thought she, herself, probably hadn't been holding up her end of things in that regard since they'd been married, because she'd been trying to pretend all along that they really weren't that rich. But of course, they were. She knew some about the Fitzwilliam-Darcy Trust, and the new projects it had been financing for at-risk teens since Lydia's OD. But she'd basically left that to Will, because it was his thing, his family's money. She didn't really understand how it all worked. Should she be doing more? Did she in fact have any responsibilities there, any say in how the money was used? She gave money to lots of causes that she cared about, and she always had. But should she be thinking about these things differently now? Could her, their, donations be made more effectively?

As they were doing a little baby-clothes laundry on Sunday, she asked him about the Trust, and about his, their, charitable giving, and how it all worked. She asked whether she could be more involved.

"Of course. It's your money, too. I didn't know you were interested in all this stuff," he said as he measured the hypoallergenic liquid laundry detergent.

"Well, I guess I didn't have time to think about it very much before. And what you said about Emma needing to understand all this made me realize I didn't, myself."

"Do you want to make an appointment to talk to my financial advisor? She could fill you in on exactly what we've done already, how much we have to give, and the legalities around charitable giving and all that."

"Yeah, OK." She pushed the button to start the washer. "I guess I haven't been very disciplined in how I've been giving. But you have to be more, um, strategic, to make a real difference, right? And think bigger?"

"Yeah, that's right. Do you have something in mind?"

"Hmm, maybe." They walked down the hall back to the living room. Will slung Emma under his arm like a football. Lizzy almost told him not to do it because it wasn't safe, but Emma squealed and smiled happily and laughed, so she didn't. "I was thinking about Bella's Place, the women's shelter. It's been an important part of my life for years. I was thinking maybe I'd start volunteering there again some afternoons. I'll still do that, and of course I'll still sponsor a few families transitioning into permanent housing. But that's all really thinking too small, isn't it?"

"Probably, if you think the work they do is really good. If you want, I can talk you through the process of planning and making a big donation to Bella's Place, or even going bigger than that like we did with the at-risk teen network."

"All right. Let's talk."

On Monday afternoon, leaving Emma in Elena's care, Lizzy headed uptown to Bella's Place in the SUV, jammed full of baby gear, although it still barely made a dent in all the huge pile of baby stuff sitting in Emma's room. Some of the gear might stay permanently in the shelter. Some of it might go with the women and kids when they left the shelter. Some of it was precious nonsense that they might sell on ebay to someone who cared about having an organic cotton all-natural phthalate-free baby geegaw. It could all help somehow.

Also in the front seat was a big pile of her pre-Emma business suits in their dry-cleaning bags. She knew she'd never fit into them again. She was resigned to the fact that even when she lost her baby weight one day, she still wouldn't ever be the same shape as before. Why have these things hanging around in the closet haunting her? The women at the shelter were always in need of job interview suits, and these might help someone who was her old size. So off they went.

Lizzy parked in a loading zone, hazards flashing, and ran into the rundown old brownstone to ask a couple of volunteers for help bringing the stuff in from the car and into the donation-processing room. She headed toward Donna, the director's, office and said hi to her assistant, Tanya. She couldn't expect just to drop in and do any work, so she'd work out a regular schedule with the volunteer coordinator later. For now she just asked to make an appointment to meet with Donna later in the week, and they settled on a time on Friday afternoon.

It felt good to be back. Really good.

After this exciting trip, though, Lizzy felt very tired, so she went home and took a nap. After she woke up from her nap, she read the Times and checked out some legal blogs that she had always enjoyed following. The Supreme Court would be announcing the results of its deliberations on the cases before it this term soon, and the media were full of speculation about what the Court would say and why. That was fun. Then she read a novel for half an hour before it was time to relieve Elena. OK, she was still bone tired, and maybe she wasn't quite ready to jump back into things yet. But she felt for the first time in a long time as though that day might actually come.

That week, she and Emma started to settle into their new routine. Lizzy tried to resist overscheduling, since that seemed to be her default mode. So she decided to build a couple of "surprise me!" free-time blocks into their weekly plan.

Emma seemed to be feeling increasingly secure. She slept for longer stretches at night, closer to three hours at a time most nights. Between that and the naps, Lizzy continued to feel better as the days passed.

