“Go to sleep, sweetie.” Beth sighed as Ellie protested that she wasn’t tired and even though she was trying not look exasperated, she knew she was reaching the end of her suddenly short patience. “Elizabeth. Go to sleep, please. You’re yawning, so you are tired, I’m not negotiating.” Flicking Ellie’s night light on, Beth walked out of the room, watching her daughter for a minute before closing the door and hurrying downstairs, just as she heard the second round of knocking on the door. Wrenching the door open, the frazzled single mother gave her friend an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry, I have a little monster upstairs who has decided to make every bed time a living nightmare.” Letting Lucy into the house, Beth ran her hands through her hair. “Suddenly she wants daddy there to tuck her in and because he’s not, she’s turning into a diva. Please tell me you have a lot of food in that bag, I have a lot of wine in the fridge. @lucybethbarton
