She talked about the baby the way people talk about something they believe belongs partly to them. Then small things shifted.Maxine slept more. Too much, maybe. She wasn’t fussy—just quiet. When Mike picked her up after work, she felt heavier in his arms, not because she’d gained weight, but because she didn’t push back. Didn’t wriggle. Didn’t reach.
“She’s just tired,” Eleanor said lightly. “Babies grow in phases.”Carrie nodded, relieved to accept an explanation. Mike watched. Not accusing. Just noticing. He told himself not to read into it. They had wanted this help. Needed it. Eleanor was family.