She reminded herself for the umpteenth time how amazing her mother-in-law had been, pitching in however she could, even if that meant simply lightening the mood with a joke. Her own parents had been calling a lot more lately and sent an enormous gift basket full of French cheeses and mini wines, perfect for a pregnant person, naturally, but it wasn’t the same as having someone do the nightly dishes.

Annette had been a huge help these past few weeks. Quite frankly, Sadie wasn’t sure how she would have managed otherwise, what with Ethan being on crutches as they both worked their butts off to start their new business ventures. It was thanks to Annette that Hester’s grand opening was still on schedule, Ethan’s company was officially up and running, and Lincoln was happy and well fed.

Honestly, they were all feeling happy and well-fed with Annette around.

Annette studied the ground for a few seconds—probably noticing that the deck boards needed replacing; it was the one area she and Ethan hadn’t tackled during the renovation—and then sighed. “I believe that I owe you an apology.”

Wait—what?

Had the earth stopped spinning?

Was hell flash freezing?

Were pigs flying over the Cove?

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Sadie shook her head a few times, making a pen fall out from behind her ear. “Did you say…an apology?”

“Oh, where to start?” Annette wrung her pearly pink manicured hands together. Sadie was surprised to see how anxious she was. “I’m sorry for overstepping. I’ve done that a lot since you and Ethan got married, and especially since Lincoln was born—”

“Aren’t they one in the same?” Sadie smiled, making a joke at her own expense.

Annette smiled back, visibly less nervous. “I suppose I had a difficult time wrapping my mind around the fact that there are many ways to parent, to mother. I am so proud of the man Ethan is today, and I think I gave myself a little too much credit for that.”

“No,” Sadie said. “You did help make him the wonderful person he is today.”

“Well, thank you. But that’s just it. I helped. I contributed,” she said. “A lot of things made my children the adults they are now. And it wasn’t like I cracked some sort of secret mothering formula. Yet, I have a bad habit of thinking it’s my way or the highway.”

“I have to admit, the parenting book you sent?”

Annette interrupted, “One of my sisters suggested it. But that’s no excuse. It was stupid. Do you know what Richard used to say? ‘It’s Annette’s world, we just live in it.’ It was a joke—sort of. And I had no business offering you advice on your marriage. Lord knows I am hardly a paragon of perfection.”