5
RACHEL
I was in love.
It was official. Emmy’s two-month-old daughter, Louisa Mary, or Lulu as I liked to call her, was my new favorite person on the planet. I’d offered to watch the little sweetheart while Emmy ran some errands and now I was loathe to part with my adorable niece. That seemed to be just fine with Emmy, who looked happy, but exhausted from sleepless nights. She lounged on my couch with her mug of tea while I rocked and shushed Lulu.
“You look like a natural,” Emmy said, her head resting on a decorative pillow, her feet up on the arm rest.
I smiled and tried to ignore the painful ache in my chest. Lulu was a soft, warm little lump. In her pink footie pajamas, she had her knees bent up and her hands in tiny fists. She had that perfect baby smell, fresh laundry and milk.
