Mark stopped beside the gate and opened the back of his SUV.

He lifted out two grocery bags and a paper sack from an expensive bakery.

Then the cottage door opened.

The woman who stepped onto the porch wore dark jeans and a mustard-colored sweater.

Her hair was shorter and darker than I remembered.

She looked thinner around the shoulders.

When she lifted a hand to push hair behind her ear, she made a familiar little movement with her wrist.

I forgot the steering wheel beneath my hands.