Rand nods and descends the steps. Thud, drag. Thud, drag. He waits at the bottom of the stairs, knowing they will come. I would jump up to meet them, too, but I am so tired today. Just so tired.

Another car I’ve never seen pulls up behind the truck. That must be the someone. Last time it was Amber who came out. I liked that. I don’t know who they’re bringing today.

Mitch, Beatrice, and Jeremy climb out of the truck. Bea waves at me, and I lift a hand. I think I smile. She looks so much like Caroline. Another man joins them, and he watches me as the four of them walk over to the house.

“Howdy,” Rand says.

Mitch nods. Jeremy reaches out to hold Bea’s hand. That makes me happy, even though I still think they’re practically children.

“Hi, Mom,” Mitch says. “How are you?”

“Good.”

I narrow my eyes at the stranger, and Mitch understands. “Uh, this is Ken. He . . . well, maybe we should all go inside and talk?”

I’m quite happy on the porch. I’m waiting for the light. But Mitch looks so serious, and the stranger’s eyes fixed on me are so unnerving that I push myself to my feet. Rand stands ready at my elbow as if I might topple over, but the rush of activity has given me a jolt of energy. I go inside, and everyone follows me to the kitchen.

“What can I get out?” I ask. “Let me cut up some cheese and salami.”

“No, Mom.” Mitch waves a hand. “We’re all fine. We don’t need anything.”

I open the cupboard. “Let me pour some drinks.”

“June.” Rand pulls out a chair and gestures toward it with his chin. “They said they’re fine. Why don’t you come and sit.”

It’s like he knows something I don’t. A small match of anger bursts to flame in my chest. No one needs to tell me what to do in my own house. But I catch a glimpse of Bea’s face and realize perhaps someone has died. That is why they’re here. But then who is this man? Why is he looking at me like that? His eyes . . .

“Mom, we need to ask you about something important,” Mitch says. Everyone is sitting now.

I feel my hands tremble slightly in my lap. Something important? What if I don’t know the answer? “Okay.”

“Do you remember your aunt from Chicago? Gladys Fennel?”

I tilt my head. Aunt Gladys? Is it Aunt Gladys who has died? I sigh. We haven’t been in touch in years. She was a good woman, but I lost her long ago.

“Mom? Do you remember?”

“Yes.”

Will they expect me to be sad?

“And do you remember going to stay with her the summer after you graduated high school?”