“I’ll leave you in charge of the luxurious excess,” I said. “I’m going to take a nap so I’ll be fit to go to the concert tonight.”

“Splendid,” she said absently. She was holding up both hands making the suggestion of a picture frame and squinting through it at the stairway.

I headed upstairs, resigned to the probability that the hallway would be unrecognizable the next time I saw it.

When I was halfway up, Michael and the boys appeared.

“Mommy, go sledding!” Josh called.

Jamie just raced downstairs and began digging through the coat closet for his snow gear.

“They already napped,” Michael said. “And I assume you still need to. So since there’s fresh snow falling…”

“Wonderful idea,” I said. “How about feeding them while you’re out, and I’ll meet up with you all at the concert?”

I helped stuff the boys into their snowsuits and boots and then climbed upstairs again, ignoring the fact that Mother was still busy with her measuring tape and notebook. I put my cell phone where I would hear it if the chief finally returned my call and fell asleep secure in the knowledge that the boys were safe, and happy, and that I could take a nice long nap before I saw them again.

My phone alarm woke me up a few hours later with just enough time to throw my clothes on and drive into town for the concert. In fact, not quite enough time, since I had to park half a dozen blocks from Trinity.

I despaired of getting a seat for the concert, and was resigned to standing in the back. Or maybe sitting on the floor of the vestibule—I wouldn’t see much but at least I could hear. But when I peeked into the sanctuary, I spotted Michael and the boys, sitting in one of the front row pews, with Robyn and her husband sitting on one side of them and Mother, Dad, Grandfather, Caroline, Rose Noire, and Rob on the other. Robyn caught sight of me and waved, and I hurried to take the seat they were saving for me.