Kate wanted to join in, but she couldn’t. Her headache was killing her and she had this nagging sense that something was wrong. It was so acute that when Johnny left the party at just past one, she’d almost pleaded with him to stay.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” her mother pointed out when the last guest left.

“Marah didn’t sleep again last night.”

“She never sleeps through the night, and why is that? Because—”

“I know. I know. I need to let her cry.” Kate tossed the last of the used paper plates into the trash. “I just can’t.”

“I let you cry. It took three nights and you never woke up in the wee hours again.”

“But I’m a genius. Clearly my daughter is not as bright.”

“No, I’m the genius. Clearly my daughter is not as bright.” Mom looped an arm around Kate’s shoulder and led her to the sofa.

Side by side, they sat down. Kate leaned against her mother, who stroked her hair. The gentle, soothing motion transported her back a few decades. “Remember when I wanted to be an astronaut, and you said I was lucky because my generation could have it all? I could have three kids, a husband, and still go to the moon. What a bunch of bull-shit that was.” She sighed. “It’s hard to be a good mother.”

“It’s hard to be good at anything.”

“Amen,” Kate said. The truth was that she loved her daughter, ached sometimes with the intensity of that love, but the responsibility was overwhelming, and the pace of life exhausting.

“I know how tired you are. It’ll get better. I promise.”

No sooner had her mother said the words than her father walked into the room. He’d spent most of the party hiding out in the family room, watching some sports team or another. “We’d best get a move on, Margie. I don’t want to get stuck in traffic. Get Marah ready.”

Kate felt a flash of panic. Was she ready to be away from her daughter for a night? “I don’t know, Mom.”

Her mother touched her hand gently. “Your father and I raised two kids, Katie. We can watch our granddaughter for a night. Go out with your husband. Kick up your heels and have some fun. Marah will be safe with us.”

Kate knew her mother was right, even knew it was a good thing to do. So why was her stomach clenched?

“You have a lifetime to be afraid,” Dad said. “That’s what parenting is. Might as well embrace it, kiddo.”

Kate tried gamely to smile. “This is it, huh? How you guys felt all the time.”

“How we still feel,” Dad said. Mom took her by the hand. “Let’s go gather Marah’s things. Johnny’s going to be back in a couple of hours to pick you up.”