The room quieted again when Kate began to strum the opening notes of the song. “This is by someone I hope to meet someday—Martina McBride—and it’s for you, Dad.” She launched into the chorus for “Independence Day.”

Jack tossed his head back with laughter. “Very funny, Kate.”

She gave him a wicked grin as she finished the song. “This one’s for everyone else,” she said, launching into a haunting rendition of Sarah McLaughlin’s “I Will Remember You.”

“She sure is something, isn’t she?” Madeline Harrington asked Clare.

Clare had been so absorbed in Kate, she hadn’t seen Jack walk away. She glanced at her former mother-in-law. “She sure is. She’s going to get where she wants to be.”

“I’m not sure whether to hope for that or against it,” Madeline said with a sigh.

“You don’t approve.”

“It’s not about approval. I worry—no more or less than you and Jack, I’m sure.”

“I have a good feeling about it. I didn’t at first, but she inherited Jack’s ability to get things done. I don’t think I ever really saw that before now.”

“You’ve succeeded in making a doting old grandmother feel better,” Madeline said with a smile. “It’s so good to have you here with us. Sometimes I still can’t believe it. We wished for it for so long.”

Touched, Clare squeezed the older woman’s hand. “Thank you for all the phone calls and cards and visits. You’ve always been so good to me.”

“I love you, Clare, and I always will. For the rest of my life you are my daughter-in-law, and next summer I want to see you at Haven Hill, do you hear me?” Madeline referred to her home on Block Island where they’d summered together for years when the girls were younger.

“I promise,” Clare said as she hugged her. “I love you, too, Madeline.”

“Well, I told Betty I’d help her get the babies down. It’s going to take both grannies to settle those rascals.”

Clare chuckled. “Good luck.”

Jill walked up to them with a baby brother in one arm and the ice bucket in the other. She handed the baby to her grandmother. “I hear you’re on bedtime duty.”

“That’s right.” Madeline held her grandson up to gaze at him. “And which one are you, my love?”

“Robby,” Jill said. “I think.”

“Does that need a refill?” Clare asked, pointing to the ice bucket. When Jill nodded, Clare took it from her. “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Mom. Right through there,” Jill said, pointing the way.

“I’ll find it.” Clare wove through clusters of people on her way to the hallway off the great room. She pushed open the swinging kitchen door to find Jack resting his forehead against Andi’s. Her hands were on his face as she spoke softly to him.