Rachel still came over most Sundays.

We cooked together while Hailey and Lucy drew at the kitchen table.

Sometimes Claire’s name came up, and we spoke of her naturally.

I no longer watched to see whether someone might object.

One afternoon Hailey brought home an assignment asking students to describe their families.

She had drawn herself, me, Rachel, Lucy, Pepper, and a smiling woman in a yellow dress above a row of flowers.

“Is that Mommy Claire?” I asked.