Amy spoke through a pasted-on smile. “He’s holding her hand.”

Jack had always made time in his college social calendar to stop by with a friend or two, but never, in three years, had he arrived holding a girl’s hand.

“Amy, stop.” Phil patted her denim-covered bottom.

Jack arrived at her side, hugged her. The warmth and firmness of her son washed over her in tenderness. She’d never asked, but she often wondered if other mothers wanted to weep with pure joy each time they hugged their grown-up children.

“Hi, Mom.” Jack kissed her on the side of her face. He always did. “I want you to meet Lisbeth.”

“Hello.” Amy spoke to the small girl who stared only at Jack.

“Lisbeth, this is my mom.”

Lisbeth looked at Amy and smiled. Her blue eyes were so clear they seemed almost see-through. Eyes like this in a girl with pale skin and chestnut curls cascading down her shoulders startled Amy. Lisbeth looked like a picture of an Irish imp—not the German Lisbeth she’d imagined.

Lisbeth spoke with the soft shawl of Jack’s arm flung over her shoulders. “Nice to meet you, ma’am.” Lisbeth blinked. Amy did not. Something about Lisbeth’s jaw caused Amy to feel as though she needed to reach out to touch it.

Jack turned to his father. “And this is my dad, Phil.”

Phil held out his hand. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“You too, sir.” Lisbeth shook Phil’s hand.

Amy stared at Lisbeth’s face: familiar and unfamiliar, nagging. Lisbeth turned, blushed under Amy’s stare. “My parents are on their way, if you don’t mind. I tried to explain where you were.”

“Well, you keep an eye out for them. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to dinner last night, but we’d love to meet them. We have plenty of food.” Amy reached for Phil’s hand. “We’ll unload the car.”

She turned from her son and his new love; she somehow felt young, their age. It was easy to do on a fall day with gold leaves crackling under her feet, old friends surrounding her on the university campus.

Phil carried the chairs to the other side of the lawn, and before Amy could finish unloading the cooler, Jack called to her.

“Mom, come meet Lisbeth’s parents.”

Amy turned. Lisbeth’s father moved into her field of vision. She tried to speak, but the autumn air gripped her voice in a tight portent fist.

The man hugged Lisbeth. “Lizzy, darlin’, I thought we’d never find you.” He kissed the tip of her nose.