“If it’s too painful or too private for you, please, feel no pressure at all. But Seb mentioned that you used to take Matty there when he was a toddler, when it was too hard for Seb to do it himself. And it just got me thinking about family and how hodgepodge all of our families are. And how grateful I am that you were there for Seb and Matty before I knew them. And—”

Emotion thick in Via’s throat cut her off. She let out a long breath.

“And you’d love to have your friend there with you,” Mary guessed softly. “Both to support you and maybe to take some of the intensity out of the moment?”

Mary could only guess what it might be like to visit your partner’s deceased wife’s grave for the first time. Especially when it had become so clear that Via and Matty were as close to mother and son as two people could really get. Mary figured that if her presence there would tone down the symbolism in Via’s mind a little bit, that if it were a group of people there, and not Seb and Matty bringing Via to, like, introduce her or something, it might be a little bit easier. Well, Mary could make that happen.

“Yes,” Via said quietly, clearing her throat. Her eyes flicked to the ceiling, where they could hear Matty’s and John’s footsteps as they started descending the stairs. “Seb thought it would be a good idea too. If you want to, that is.”

“I’d be honored,” Mary answered immediately. She’d have to refigure the shift schedule at the shop for the weekend, but that was small potatoes, really. “Can I bring John?”

“Of course!” Via squeaked, both with relief and pleasure. “I really like John!”

“Oh. Good,” he said from behind her, a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and glasses in the other. “I really like you too.”

Via turned bright pink and just laughed at herself.

“I found cookies,” Matty informed the group, holding up a box of Girl Scout cookies that Mary didn’t even remember purchasing.

“How in God’s name did you find those?”

“They were in the back of your cabinet.”

“He literally got on his hands and knees and disappeared into the cabinet,” John said, laughing. “The kid is like a bloodhound.”

“Let’s check the expiration date on these, shall we?” Mary reached down and laughed. “Yikes. Two years old. I think we’d better skip it, my dude.”

Matty’s face fell.

“There’s that bakery down the block,” Kylie said, emerging from the back of the store and wiping her dusty hands on her trousers. “If you need a cookie fix, Matty.”

Matty took a gasping gulp of air after he was finished demolishing an entire cup of lemonade. “Yes. I do. I need cookies. Will you come too?”