The words sat in the air like two thick, black storm clouds for a beat before Camille shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do this now. I…need some more tea.”

“Is that what you think?” Summer asked hoarsely, having to follow her mom back to the small employee back room. She couldn’t believe it. “That I don’t want to be with you?”

“I’m sorry.” Camille said again and closed her eyes, a trick Summer recognized all too well as she did the same when she felt the most. “I know being here is getting to you.”

“Mom.” She let out a mirthless laugh. “We’ve got to stop tiptoeing around this. Around everything. Let’s just say what we feel, okay? Yes, it’s hard to be here, but I want to stay.” Now you, she thought. Now you tell me you want me to stay too.

“Camille!” Tina poked her head in, waved her sister over. “This you have to see.”

“What is it?”

“Guess who just executed a slow drive-by to put her nose into our opening day business?”

“Not Ally,” Camille said, shocked.

“I swear it’s her, wearing a big straw hat and dark glasses, the sneaky bitch.”

“I’ll be right there.” Camille looked at Summer.

“Honey, I’m glad you’re here, so glad. But it’s been so long since we’ve done this, spent time…I want to give you want you need, but quite frankly, I’m not sure what that is.”

“You. My mom. My family.”

Camille smiled, but it seemed shaky. “Well that’s easy enough then, since that’s what I am.” Leaning in, she kissed Summer on the cheek, then left.

Summer looked at Socks. “So what do you think of this mess?”

“Mew.”

“Yeah.” Camille’s hesitation made sense. Summer had run. Only once, but she’d kept going, and though she’d been back over the years, she’d never really put her heart into it. Which meant it wasn’t just Camille’s fault that they weren’t close, or any of them for that matter.

Summer’d had a hand in this, in driving the wedge between herself and her mother.

If only it was as easy to undo.

A large crowd showed up for the official opening of Creative Interiors II, which kept everyone on their toes.

Joe and Kenny showed up midmorning. Joe wore washed-out, faded Levi’s, Kenny dark blue trousers. Each man had on their white uniform shirts with the badges on them, though only Joe’s looked like it’d never met an iron it liked. He also wore aviator sunglasses, shoved to the top of his head, nearly lost in the mop of wild summer-kissed waves falling over his forehead. Kenny’s blond hair was firefighter short, and he had on his Harry Potter glasses.

Each man was armed, and each looked quite official in his own way.