When I arrived at the studio that morning, Olivia was waiting for me. She was bouncing on her heels, grinning broadly. "I'm sorry for the late notice, but I'd love it if you could join me for dinner tonight. I want to thank you for taking the time to paint Bella and me."

"You don't have to do that," I said though her gesture still touched me. "It's an honor for me to paint you."

"I insist," she said. "At least, let me do something for you in return, Sam. I mean, you've been painting Bella and me so patiently all these weeks and...well, I think it's a tremendous gesture, you know, to take the time to paint someone when you could easily have taken a picture and work from that. No one's ever done that for me."

I smiled, her puppy-dog eyes breaking through my defenses. As much as I was so intent on saying no, only because I was too nervous over David's declaration about me having a boyfriend, one would have had a heart of stone to say no to Olivia - especially since I really had no plans other than go home and be paranoid that David knew about my studio. "You're one of the best subjects a painter could ever ask for, Olivia," I said.

After last weekend, Olivia no longer needed to sit for me. But when she plopped herself on the chair by the window, laughing as Bella managed to flee from Consuelo and scoot her way into the studio, I continued to paint what I saw. I loved watching and listening to her stories about life with Sebastian while nursing or playing with Bella.

I didn't mind her telling me things. It helped me understand her more, giving me what I needed to paint her the way I did - the baring of each layer, to reveal the true person beneath. It had become our routine the last few weeks. But today, Olivia didn't stay long. Two hours later, she gathered Bella in her arms and left, needing to get started with dinner.

I spent the next few hours immersed in Olivia's portrait, fine-tuning it the best I could. Her ethereal gaze took my breath away, and for a brief moment, I wondered if I'd channeled the Madonna and child. For that's what Olivia and Bella were after all - mother and child.

I don't know how long I worked on the painting but by the time I smelled the aroma of food, it was dark outside, and the room had grown cold. I closed the glass doors and locked them before jumping into the shower to wash off any paint off my skin and sometimes my hair. I brushed my teeth and dressed in a red summer dress with a flowing skirt that skimmed my ankles, grateful that I'd stored some nice clothes besides just grungy paint-spattered t-shirts and shorts in the studio. Though I could have walked around the house and use the door to the garden connecting both Erik and Olivia's houses, I slipped out the separate door towards the walk street. If Erik was entertaining someone, I did not want to interrupt him. The poor man needed a weekend free from some painter hanging out in his house.

As I walked past the deck leading to Erik's living room, the glass doors slid open, and Erik called my name.

"Hey, Sam, where are you going?"

As I turned to look at him, I could see Bella in her high chair in front of the dining room table. Guess it was his night to babysit, I thought, while Olivia and I would have a girls' night out.

"I'm having dinner with Olivia."

"No, you're not," he said, beckoning for me to come inside. "You're having dinner with Bella and me. Come on in. I don't bite."

"Where's Olivia?" I asked as I slipped past him and he shut the door behind me.

"Liv got her Saturdays mixed up," he said. "Tonight she's scrapbooking with her friends while I get to play uncle and babysitter to this little princess over here."

He noticed the expression on my face and raised his right hand. "Scout's honor, I'm telling the truth, Sam. Unless you'd rather not, that's fine with me. I won't get offended. But I have to warn you, though. Liv's an awesome cook. Here, you can call her if you like."

He handed me the phone, but I shook my head. I was silly, I thought. But scrapbooking?

"What's for dinner?" I asked. The aroma of food filling the room had made my mouth water.

"Liv prepared it. She just stuck it in my oven to keep it warm, after her friends called to see if she was on her way."

"For scrapbooking? You expect me to believe that your sister does scrapbooking?"

He shrugged. "It is still a thing, isn't it?"

The look on his face was pure innocence, his puppy eyes doing its work on me. I helped him get the rest of the dishes on the table, placing my hand over my wine glass to let him know I did not want any wine just when he was about to pour me some. He nodded and took a bottle of sparkling water from the refrigerator, pouring that instead into my glass.

"Olivia made rosemary-braised lamb shanks with garlic mashed potatoes," he said, pulling out a chair for me. "Bella has already started with her plain mashed potatoes."

"I'm afraid she's already wearing her food," I laughed, doing my best to wipe off all traces of mashed potatoes from her face and hair.

