ROBIN WOKE UP to the smell of bacon and the sound of muffled laughter. With her eyes still closed, she lay in bed for a few moments, believing she was a kid again and it was Sunday morning, both her parents downstairs, her mother in her apron, freshly cooked bacon lined up on a stretched-out paper towel. In her mind, she saw Mom giving Dad a playful push as he tried to swipe a piece, and it felt real, as though adulthood had been a long, problematic dream she was finally waking up from.

But the feeling dissolved as soon as she opened her eyes. When she threw on her robe and headed downstairs, she saw that it was Nicola who was in the kitchen cooking the bacon, one of her mother’s aprons tied around jeans and a denim shirt. Mom stood beside her in her robe and pajamas, cracking an egg into a bowl. She was easing out of a recent bout of laughter, wiping a tear from her cheek. “Oh, Nikki, you’re just crazy,” she said. It was strange how Nicola affected Renee. She made her happy, clearly. But unnaturally happy, Robin thought, especially given the circumstances. It was starting to annoy her, which made her angry with herself.

Eric sat at her mother’s kitchen table in his work clothes, reading the New York Post. Her parents subscribed to the Post, the Times, the Daily News, and the Wall Street Journal. On Sunday mornings, after breakfast, they’d go back to bed with all the papers and read them to each other. According to Mom, Dad secretly loved the gossip on Page 6 and would always try and guess the blind items . . . Robin swallowed hard. Tried to tune out her mother’s laughter, Nicola’s shrieks. Everyone grieves in her own way. You know this. Be kind.

Eric stood up. Took a last gulp of his coffee and grabbed his phone. “I gotta go to work,” he said. “See you tonight, Renee?”

“Only for as long as it takes you to pick up your bag,” Mom said. “You guys need to go home. I’m fine.”

Robin said, “It’s no trouble.”

Renee looked at her. “Yes, it is.” She said it quietly and firmly, as though she were scolding a child. Then her face relaxed. “Honestly, honey. I’m fine. Nikki is taking me to the doctor this afternoon, and I’m sure I’ll pass my checkup with flying colors.”

“What about the reporters?” Eric said. “They’ll be back, as soon as they find out you’re home. At the very least, we can call the cops, run interference, say ‘no comment.’”

“I can do all those things,” Renee said.

Nicola smiled. “And so can I.”

“Okay, I guess.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Waved to Nicola. “Have a nice day.”