The Ordway Halloween Carnival was only seven days away and Kate had foolishly volunteered to design and make the photograph staging area. Between shopping for supplies, painting the backdrops, and building the faux haunted house set, she was overwhelmed with work. Add to that driving responsibilities that came with getting Marah to her modeling class, and she was emotionally close to the edge most of the time.

But she was supposed to be writing her book. Johnny and Tully and Mom expected it of her. She expected it of herself. She’d been certain that once the boys started school she’d find the time.

Unfortunately, she’d forgotten the kindergarten timetable. Frankly, she’d barely dropped the boys off before it was time to pick them up, and Johnny, who’d always been so much help, now spent more waking hours at the studio than he did at home.

So Kate did what she’d always done: she kept moving, hoping no one would notice that she didn’t smile as easily as she used to, or sleep as well.

This morning at six o’clock, she kissed Johnny awake, then went down the hall to waken Marah. From that moment on, she was caught in the whirlpool of other people’s needs. She drove carpool and went shopping and met the decorating committee for an hour of hammer-and-nails-type work.

She got so caught up in the work she almost missed picking up the boys. Late, she ran for her SUV and sped across the island, pulling into the pickup lane as most of the cars were leaving. She honked at the boys and waved them over.

Her phone rang. “Hello?” she answered, reaching behind her to unlock the back door.

“Mom?” Marah said.

“What’s wrong?”

Marah laughed, but it was definitely contrived. “Nothing. I don’t want you to spaz out, but I’m scheduling a family meeting for seven o’clock tonight.”

“A what?”

“A family meeting. Well, sort of. I don’t want Lucas or William there.”

“Let me get this straight: you want to have a meeting with your dad and me at seven.”

“And Tully.”

“What trouble are you in?”

“Way to believe the worst in me. I just want to talk.”

A thirteen-year-old girl wanting to talk to her parents? Specifically, Marah wanting to talk to Kate? That was like a snowfall in July. “Okay,” Kate said slowly. “You sure you’re not in trouble?”

“I’m sure. See you. ’Bye.”

Kate stared at the phone in her hand. “What’s going on?” she wondered aloud, but before an answer floated to the surface, the car door behind her opened, the boys climbed into the backseat, and Kate was tossed onto the surf of her everyday life.

There was shopping to do, and cooking, and at three she was back in the carpool lane, picking up Marah.