Erik was wearing a tight dark shirt and jeans, his feet bare just like mine. We sat across each other, with Bella's high chair at the end of the table, placing her within easy reach for both of us.

"I wish you could have brought Michael," he said, serving me some salad. "They could both have, what do you call it...?"

"Play dates," I replied. "David has him on weekends. But thank you for dinner. You didn't have to do this."

"Why not? You've been working a lot, and Olivia thought it would be one way to thank you for painting her. She hasn't seen her painting, but she's quite excited for its unveiling."

"She's a beautiful subject. She could be my muse if she isn't already, though."

While Olivia had prepared the main dish, Erik had made the salad and even dessert, which he said was a surprise. He fed Bella with mashed potato mixed with spinach, before handing his niece her bottle.

"A year ago I never thought I'd be good with children till I became an uncle," he said. "When she became a widow, it changed everything even more."

"Dada," Bella cooed.

"No-no-no-no," he protested, laughing. "It's ba-ba to you, Bella Luna. Ba-ba."

"Dada," Bella said again, laughing when Erik crossed his eyes.

"Babies usually say Dada first," I assured him.

"Do they?" He smiled, returning to his salad when Bella started drinking from the bottle, occupied by a toy attached to her high chair. "Michael is two, right?"

I nodded. "So how often do you babysit? I bet there's a waiting list for your services."

"No, I just do it for Bella-luna here, though sometimes my friend Josh helps out when he's available. It works in getting us the ladies," he said, winking at me.

"Shut up," I said, laughing. "You can't be that desperate! Are you?"

Erik shook his head, laughing. "No, I'm not, Sam. But it's a trip to sit out on the deck with Bells here. She's like a magnet."

I'm sure she is, I thought. "Riiiight."

"I don't mind babysitting. Liv needs a break, even if she has to involve herself with scrapbooking to get away. She goes out to dinner with her friends, and sometimes to see a movie or a play," Erik said. "That's why I brought Liv back home, so she could be with family."

"Did her husband have a big family over there?"

"Quite big. Totally Italian, in everything. Food, wine, family ties. They would have loved to have her live there," he replied. "His family lived in Capri. But as much as Liv would love to live with them so Bella would have her father's family, she couldn't see it happening for the long-term. She was also going through postpartum depression when he died."

"That's terrible."

"It was," Erik said. He got up to take my empty salad dish away. When he returned, he brought back an already plated main dish of rosemary-braised lamb shank on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes. "Olivia plated them already and kept them in the oven to stay warm," he said, placing the dish in front of me, and his plate across from me. "Careful, the plate's hot."

"It looks delicious," I said, my mouth watering. "When did Olivia move back?"

"About six...seven months now, I guess," Erik replied, sitting down and checking on Bella. She was content with her bottle, and the rattle toy attached to the table top of her high chair. "When Sebastian died, I went to Italy to bring her and Bella back here. Stan, the guy next door at that time, was moving back to Idaho and was thinking of selling his house, and so Olivia bought it. That way, we'd be right next door to each other."

"Literally," I chuckled. "You guys are very close."

"Of course. We're twins," he grinned, lifting his wine glass as I did the same. "Bon appetit! Here's to a partnership, Sam."

"Bon appetit," I smiled, taking a sip of my sparkling water.

Other then brief interactions with Bella, we were silent for most of the meal. The braised lamb was beyond delicious, and I reminded myself to ask Olivia for the recipe. Erik said that Olivia made the dish once a month, knowing it was one of Erik's favorites.

"If her schedule for braised lamb falls on a weekend, can you let me know?" I joked.

When it was time for dessert, Erik served it with much fanfare complete with little cocktail umbrellas. He'd slaved all day, he said, over this amazing dessert, and he was quite proud of it. And when he served it on a platter, I had to smile at his effort.

Erik had made white chocolate Rice Crispy treats, with macadamia nuts and white chocolate shavings. We split one square between the two of us though we agreed it was best to hold off giving it to Bella. She'd probably be bouncing off the walls all night if we did, and Olivia would never forgive us.

I helped with the clean-up, insisting on doing it even though Erik refused to hear of it. Bella was now sitting and scooting all over the floor, surrounded by her toys.

"It's the least I can do for the wonderful dinner, not to mention the awesome dessert," I said, pushing Erik away. "Please let me do it. It's just loading dishes in the dishwasher anyway."

