Karly flushed with embarrassment as she slid her phone back into her purse. She’d already called her parents four times to make sure that our daughter was fine. Which, of course, she was. But this was the first time we’d gone out on our own since Ellie was born, so I understood why Karly was nervous.

“Oh, yes, everything’s perfect. Just like you said it would be. If you can believe it, my dad says that my mother is on her knees squawking and making duck noises to entertain her.”

“Susannah? Please tell me he took video.”

“He did. He’s sending it to my phone. You know, I’m beginning to think this grandparent thing may buy me a free pass for having quit the real estate business.”

I smiled at my sudden sense of déjà vu. “Do you miss it?”

“No. What about you?”

“The hotel biz? Not a bit. I prefer the nonprofit world. Well, except when I see my paycheck.”

“We do okay,” Karly said.

She slipped her hand into mine as we stood by the lake. It was a clear July evening, late, with the day’s blue sky giving way to darkness. Only a handful of stars outshone the lights of the city. Crowds surrounded us up and down the lakeshore. Other couples walked hand in hand, children squealed, and joggers ran along the waterfront sidewalk. Behind us, we could hear the strains of rock music blaring from the band shell in Grant Park. Polish, Mexican, Greek, barbecue, and a hundred other ethnic food aromas mixed in the air. The Taste of Chicago festival was going on, and thousands of people were squeezed into downtown on a Saturday night. We’d come here to join the party.

And to mark an anniversary.

“Two years,” Karly said, because she could see we were thinking about the same thing. “Two years ago tonight, we nearly died in that river.”

Despite the warm air, she shivered with a memory of being under the water. I tilted up her chin and kissed her soft lips. “But we didn’t die.”

“No.”

“Do you want the truth? I wouldn’t change what happened even if I could. That night made everything better.”

“I know it did.”

“Look at me now,” I added, smiling. “I’m married to the poet laureate of River Park.”

Karly rolled her eyes. “It’s one book. We’ll be lucky if we make five hundred dollars.”

“That doesn’t matter. I’m incredibly proud of you.”