His back was to her, so she slipped past without calling to him, questions swirling in her mind. How much more did she have to endure tonight? Why was Marge giving Dad goo-goo eyes? Dad and Marge didn’t have a . . . a thing going, did they?

Bea shook her head. No, of course not. That would never happen.

She found Jeremy in the kitchen, his full attention on his phone. Country music played from the speaker, making her smile despite the emotion still constricting her throat.

“Is that Alan Jackson?”

He jumped and spun around. “Oh, you’re back. Yeah, I remembered he was one of your dad’s favorites. Figured I better check him out.”

“You’re getting sucked in.” Her tease was halfhearted, but that didn’t stop him from protesting.

“No, I’m not.”

Her eyes burned, and she swiped at them. “Mm-hmm.”

“Wait.” He stood and reached for her. “Are you okay?”

Are you okay? Are you okay? How many times had he asked her that in the past month?

She buried her face in his shoulder. Everything was upside-down. What was happening to her grandma? What was going on with Dad? Would she ever be able to stand alone on a dark street without all the fear rushing back?

She wanted her mom.

When she’d regained some control over herself, she pulled away. Jeremy rubbed his hands up and down her arms, concern on his face.

“What’s going on? Were you at your grandma’s this whole time?”

She sniffled. “Yes. I just wanted to visit, but Grandma . . .”

Jeremy’s voice was gentle. “What?”

Dad appeared in the kitchen entryway. “You’re home.”

She turned to look at him, and his eyebrows raised. “What’s the matter, B.B.?”

Jeremy put a protective arm around her shoulder. “Could you give us a minute, please?”

“Did something happen with your grandmother?”

“Mr. Jensen, could you please—”

“It’s okay, Jeremy.” Bea ducked out from under his arm and took a seat at the kitchen table. “He should hear this, too.”

Resigned irritation puckered Jeremy’s face as he joined her at the table.

She put one elbow down, leaned her chin into her hand, and looked sideways at her dad. “Did you say something to Grandpa and Grandma about me? Something about the baby?”

His eyes narrowed. “I told them the news is all. Why?”

“Nothing else?”

“What else is there to say?” Dad crossed his arms. “What’s this all about?”

Bea sank further into her chair. “I think you were right. About Grandma. Something’s going on with her.”

Dad remained standing but moved closer, his voice tight with concern. “What happened?”