Standing there I could hear Maggie crying in the bedroom, but I decided now was not the time to go in there. I’d learned when she got like this to just let her get it out, so it looked like I’d be sleeping in the nursery tonight.

Hopefully things would be better in the morning, and as I got into bed I said quietly to myself, “Whatever you’ve come up with, Mama Vermillion, it’d better be good!”

I didn’t sleep worth a damn, so as soon as I heard the bakery open at 7am I went downstairs to get a coffee and a Danish for Maggie. Considering where we were last night, I figured I was going to need all the help I could get, and a Danish would be a good start.

Opening the front door as silently as I could, I was surprised to see our bedroom door open. But I thought better than to go in there without an invitation, so I just made my way to the kitchen. I put the old brass tea kettle on the stove and in no time it was whistling away. Hearing water running through the kitchen pipes (our apartment was built in 1892), I realized that Maggie was in the shower, so I did my best with hot tea and a Danish on the ready.