Caitlyn raises her head to look at me, but goes back to reading.

The wind has died a little bit, but short gusts will occasionally rake across the house.

I’ve gotten over the shock of seeing Nicole. Honestly, it’s nothing new.

I’ve been having dreams about her. They started the day after the accident. Sometimes, they’re nightmares. Other times, they’re wonderful visions where we’re living our lives, like nothing had happened. I’ll wake up right in the middle of the dream and try to fall back asleep as quickly as possible, in the hopes that I can pick up right where I left off, but whenever I fall back asleep, we have really big heads and are watching sumo wrestling fish or something equally bizarre.

I’ll admit that this was different. It was the first time I’ve seen her while I was awake, but I’m not too bothered by that. After she died, I used to feel like she was around all the time at the apartment, and today of all days, when I was missing her more than I thought possible, of course I would see her in my mind’s eye. I’ve come to grips with the idea that the next few weeks and months are going to be tough with moving into a new house without Nicole. I don’t know how I’m going to react, but I’m just going to have to roll with the punches.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Hello?” a sing-song voice rings from the porch.

I stand up and walk to the door.

I open it to find a woman in her early sixties with short, dyed hair that remains almost motionless against the wind. Her cheeks are creased in laugh-lines. Her eyes sparkle, as does her jewelry. In one hand she has a plate of cookies. In the other, she’s holding a bottle of scotch. She is clearly in a class by herself.

“Are you my new neighbors?” She smiles.

“I believe so,” I reply. “Come on in.”

“Thank you.” She steps inside and I close the door behind her. “I’m Mildred Johnson. I live next door.”

“Hello, Mildred Johnson. I’m Daniel Price and this is my daughter, Caitlyn.”

Caitlyn gets off the couch and joins us.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Mildred says with, of all things, a curtsey to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn loves it and tries to return the gesture. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Johnson.”

“Oh, you can call me Mildred. I wanted to welcome you two to the neighborhood.” She offers the plate of cookies to Caitlyn. “These are my legendary ‘Twice-Spanked Cookies’. The trick is, just as they start to rise when you’re baking them, you spank them down with a spatula.”

Caitlyn takes the plate. “Thank you, Mrs. Johns— I mean, thank you, Mildred.”