Instead, she knelt down and opened her arms as naturally as possible. Paige came rushing to her in her soccer outfit while Peter came in behind her. She wondered if theyd ever looked more perfect. Paige was the spitting image of her father, their dark hair and slightly pointed chins hard to miss. As Paige came in with her bright smile and her short-cut hair bobbing up and down, Peter trailed behind, carrying his briefcase as well as Paiges school bookbag. As he watched his daughter and wife hugging, he said, Youre home earlier than I expected.

I left earlier than Id planned, she said. She released Paige and then hugged Peter. As she kissed him softly on the cheek, he whispered in her ear. He asked a question and even though it was not about her, she felt guilty. And she knew exactly why.

How is she? Is everything okay?

Come in the kitchen with me, would you? she asked. They broke the hug and Rachel instantly looked to Paige. You got homework?

Just a little bit. One worksheet.

Okay. Listen…I need to talk to Daddy about private grown-up stuff for just a few minutes. Can you go ahead and knock that worksheet out while we talk in the kitchen?

The frown on her face indicated that she was not a fan of this idea, but Paige nodded. She took the bookbag from her father and unzipped it, rummaging around for the worksheet. Rachel took Peter by the hand and led him into the kitchen. She could see by the grim expression on his face that he pretty much already knew bad news was coming.

Rachel leaned against the kitchen counter and Peter stood close to her. Are you okay? he whispered.

I am, yes. But Grandma Tate found out that she has breast cancer. They caught it on the late side and shes made the decision to not get any treatments for it.

Peter looked baffled for a moment but did a good job of keeping his voice low when he said, No treatments? Why did she make that decision?

She doesnt want her final days muddied and messy by medicines that might only give her another year or so. She smiled thinly and added: She truly seems at peace with it.

So how long does she have?

A year and a half. Maybe two years at most.

Oh my God, Peter said. He looked back into the living room, making sure Paige had not decided to play spy. Does she need anything?

Not right now, no. Just our support and to help plan a weekend or so when she can come up and see Paige for a while.

Do you think we tell Paige? Or should we leave that for your grandmother?

I think we leave it to Grandma Tate. And we could be there to help answer questions about what it all means.