I had mentioned it once, last spring, in the car on the way to the nursery to pick up geraniums.

She stepped back and pressed her hands to her chest.

“We are all so grateful.

Truly.

I hope you know that.”

Thomas mumbled something that might have been agreement and then studied his shoes as though he had dropped something.

“Let me hang your coat,” I said, reaching for the hanger by the door.

Chloe had already turned to the cheese board, her phone in one hand, tapping at the screen with her thumb.