I didn’t buy the entire collection.

I helped carry the boxes, which was the kind of ordinary, useful task I had always delegated away.

Penelope caught me looking at a photograph of an empty chair by a window.

“That’s my favorite,” she said.

“Mine too,” I answered.

The chair looked less lonely because someone had taken the time to see it.

PART 16: Marianne’s Years

At a school fundraiser I met one of Marianne’s oldest friends, a nurse named Diane who had helped after the twins were born.