While they embraced and my parents took luggage from the back of the car, I hugged my niece and nephew, who’d sprouted up like weeds since I’d seen them last. “God, you guys. Stop growing already. You’re going to be taller than I am by the time you leave.”

My niece, a carbon copy of my sister except with braces and her dad’s dimpled chin, smiled shyly. “My foot is already as big as my mom’s.”

“I believe it,” I told her. “And that’s awesome, because your mom has an amazing shoe collection.”

Whitney’s eyes went wide. “She so does.”

When it was my turn to hug Sylvia hello, I couldn’t help noticing how thin she’d gotten. Embracing her was like hugging a scarecrow. But when she smiled, her face lit up and her eyes misted over. “I’m so happy to see you guys, and to be home,” she said, grabbing my hand. “And you have to catch me up on everything. I feel like we haven’t talked in forever.”

“Where’s Brett?” Chloe asked. I hadn’t even realized my sister’s husband wasn’t with them.

“He couldn’t come this early,” Sylvia explained as we headed into the house. “Work commitments. But he’ll be here this weekend. He’s taking the red-eye Thursday night.”

My parents led the way inside, with Sylvia’s kids racing ahead like puppies, Sylvia and April arm and arm behind them, and Chloe and I bringing up the rear. Sylvia’s sundress hung on her tiny frame like wash on the line, and Chloe and I exchanged a worried glance.

While my parent helped Sylvia and her kids get settled into their bedrooms for the week—my sister and brother-in-law would have her old room, Keaton would be in April’s old room, and Whitney got Chloe’s—April, Chloe and I returned to our patio chairs and glasses of wine.

“She’s so thin,” Chloe whispered right away. “She must have lost twenty pounds since I last saw her—and she was slender then!”

“I thought the same thing,” I said, glancing toward the house to make sure the bedroom windows weren’t open. “It’s kind of alarming.”

“I think she looks great,” said April, “but I agree she’s definitely skinnier.”

“I didn’t say she doesn’t look great,” Chloe defended. “She’s Sylvia—she always looks great. On my best day, I couldn’t look as great. But I feel like something is off with her.”

“Brett?” I guessed. “Is it weird that he didn’t come with them? Maybe she’s mad about it.”

“I think it’s more than that.” Chloe glanced up at the windows too. “Frannie and I were talking the other day about all those photos from their summer vacation in Italy that Sylvia posted on Instagram. She’s not smiling in any of them. It was one sad face after another! Sad in front of the Coliseum. Sad in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Sad in a boat heading for the Blue Grotto on Capri. How the fuck is anyone sad in a boat off the coast of Capri?”

“Shhhhhh,” April admonished her. “She’ll hear you.”

The patio door slid open, and Frannie stepped out of the house. “Hi, guys. What’s going on?”

“We’re just having a chat about Sylvia,” I said softly. “Have you seen her yet?”

Frannie nodded, biting her lip. “Just now. She looks kind of . . .”

“Emaciated?” I supplied.

Frannie shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t want to say that, because she still looks beautiful. But she has lost a lot of weight.”

“Where are Mack and the girls?” April asked.

“He’s in his office, and the kids are moping in the lobby because he told them no when they asked to run down to the barn before dinner and pet the horses.”

I laughed. “That used to be Chloe.”

“Yeah, except I’d go anyway.” Chloe grinned mischievously. “Want a glass of wine, Frannie? We’ve got a few minutes before dinner, and I have another bottle here.”

“Sure,” she said. “Let me go get Sylvia.”

“Good idea.”

Frannie returned with Sylvia and our mom a minute later, and we opened the second bottle of wine. Our dad, the old softie, had convinced Mack to give in to the kids and together they’d taken them all down to the barn to say hello to the horses—with strict instructions from my mother and Sylvia to watch where they stepped and wash up very well before coming to dinner.

For the next thirty minutes or so, the Sawyer women sat on the patio, sipping Cloverleigh wine, laughing about childhood memories, and chatting about all the wedding details. At one point, Chloe turned to April and said, “Oh, by the way, remind me to tell you about a conversation I had with Mia Fournier over at Abelard Vineyards last week. I might have a lead on someone who can fill in for you here so you can take that vacation.”

“Who is it?”

“It’s a close friend of hers who runs an event planning business down in Detroit but is looking at moving up here with her family.”

April smiled. “Okay. I’ll get in touch with Mia after Frannie’s wedding. Thanks.”

Eventually, we moseyed over to the inn, where we’d reserved the small private dining room normally used for small receptions or rehearsal dinners. There were thirteen of us around the table, and when my father stood at the head and raised a glass to his five daughters and all the love and joy they’d brought to his and my mother’s lives, I immediately choked up. Thank God I’d come home early—not only would I have missed this dinner and all the extra time with my sisters, I wouldn’t have had more than a couple hours over a beer with Noah.

In that moment, I felt with one hundred percent certainty, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Thirteen

Noah

Chris: Dude. I gotta get out of my house. Can you meet me for a beer after work?

The text came in around six, just when I was starting to look forward to a post-shift nap. Usually, on a nice day like today I’d have taken Renzo for a run and done some training in the park, but I was wiped the fuck out after staying up so late with Meg. And since I had big plans for us tonight, I really could have used the rest.

But I hadn’t seen Chris in a while, and a friend was a friend.

Me: Sure. I can meet you at 7:30 or 8.

Chris: Thanks. Let’s do 8 so I can still do kids bedtime routine. And let’s meet at Jolly Pumpkin so I can stay close to home just in case.

Me: Jesus. Is she STILL pregnant?

Chris: Dude.

After my shift was done, I took Renzo home, changed out of my uniform, and let him play around in the yard for a few minutes. Then I fed him, said goodbye, and promised I’d be back soon.

When I walked into the Jolly Pumpkin, Chris wasn’t there yet. I took a seat at the bar, ordered a pint, and checked my phone to see if Meg had called or texted.

For the fiftieth time that day.

Christ, get a grip, I told myself. I’d never been this way over a woman. But I couldn’t get last night out of my head. I just wanted to be with her again.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and Chris slid onto the seat next to me. “Hey. Sorry I’m late.”