I opened the door and there she was, coming up the last flight of stairs.
"There you are," she said and came to me, a bouquet of wildflowers in her hand, dressed in her colorful nursing jersey and pants, her hair pulled back into a bun. "Come give me a hug."
I went to meet her with Sophie in my arms and we hugged, patting each other on the back. I took the bouquet from her and she took Sophie, who seemed quite calm being held by a complete stranger.
"Come on in and I'll make the tea," I said and took the flowers into the kitchen. I turned on the electric kettle and then put the flowers on the island counter so I could cut the stems and put them in a vase of water.
"These are pretty," I said and smiled at Dawn. "Did you get them at the grocer down the street?"
"The very one," she said and sat at the island with Sophie in her arms. "She's getting so big. I half expected to see her being smaller than she is but I guess she was only premature because of the accident. Not because of anything organic."
"That's what Drake said. She's perfectly healthy and is in the top 75% of her age for weight and height."
"Good. She's doing really well." She talked to Sophie, asking her about Frozen on the television and telling her about the crucifix on a chain around her neck when Sophie pulled at it.
"No, that's my mother's," she said softly. "You have to be careful with that."
Dawn's mother had died when Dawn was young, and like me, had been motherless until her father remarried a few years later. It was something that bonded the two of us together, because she completely understood how I felt when my own mother died of breast cancer.
Dawn finally tore her gaze off Sophie and turned to me, her eyes soft.
"How are you doing, Kate? How are you really doing? I know you had some problems after Sophie was born. Dave told me."
"You and Dave?"
She shook her head. "No, we just met up in Starbucks one day and I made him sit down and talk to me about you. He told me you'd been diagnosed with PTSD, which is totally understandable, considering what happened."
"Yes, I was," I said and nodded. I poured the hot water over the tea infuser and watched as the hot water turned a deep orange-brown. The aroma of black tea filled the room. "I was obsessed for a while with Sophie's health, worried that something terrible was going to happen to her. I had a hard time sleeping and was having panic attacks. Drake finally figured it out and I got some counseling. I'm much better now. I still occasionally worry about Sophie when she sleeps late, but I know she's healthy and probably nothing bad is going to happen."
"That's good," Dawn said and played with Sophie's minion. "How is Drake doing, anyway? This must be hard on him, with all the publicity about his past."
"It is," I said and poured her a cup. "It's really affected him – even at the hospital in San Francisco. He had to quit because of the harassment from one of the nursing supervisors who claimed to be watching Drake, warning the nursing staff to beware of him."
"Really? That's terrible. That nursing supervisor should be fired."
I shrugged. "You didn't like Drake when I first started to see him. In fact, I seem to recall that you threatened to report him to my father and the administration at NYP..."
Dawn sighed audibly. "I know," she said softly. "I can't ever expect you to forgive me for that. All I can say is that I was a bit unreasonable about it, because of my sister."
"A bit unreasonable?"
She looked at me sheepishly. "Okay, a lot unreasonable. He's been good for you, other than the whole murderous ex-sex partner trying to kill you out of jealousy."
"That's not Drake's fault. She's nuts. She's a sociopath."
She sighed. "I don’t want to argue with you about this," she said. "I understand more about BDSM now than I did before. I don't blame Drake for what happened. You can meet a nut job in any situation who can hurt you. It's not Drake's fault."
"It isn't. Drake's been a rock, but he's decided to take some time off and wait until the publicity from the trial blows over and then he may try to go into private practice. He doesn’t need to work. He does it out of love for neurosurgery."
"He's lucky he has the flexibility."
We drank our tea and ate some of the fresh scones I made, along with some strawberry jam.
"How are you liking San Francisco? It's beautiful there. I bet you love it."
I smiled, thinking of our place overlooking the bay. I told her about our place and my studio, and what I'd been doing while Drake worked.
"It's so good that you're painting again. That makes me happy. Have you thought about finishing your MA?"