Noelle had faced her own grief and her demons, walked through all of her personal hells to the other side. She was so brave, and competent, and—this shouldn’t be such a sexy quality but somehow it was—stalwart. She loved Carrigan’s as much as Miriam did and understood Miriam’s ideas for it. She felt like she’d found someone who spoke a language she thought she’d dreamed.

“Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I like her a lot. What’s the sitch? Are you making out?”

Miriam hugged her pillow in front of her. “We baked rugelach at three a.m. There were several Significant Looks, but no smooches.”

“What’s the holdup?” he asked. “Are you worried you’ll break up and your new life will suddenly be very uncomfortable? Hard to hide from a breakup if you live in a hotel with your ex.”

“She doesn’t date,” Miriam said, “and I need to not date, probably. Plus she scares me. I don’t think she wants to be all in, and that would be my only setting with her. If I put a toe in, I’m going to fall hard.”

“Are you not going to hook up, then?” Cole asked, his face skeptical.

“That’s what we agreed to. I’m not sure how long it will last.” Miriam scrunched up her nose. She knew she should want to wait before starting a new relationship, instead of throwing herself in the deep end, but her hormones felt otherwise, as did the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’ll be making out in a week,” Cole predicted.

Miriam stuck out her tongue. “Thank you for your faith in my willpower. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ziva’s here,” Mr. Matthews grumbled as he passed through the breakfast room.

“Your mom’s here,” Noelle warned, as she came in to get coffee.

By the time Hannah texted her to say, “FYI your mom’s outside,” Miriam knew she should probably go find her.

Ziva was standing on the front lawn in the freezing wind when Miriam trudged outside, her long coat whipping around her, looking very much like Cathy waiting for Heathcliff on the moors.

Miriam was equally amused and annoyed. “Mom, are you out here waiting for someone to come ask you what the matter is? You know you can brood attractively inside next to the fire, right?”

“But darling, it would be so much less elegant,” Ziva said wryly. “I bought this coat just to look melodramatic. I haven’t gotten my money’s worth, yet.”

“You can drop the mask, Mom. It’s only me. I know you, remember?”

Miriam watched her mother’s face change, rearranging all her features into something wholly different, and much more exhausted.

Miriam continued. “What are you doing out here, anyway?” Or at Carrigan’s, for that matter. She was probably here to berate Miriam about ending her engagement, which would be a fun conversation.