I'm ashamed to admit it took some coaxing and even a threat or two before Hardy could get me to leave the bed. No doubt, I thought sourly, he was far more accustomed to talking girls into bed rather than getting them out. Staggering to the table, I plonked down on the chair. A pile of books, a stack of graph paper, and three freshly sharpened pencils were laid out neatly before me. Hardy went into the kitchenette and returned with a cup of heavily creamed and sugared coffee. My mother was a coffee drinker, but I couldn't stand the stuff.

"I don't like coffee," I said crabbily.

"You do tonight," he said. "Start drinking."

The combination of caffeine, quiet, and Hardy's ruthless patience began to work magic on me. He went down the study list methodically, unraveling problems so I could understand how they worked, answering the same questions over and over. I learned more in one afternoon than I had in weeks of math class. Gradually the mass of concepts I had found so overwhelming became more understandable.

Midway through, Hardy took a break to make a couple of phone calls. The first was for a large pepperoni pizza that would be delivered within forty-five minutes. The second call was a lot more interesting. I huddled over a book and a piece of graph paper, pretending to be absorbed in a logarithm while Hardy wandered to the main room and spoke in low tones.

"...can't make it tonight. No, I'm sure." He paused, while the person on the other end ofthe line replied. "No, I can't explain," he said. "It's important...have to take my word for it..." There must have been some complaints, because he said a few more things that sounded soothing, and said "sweetheart" a couple of times.

Finishing the call, Hardy returned to me with a carefully blank expression. I knew I should have felt guilty for interrupting his plans for the evening, especially since they had involved a girlfriend. But I didn't. I acknowledged privately that I was a low and petty person, because I couldn't have been more delighted with how things were turning out.

As the math study continued we sat with our heads close together. We were coccooned in the trailer while darkness unfolded outside. It seemed odd not to have the baby nearby, but it was a relief too.

When the pizza arrived we ate it quickly, folding the steaming triangles to contain the gooey strings of cheese. "So..." Hardy said a little too casually, "you still going out with Gill Mincey?"

I hadn't spoken to Gill in months, not because of any animosity, but because our fragile connection had dissolved as soon as summer had started. I shook my head in answer. "No, he's just a friend now. What about you? Are you going with someone?"

"No one special." Hardy took a swallow of iced tea and stared at me thoughtfully. "Liberty...have you talked to your mom about the amount of time you're spending with the baby?"

"What do you mean?"

He gave me a chiding glance. "You know what I mean. All this babysitting. Waking up with her every night. She seems more like your baby than your baby sister. It's a lot for you to handle. You need time for yourself.. .have fun.. .go out with friends. And boyfriends." He reached out and touched the side of my face, his thumb brushing the pinkening crest of my cheek. "You look so tired." he whispered. "It makes me want to—" He stopped and bit back the words.

A groundswell of silence moved between us. Trouble on the surface and even deeper currents beneath. There was so much I wanted to confide to him...Mama's troubling distance from the baby, and the guilty question of whether I had somehow taken Carrington from her or if I had just stepped in to fill a vacancy. I wanted to tell him about my own longings, and the fear that I would never find anyone I loved as much as him.

"It's time to get the baby," Hardy said.

"Okay." I watched as he went to the door. "Hardy.

"Yes?" He stopped without looking back.

"I—" My voice wobbled, and I had to take a deep breath before I went on. "I'm not always going to be too young for you."

He still didn't look at me. "By the time you're old enough, I'll be gone."

"I'll wait for you."

"I don't want you to." The door closed with a quiet click.

I threw away the empty pizza box and plastic cups and wiped off the table and counters. The weariness was coming back again, but this time I had reason to hope I might survive the next day.

Hardy returned with Carrington, who was quiet and yawning, and I rushed to take her. "Sweet baby, sweet little Carrington," I crooned. She settled into her usual position on my shoulder, her head a warm weight against my neck.

"She's fine," Hardy said. "She probably needed a break from you as much as you did from her. Mom and Hannah gave her a bath and a bottle, and now she's ready to sleep."

"Hallelujah," I said feelingly.

"You need sleep too." He touched my face, his thumb smoothing the wing of my eyebrow. "You'll do fine on the test, honey. Just don't let yourself panic. Take it step by step, and you'll make it through."

"Thank you," I said. "You didn't have to do any of this. I don't know why you did. I really—"

His fingertips came to my lips with feather-light pressure. "Liberty." he whispered. "Don't you know I'd do anything for you?"

I swallowed painfully. "But.. .you're staying away from me."

He knew what I meant. "I'm doing that for you too." Slowly he lowered his forehead to mine, with the baby cradled between us.