But it hadn’t been enough, not when she owed so much to her mother, and to her father’s memory.

She ran a hand along the cool countertop and opened the refrigerator door, smiling slightly as she took in the neat containers of food on the shelves. The Wildflower Inn was a bed-and-breakfast, but Angi also knew it could be a culinary destination for guests.

With a happy whine of greeting, Emma’s dog, Ethel, came padding into the kitchen from the front of the house.

“Have you been entertaining guests, sweetheart?” Angi bent down to scratch behind the labradoodle’s fluffy ears. Drew had been asking for a dog—or a pet of some sort—for months now, ever since he met Meredith Ventner, the woman who owned and operated the local rescue, Furever Friends.

Angi had said no without hesitation when they’d been in the apartment, not sure how she would add one more responsibility to her already long list of duties. Now it was an even less likely prospect since they’d be living with her mother for several more months. One more option taken out of her hands. A grown woman, and she couldn’t even choose whether to adopt a pet.

“Are you and Ethel coming up with a plan for world peace?” Emma asked as she walked into the room. “Looks like a serious conversation between the two of you.”

Angi straightened and the dog headed over to her bed in the corner. “I can’t get a dog because I live with my mother.”

“Based on how I’ve heard you talk before, you don’t want a dog.”

Angi scrunched up her nose. “A cat isn’t an option either.”

“Do you want a cat?”

“That’s not the point.” She blew out a breath. “The point is I’m thirty years old and I live with my mother.”

“Because you’re taking care of her,” Emma reminded her.

They both turned as Mariella entered through the kitchen door. “Why so serious?” she asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Angi is lamenting the fact that she’s currently staying with her mom.”

“Not exactly lamenting,” Angi said with a sniff.

Mariella nodded. “It’s kind of pathetic on paper even if it’s for a good reason.”

Angi inclined her head as Emma bit back a laugh. “Did you just call me pathetic?” she asked Mariella, horrified to discover tears stinging the back of her eyes.

“She didn’t mean it,” Emma said quickly.

“I was joking,” Mariella confirmed, looking at Angi in shock. “You and I trade jabs. It’s what we do.”

“Yeah.” Angi turned back to the refrigerator and pretended to study the contents. “It was a good one. A joke. Right now, my whole life feels like a joke.”

She stiffened as Mariella grabbed her shoulders and turned her. “Um, nope. You aren’t a joke. I was making one, apparently badly. I was funnier back when I was drinking. Or at least I thought I was funny. You’re handling more right now than most people deal with in a decade. Give yourself a break, sis. If anyone deserves one, it’s you.”