“Hey, good dog.”

Sophie carried Greg’s small canvas overnight bag into the hallway and set it gently by the stairs beside a postcard from Oregon that had arrived in the morning mail.

I went upstairs into our master bedroom and opened the tall oak wardrobe.

The blue evening dress Lynn had bought for my Caribbean cruise hung from the center rod, still in its clear plastic dry cleaning bag.

I unzipped the plastic, took the blue dress off its wire hanger, and folded it carefully into the cedar chest at the foot of our bed.