Once she caught sight of herself in a toyshop window as she and Emma had stopped to check out a very elaborate marble run. From a certain perspective, she looked like hell. Her hair was a mess, she was wearing a frumpy winter coat, stretched-out mom yoga pants and old sneakers. On the other hand, even she could see that she was more relaxed than she'd been in ages. Better still, she hadn't known it before she looked, but she was smiling broadly at Emma. This was good. Really good.

She and Emma took a lot of field trips during their times together. Sometimes they dropped in to see Will at work. Once they went to the Children's Museum of Manhattan. Emma was a little overstimulated at first by the high level of noise and activity at the museum, but after a while she got used to it and kicked and laughed as she watched the older kids running around and playing. Strapped to Lizzy's chest, Emma finger painted on the mural wall painting with Lizzy's guidance, and also finger painted a picture they could take home. Well, sort of. Actually Lizzy guided her hands and arms to make sure she left a lot of paint on the paper and very little in her mouth. Emma liked the bright colors everywhere and the splashing of the water in the water table. Of course it would all be a lot more fun when she could walk and didn't shove her hand in her mouth all the time. In anticipation of that day, Lizzy bought a family membership.

When Lizzy got home she stuck Emma's finger painting on the refrigerator door with a magnet. It was the first piece of artwork there, and it broke up the monotony of the sleek black and stainless kitchen nicely. Emma and her colorful gear and playthings had already taken over the sterile white blankness of the living room, and were now making inroads on the kitchen. Which room would be next, Lizzy wondered? Would the whole apartment eventually be transformed from a showcase into someplace that looked like people actually lived in it?

That Thursday morning, they had a fun time at Louisa's. Tina, one of the other women, taught Lizzy how to whip up an easy batch of chili and cornbread for lunch, and then they all enjoyed eating it together.

Later in the day, Lizzy did something she had been dreading for a long time: she went to the women lawyers group meeting. The group met the second Thursday of every month, and Lizzy had skipped the one in January because she had been so snowed under with work. At 6 o'clock, she walked into the tapas bar where they always met, Emma strapped to her chest. Vanessa saw her coming, and waved for Lizzy to come sit on the stool next to her at the high table. Audrey, the young, single woman, said hi but kept her distance. Janice and Laura greeted her warmly.

To Lizzy's surprise, Paula came over to meet Emma, and cooed and fussed over her like nobody's business. When Paula finally looked up, she noticed that Lizzy was giving her a funny look.

"What? I like babies as much as the next person," Paula said, a little affronted. "Can I hold her?"

"Sure, of course," Lizzy sputtered, unbuckling the baby carrier and handing Emma over.

Paula turned to Vanessa as she held Emma in her arms. "I have six nieces and nephews. Six. I used to take them to the zoo when they were little."

That was unexpected, thought Lizzy. "Well, maybe you heard, but I gave notice at HRI. I'm officially unemployed." She looked right at Paula as she said it, issuing a challenge.

Paula used her free hand to make a zipping motion across her mouth, and then she turned an imaginary key and threw it away. She smiled at Lizzy with her lips completely closed. Lizzy smiled back

Vanessa asked, "How are you doing? I haven't seen you two for ages. Emma's so big!"

"Great. I'm doing great. Feeling a lot better."

Friday afternoon, Lizzy met with Donna, the director of Bella's Place. Lizzy told her that she and Will were considering making a substantial gift to the shelter, and asked Donna if she'd consider putting together a proposal for them. What was her vision for the future? If she could do anything at all, connect with any other organization, what would it be? There were a number of other shelters for homeless and battered women in New York, but Lizzy thought this one was special because it was small, and was really in touch with the people in the neighborhood and their needs. Also, she liked its emphasis on helping women get the skills and support they needed to get, and keep, good jobs. That meant, among other things, making sure they could get reliable, high-quality child care. Lizzy wanted to know, what did Donna, herself, see as special about it? How could they help build on those strengths and maybe reach out to existing organizations to provide an integrated, seamless path to stability and safety for women and children trying to rebuild their lives after the trauma and chaos of homelessness and abuse? Donna was of course very excited, and said she would need a few weeks, maybe a month or more, to get a proposal together.

Lizzy left the shelter feeling very optimistic. She had a lot to share with Will that evening. Not only had she made the first steps toward a new project with Bella's Place, but she could swear that that morning Emma had said "mama" once, and she'd been reaching for absolutely everything nearby when they had dropped by an open playdate at the community center during their morning together. Over dinner, they tried to get her to say "mama" again, but all she said was "phhhtthh" and "buh buh buh."

Please phhhtthhh or buh buh buh just below, if you like.