Volunteer shifts at St.
Mark’s.
Groceries.
Walks with Ruth.
A dental appointment I’d postponed.
I repaired a loose cabinet handle and finally ordered the replacement part for the Buick’s window switch.
Small tasks.
Life continuing.
Sometimes that felt almost disloyal.
As though a mother whose daughter had hurt her should spend every waking hour waiting for reconciliation.
I refused.
Lauren needed space.
So did I.
During the second week, Ethan called.