Just then, Bella pulled herself up against the entertainment center. It was just what I needed to get him out of the way, for Erik rushed towards her to make sure that she didn't chew on any the remotes. By the time I was done clearing up the table and loading the dishwasher, Erik was playing Barney on the big screen TV. I figured I'd give it a few minutes and head home.

"Are you familiar with the purple dinosaur?" Erik asked.

I laughed. "Michael used to go crazy for Barney though now he's into Thomas the tank engine. "

"Bella is hypnotized by him," Erik said, bouncing Bella on his lap as he leaned back on the couch. "And so will we, given enough time. It's embarrassing really, and I'll hold you on oath not to tell anyone."

I laughed, suspecting he was right. Michael adored Barney, and I ended up loving him, too. Well, for Michael's sake was my defense.

"I hope you don't mind doing this," Erik said. "I know it's not exactly Saturday night party worthy, but if you don't have any plans, I'd love for you to stay awhile. We need to talk."

"About what?" I asked, alarmed.

Erik chuckled. "Nothing serious. Just talk. We've been exchanging notes so much, and I don't want you to think that I intentionally stayed away to give you some privacy."

"I know you didn't," I said. "But I'm the one who's imposing-"

"No, you're not," Erik said, checking on Bella though her attention was completely on the screen as she chewed on a teething necklace. "Olivia is quite happy to have you around, even if you keep to your studio. Having another person around calms her. She wishes you painted during the weekdays, but she understands that you do other things besides paint."

"What about you? Do you mind me being here on weekends?" I asked. "I sometimes know I'm here late, nd I don't want to interfere with your love life. I don't want you to be in a weird position to explain to your dates why you've got a woman staying in your house."

"Don't worry. You're not interfering with anything," he said quickly. "And if they're complaining, that's their problem."

Bella began clapping her hands and saying ba-ba as Barney began to sing his signature song. For the next few minutes, we watched and listened, giggling every few minutes. By the time the song was over, Erik and I were singing along, laughing when we caught ourselves. Bella was fast asleep in his arms, drooling on his shoulder.

"Do you always leave the blinds open?" I asked. "You don't mind people from the Strand peering in?"

"Does it bother you?" He asked, handing me a remote. "This shuts the blinds for privacy. Just hit the button."

I shook my head.

"When you live on the Strand, you get used to people looking. But they rarely stop and stare. Besides, we're not doing anything naughty, are we?" He winked at me playfully.

"Of course not," I said as I gave him a cloth diaper to catch Bella's drool on his shoulder. "Thanks. Anyway, if anyone can really see us without us noticing, they'd have to be further out on the beach and not on the Strand. But I don't think I've got any stalkers to worry about. Do you?"

"No," I huffed though my mind drifted towards David and what he had said to me that morning.

"By the way," Erik asked. "where did you park your car?"

"I jogged," I replied and Erik frowned.

"I hope you're not planning on jogging back home, Sam. It's late. I'll drive you."

I shook my head. "No, no, you don't have to. I'm going to change into my running clothes and-"

"No, you're not," Erik insisted. "Please, Sam, let me drive you home. I can't let you jog home when I can easily drive you home."

The door opened and Olivia walked in as quietly as she could, whispering her hellos and apologies. Erik got up to hand her Bella who was had awoken, and was calling for her.

I glanced at the clock. It was already 10:30. Time had flown by, I thought. I could still jog home, though I knew that Erik was right. Still, I hated to impose on him.

"How was dinner?" Olivia asked.

"It was great," I replied.

"I'm so sorry about tonight, Sam," Olivia said, rocking Bella back to sleep. "I hope my brother wasn't a terrible host."

"No, no, he wasn't," I said. "He was great."

"Anyway, I better get her to bed," Olivia said. "We'll do another dinner, Sam. And this time, I'll get my scrapbooking dates right."

She turned to Erik. "Are you driving her home? It's late."

"I will," Erik said before I could protest.

After she left, Erik glanced at me. "Shall we?"

"Shall we what?"

"Head home. I mean, can I drive you home?" he replied. "I would never let you to run back home, no matter what you say."

"I only live four miles away, Erik," I said. "I can-"

"I'm still driving you home, Sam," he said. "Olivia will never forgive me if she knows I let you run home late at night."

I sighed, though I couldn't help smiling. "Well, I guess that means I have to save you from Olivia then."

"Yes, please," he grinned.