Jack nodded absently, helping his daughter into her bright pink jacket and waving goodbye. Renee watched them go, thinking of all the times she had to give Tansy eardrops. Tansy hated the sensation, so she’d always pop on the Disney Channel as her daughter relaxed her head into her lap. Working quickly and humming softly, Renee would drip in the antifungal medication, massaging her tiny earlobes after each dosage.

She gave a wistful smile as she locked the front door and slid into her windbreaker.

Kids—the reason parents lost it, and the reason they kept it together.

Just then, a hand clasped her shoulder, the touch so unexpected and unfamiliar that she yelped.

“Shoot! Didn’t mean to scare you.” Dr. Dan flashed an apologetic grin and took three brisk steps back, leaving ample personal space. “I just came out to say thanks for sticking around late. I’d have hated to send the Collinses to urgent care.”

Renee nodded, barely able to process his words. How could she think of anything else when the warm sensation of his palm remained branded on her skin? “Thirty miles would feel like three hundred to a sick kid.”

“You’ve got such a good heart.” He looked down at her with such intensity that it was either transfer her gaze to the carpeted floor or combust into flames.

“You can count on me,” she muttered lamely, repeating the silly line her entire drive home.

You can count on me?

What was she, a loyal golden retriever?

Renee parked her silver sedan on Seashell Lane and clicked the automatic lock button—always twice for extra measure, despite the fact that Cranberry Cove must be the safest town in America—before opening the gate to her picket fence. A cobblestone path led to her gray-shingled cottage. This house, her home for the past twenty years, was the second-best treasure from her marriage to Russell Rhodes, the first being Tansy, of course.

Oh, Russ. They’d moved here at twenty-two—such babies!

Did her ex ever think about their days here in the cottage? Did he ever regret the life he tossed away like a used tissue?

When they first moved in here, she’d had a perfect picture of how her married life would turn out. Long walks together on the beach at dusk, skipping stones into the water. Four to six noisy kids. A house filled with love and laughter.

Renee’s sigh felt loud in the silence. It wasn’t all doom and gloom. She had Tansy. And her garden: the phlox, forsythia, and lilacs, the blueberries and sweet fern—everything slowly waking from a long winter’s nap. She hugged herself close. The world was coming alive. It seemed so monumentally unfair to feel this empty inside.

“Hey there, mister!” Sadie was laughing next door. Renee could see them across the fence in their little kitchen, the window above the sink propped open. Lincoln was setting dish soap bubbles on his mother’s nose and cheeks, finding the effect hilarious. “What is Daddy going to say when he gets home? Think he’ll recognize me?”