“Teddy!” Louisa bounded over to the giant dog and rubbed his ears, speaking unrecognizable gibberish as was customary when addressing an adorable animal.

“Well, hello to you, too,” her father said.

“Hey, Dad.” She stood.

“Hey, kitten. It’s good to see you.”

He started walking around the house toward his precious hydrangea bushes. She and Teddy followed.

“So what brings you by?” He knelt down next to the flowers and removed a trowel from the bucket, which, she could see now, was filled with gardening tools. Teddy sniffed the tools for a handful of seconds, then harrumphed down onto the ground beside her father.

“I’m here to see Mom,” Louisa said.

“Did you knock? I think she’s inside.”

“No, you snuck up on me before I could.” She started off in the opposite direction, eager to talk with her mom while her dad was occupied.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he called out.

She walked in the back door and found her mother standing at the sink, filling a pitcher for sun tea and humming a song Louisa eventually recognized as “I Saw Her Standing There” by the Beatles.

The years had been kind to her mother. JoEllen’s dark-red hair was neatly cut into a longish bob that reached to her shoulders and curled under. She took care of herself and always seemed polished and professional, though Louisa knew she’d barely worked a day in her life.

It baffled her, really, that her mom had a college degree she had no desire to use.

“Hey, Mom.”

Her mother startled and hit the faucet on the sink. She spun toward Louisa and clutched her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.”

Her mom waved her off. “It’s fine. You look tired. Have you been getting enough rest?”

“I’m okay.” I nearly died again this morning, but I know you don’t want to hear about that. You probably only want to talk about two things—yourself and when I’m going to reunite with Eric and give you grandchildren.

Her mom walked toward her, and for a brief moment Louisa wondered if the older woman might actually hug her or show some other sign of affection.

Instead, JoEllen stopped right in front of Louisa, gave her a once-over, then inched back. “You need to have your brows done.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Mother.”

“Of course it’s good to see you, Louisa.” Her mom walked back toward her pitcher of tea, screwed the lid on, then moved toward the front door. She set the pitcher on the porch and gave it a pat. “Do your thing, Mr. Sunshine.”

Louisa refrained from rolling her eyes. It occurred to her in that moment that her family was weird.

Was she weird? Oh, gosh, she was, wasn’t she?

“Louisa?”

“Hmm?”