The Glass Wives by Amy Sue Nathan

more time. The solid-oak dresser, the one Evie had refinished before the twins were born, stood in one corner across from a white, up-to-code, wooden crib. Sam’s and Sophie’s DVDs and board games were stacked in another corner, half-hidden by a twenty-five-year-old minifridge. Evie had stocked it with soda and apple juice.
    Beth had given her the names of baby-safe cleaning products and bought a few of the latest baby-proofing items. Laney said Evie was crazy, cleaning for Nicole, but helped her anyway. Evie wanted to present her home in the best light possible, even if that light was fluorescent tube bulbs in a drop ceiling. Evie succumbed to the ease and lure of looking frumpy, but she would never abandon her house to the same fate. This had been her home—in one familial configuration or another—for a dozen years. She knew that no matter who lived there, or didn’t, this house was filled with vestiges of her past and dreams for her future.
    Evie clung to both to save her own life.
    *   *   *
    Nicole held the banister and peeked down from the fourth step.
    “Oh my God, it looks amazing.” She looked around the basement, mouth open. “It doesn’t look like the same room.” She sank into the couch. “Reminds me of my first apartment back home. So cozy, so lived in .”
    Was it a compliment, or was Nicole expecting Ethan Allen to have made a delivery? Evie sat, leaving one cushion between them. She crossed her legs, leaned back, and admired her handiwork. “Thanks. I’m glad you like it. Amazing what packing up ten years of toys will do.”
    “What’s the occasion?”
    Evie smiled. “I have been thinking about your idea.” No turning back now. “And if you’d like to move in here with Luca, just until we’re both on our feet, I think that would be okay.”
    “Really?” Nicole’s face expanded with a broad smile. “What made you change your mind?”
    “I figure it’s a win-win.”
    “I was right, wasn’t I? You can’t pay your bills.” Nicole looked at her lap. “You don’t want me to move in, do you? You need me to move in.”
    Evie noticed a smirk but decided to ignore it. “It’s a combination.” It was 99 percent need, but that 1 percent still constituted a combination.
    “That’s okay. I like being needed. And I like honesty.”
    The irony choked Evie.
    Nicole smiled and put her hand on Evie’s hand. It was an unfamiliar touch, somewhat unwelcome. Evie stopped herself from recoiling. I can pay the bills, I can pay the bills, I can pay the bills, until I find a job or the insurance comes through, or both. So, if Nicole wanted to play house, Evie would play house.
    “What do you think Richard would say?” Nicole said, fingering her wedding band.
    Evie had long stopped caring what Richard thought or said about anything she did. But for Sam’s and Sophie’s sakes, she pondered. “I guess he’d be glad his kids are together.”
    Nicole rocked in silence. Her mouth frowned, her eyelids drooped as if she were dozing, and she continued playing with the ring, drumming it, twirling it, feeling it. “It’s good, isn’t it?” she said, perking up, then reverting back to stoic. “Making the best of a bad situation is good, right?”
    “I think it’s practical. And practical is good. For now.”
    *   *   *
    That night, with just the kids and herself upstairs in their bedrooms, Evie felt safe, at ease, content. The money from Nicole offered her a short respite from worrying.
    “I don’t feel good,” Sophie said at Evie’s bedroom door.
    A short respite, indeed.
    Evie hug-walked Sophie back to her room. Evie smoothed the curls out of Sophie’s face and felt her daughter’s forehead with her lips and a subsequent kiss. Cool. She drew back the blanket, and Sophie scampered beneath it.
    “You’re fine, sweetie. Probably just extra-tired. It was an exciting day.” Change prompted sleeplessness and stomach pains in Sophie. As a baby, she needed her solid foods introduced