The bell rang just as Bliss yanked open the door. Oscar let out a few excited barks and scrambled to the doorway, jumping wildly on Katie as she breezed into the house. “Hi,” Katie said a trifle breathlessly. “Is Mom here?”

“In the kitchen.”

“Good.” Katie hurried down the hallway to find her mother stirring a bowl of strawberries, sugar and pectin together as she made freezer jam. John was sitting at the table reading the paper.

“Katie!” Her mother looked up and beamed. “What brings you out here?”

“I, uh, thought it might be a good time for Bliss to meet Tiffany.” She glanced at Bliss. “I know it’s kind of sudden, but I’m not working today and Josh is over at Laddy’s, so I thought if you have the time . . .”

Bliss cleared her throat and noticed that her father, looking over the tops of his reading glasses, was staring at her. There was something akin to hope in his eyes. “Are you sure she wants to meet me?”

“I don’t know,” Katie replied honestly.

“Why wouldn’t she?” John demanded.

“Oh, Dad, come on. If you can’t figure it out, I’m not going to spell it for you.”

“You’re a wonderful person and—”

“And I’m your daughter. Your legitimate daughter—the one you claimed.”

“We’re all adults, now,” he said stubbornly. “And she’s got a couple of kids. I’m their grandfather.”

Grandfather. Bliss held back the argument that was brewing in her mind. Her father was a grandfather—three times over—and though she had trouble with the concept, he didn’t. A little spurt of jealousy flowed through her veins. For most of her life she’d thought she would be the only bearer of Cawthorne grandkids. If she could. That was still a question. It was funny, in a bitter way, how life had turned out, and again she felt an empty space, a small hole in her life—one that only a child could fill.

“That’s why I think we should talk to Tiffany. See her face-to-face,” Katie said.

“Maybe you should slow down a mite.” Brynnie patted Katie’s hand and Bliss felt a lump forming in her throat. Though she and her mother hadn’t been the touch-and-hug kind of mother and daughter, they’d been close, and seeing this display of affection between Brynnie and Katie brought to the surface a part of her she’d tried to suppress—the part of her that missed Margaret Cawthorne so badly that sometimes she still fought tears. “Tiffany might need a little more time, you know, to get used to things.”

“It’s been over thirty years,” John interjected.

“But not for her.” Brynnie took a chair at the table so she could face Bliss’s father. “You know she might not come to the wedding. You’ll have to accept that.”