Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Epilogue
- A Note from the Author
- Discussion Questions
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Acclaim for David Rawlings
- Also by David Rawlings
The confusion on Anna’s face was at odds with her nod. “We also need to talk about Monique. She’s back at work, but she’s been erratic and rude with some clients. I’ve talked to her, and she’s planning to take stress leave. By the sound of her conversation with you, just in time.”
Daniel breathed easier. At least one problem had an easy solution. “It’s probably best.”
Anna drew in a sharp breath. “Is it, Daniel?” Her voice shook with a quiet rage. “Did you hear what I said? She’s taking stress leave. If it looks at all like you’re responsible, the practice will be on a legal hook if she pursues it. I can’t force you to do anything, but you need to do something. And now it’s more than for your own sake; it’s for all our sakes. Take a day off, clear your head, and sort things out. I’ll cover for you here. Go for a walk right now and take some photos with that camera Gramps gave you.” She nodded toward his desk.
Daniel spun in his chair. Gramps’s camera sat next to the photo frames, its single, unblinking eye staring him down.
Thirty-Two
Kelly stared into her own eyes, eyes from an age ago. Eyes sparkling love in the present and hope in the future. On her young cheeks was a rosy sheen she hadn’t seen in some time, and her slender, wine-bottle neck swept down to a figure she’d spent too long trying to hide because she was convinced it wasn’t worth looking at. How wrong she was back then.
But her eyes held the biggest change.
Next to her in the wedding photo was a loving glance above a goofy grin from a tuxedoed Daniel, tall and proud. Neither of those traits had changed. They held hands in the sunset, and she saw the one thing she missed most. Connection.
Kelly straightened their wedding photo and brought her living room back to order. Ruffled cushions arranged on the leather sofa. Magazines fanned on the coffee table. She tried to conjure happy memories, times when her dream home had delivered dreams.
Memories of happier times trickled back. A four-year-old Milly telling her looping, interminable stories, keeping her parents in stitches with extra detail that required a reboot of the entire story with each addition. Providing the audience for a serious seven-year-old’s dance recital in a homemade newspaper crown. As the stories unfolded, the brush of her memory painted in the background. The sofa was brown velour, not gray leather. The room was small, not expansive with views to the ocean.
The memories were not of this house.
The happier times rolled on. Gramps’s eightieth birthday, Kelly’s Cajun dishes a hit. Milly’s squeals of delight, her tiny cheeks glowing from the candlelight on the teddy bear cake that had kept Kelly up until midnight.