But before she could get away, Roshaun popped up at the door asking for ice cream. She fetched more dishes and cleared others away. As she loaded the dishwasher, a freshly showered Dean walked past her. “Thanks again, Blue. You’re the best.” Moments later, she heard him on the porch, laughing with his friends.

She stood there, taking in the kitchen that she loved so much. This was it, then. Or was it? She had to know for sure. Hands shaking, she set a couple of cans of warm diet soda on a tray, added the last bottle of cold beer, and carried it all out to the porch.

Courtney stood next to Dean, her arm curled around his waist, a strand of her shiny hair caught on the sleeve of his gray polo shirt. In her wedged heels, she was nearly his height. “But, Boo, you have to be back in time for Andy and Sherilyn’s party. I promised we’d be there.”

He’s mine! Blue wanted to say. But he wasn’t. Nobody belonged to her, and nobody ever had. She carried the tray over to him. Their eyes met—those familiar blue eyes that had laughed into her own so often. She started to say she’d saved the last cold beer for him, but before she could open her mouth, he looked away, as if she were invisible.

A giant lump grew in her throat. She set the tray gently on the table, went inside, and blindly made her way back to the dining room.

More laughter drifted her way. She grabbed her brushes and began cleaning them out. She worked mechanically, tightening paint lids, storing her tools, folding drop cloths, determined to clean everything up so she wouldn’t have to come back here. The plastic over the doorway rustled and Courtney poked her head into the dining room. For all her claims of being a teacher, she apparently couldn’t read a NO ADMITTANCE sign.

“I have a tiny emergency,” she said without even glancing at the murals. “Our drivers went to get lunch, and I’m getting a giant zit. I don’t have my cover-up stick with me. Would you mind driving into town and getting some Erace or something? And maybe pick up some mineral water while you’re there?” Courtney turned away. “Let me see if the others want anything.”

Blue shoved the paint cart out of her way and told herself to give him a chance. But it was Courtney who returned, a hundred-dollar bill pressed between her fingers. “Cover-up stick, mineral water, and three bags of Cheetos. Keep the change.” She pushed the money into Blue’s hand. “Thanks, hon.”

A dozen scenarios flashed through Blue’s mind. She chose the one that let her keep her dignity.