“I’m not in the mood to deal with this.” Monica ran her fingers through her hair. “God, I’m so exhausted.”

“It’s a woman’s burden to bear.” Grace offered a wry smile. “We carry the weight of the family on our shoulders, while the menfolk play with their toys. They’re good only for screwing.”

Sighing, Monica snatched Lexi’s plate off the table. She took the plate into the family room. Lexi was hiding in the corner behind her dollhouse, clearly expecting an angry reprimand.

Monica put the plate on the coffee table.

“Eat in here, I don’t care,” she said. “I’m not going to fight with you.”

Lexi peeked from behind the dollhouse, lips parted in confusion. Glaring at her, Monica turned to walk out. As she did, she stepped on one of Lexi’s stuffed animals, twisted her ankle, and didn’t regain her balance in time to prevent a fall. She plunged forward and banged against the carpet, barely avoiding knocking her head against an end table.

The impact snapped through her so painfully that she let out a yelp. Hot tears seared her eyes.

“Mommy!” Lexi ran to her. “Are you okay, Mommy?”

Monica’s entire left side pulsed, and her ankle felt full of crushed glass. She tried to draw herself upright, but couldn’t manage it. The pain was too intense and left her weakened.

Help, I’ve fallen and I can’t get up! she thought, comically, and had to choke back a burst of wild, fatalistic laughter.

“Mommy’s . . . okay,” Monica said, breathing hard. “I need a minute to get my bearings.”

Grace entered the family room, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. “I thought I’d heard a cry. Are you all right, dear?”

“I lost my balance. I’ll be okay.”

Kneeling beside her, Grace grasped her by the arm, and helped her stand. In spite of her slight frame, her mother seemed so strong and sturdy that Monica had the thought that Grace could have picked her up as easily as if she were a baby, and a remark Troy had made last night flashed through her mind: She’s a helluva lot stronger than she looks, unbelievably so.

Monica moved to the nearest upholstered chair and eased onto it. Her left ankle throbbed. She massaged it carefully.

Grace watched her, brows furrowed with concern.

“I think it’s only a sprain,” Monica said. “I’ll be fine. Please, go ahead with dinner. I don’t want the food to get cold.”

“Come along, sweetheart.” Grace touched Lexi’s shoulder. “Pick up your plate. We’re going to eat in the kitchen, as family.”

“Yes, Nana,” Lexi said obediently.

Grace winked at Monica, and ushered Lexi back into the kitchen.