Aria woke to the sound of babbling through the baby monitor.
Not crying. Just Eleanor's morning chatter....nonsense sounds that somehow conveyed an entire conversation with herself.
The bedroom was filled with early light. Damien's side of the bed was empty, sheets already cool.
She smiled. Reached for her phone. 6:47 AM.
Right on schedule.
The monitor crackled. More babbling. Then Damien's voice, low and amused.
"Good morning, sweetheart. You're very talkative today."
Eleanor responded with what sounded like enthusiastic agreement.
Aria sat up. Pulled on the robe draped over the chair. Padded barefoot out of the bedroom and down the hall to the nursery.
The door was half-open. She stopped in the doorway.
Damien stood at the crib in his pajama pants and nothing else, hair still messy from sleep, holding Eleanor up in front of him.
The baby...ten months old now, all chubby cheeks and dark curls....grabbed at his face with both hands.
