Grace climbed behind the steering wheel. She placed a reassuring hand on top of Monica’s.

“I know it’s difficult, dear,” she said. “But the kids will enjoy getting some sunshine and playing with other children their age, for a time. A temporary change of scenery and fresh air will help revitalize you as well.”

“I know you’re right.” Monica smiled weakly. “Thank you for everything.”

Grace had made all of the arrangements for Duchess, though Troy had initially planned to do so. She’d contacted a local pet cremation service, and a soft-spoken young woman had arrived within an hour to collect the ravaged corpse from the garage where Troy had placed it, the body nestled within the dog’s old fleece blanket. The cremation would be performed within twenty-four hours, after which time they would send Monica the remains and she could dispose of them as she saw fit.

First Lily, now Duchess. It was unimaginable that within the span of a few days, she had experienced the deaths of two beloved members of her family. While some people might have balked at the idea of shedding tears over a dead dog, Duchess had been a constant presence in their household for several years. Her infectious energy would be greatly missed.

Brook Run Park covered over a hundred acres, and included a community garden, dog run, skate park, and an enormous playground; the wide variety of swings, ladders, tube slides, jungle gyms, and other playsets could accommodate children of various age ranges. Canvas canopies protected the equipment from the elements, the ground covered in a synthetic material designed to cushion falls. A plentitude of wooden benches allowed adults to take a load off while the little ones cavorted about.

Predictably, at eleven o’clock on a balmy Sunday, the playground was crowded with children and their parents or grandparents. Junior climbed onto one of the swings, while Grace accompanied Lexi to a nearby playset to interact with older children. Monica gave Junior a good push. Her son cried with delight as he swooped through the crisp autumn air.

Watching her boy, Monica couldn’t hold back a grin. Her mother had been spot on. Coming out here, removing the focus from her own troubles for a while and letting her children have fun, feeling the warm sunshine on her skin, was like medicine for her wounded spirit.

It was remarkable, really. Her mother had been in her life for barely twenty-four hours, and already, she felt indispensable. Monica appreciated that Grace was able to stay for another week, that she had more days to enjoy her mom’s company and explore their burgeoning relationship. There was so much left to talk about, so many things to do together—truly, a lifetime to catch up on.

A sharp, familiar cry snapped Monica out of her reverie.