Adriana had done the same thing, he thought, quietly sitting next to Dena, prepared to watch over her. Adriana had been embarrassed, but he’d found it charming. He still did.

He supposed it made sense that he was thinking of his late wife more these days. Being around a pregnant woman was bound to bring back memories. As he sipped his wine, he thought about how the images from the past were less sharp than they had been. They no longer cut like glass. Instead, they were a comfort. Recollections of a happier time that made him hopeful about the future.

Without thinking, he stretched out his arm and took one of Dena’s hands in his. She didn’t waken, instead shifting toward him and lacing her fingers with his. In the background he listened as the playlist moved on to another song. At first he didn’t recognize the opening bars, but then he smiled as George Strait began singing “Ocean Front Property.” The man had a great voice, he thought with a grin, and just enough twang to keep Dena happy.

Nine

“You should join us,” Reggie said, stretched out on the bed, Belle by her side. She shifted her phone to the other ear.

“If I skipped Thanksgiving, my mother would hunt me down and kill me,” Paisley said cheerfully. “As it is, I’m only staying for the day, and you know that makes her crazy.”

“She does like time with her favorite daughter.”

“I wish. I’m her only daughter. Okay, have a happy Thanksgiving. Let’s plan something for the weekend. I have a couple of daytime events at the resort, but we can party into the night.”

Reggie laughed. “Last time I was home by ten thirty.”

“We’re older now, and therefore more responsible.”

“Is that what we’re calling it? Talk to you when you’re back.”

She hung up and smiled at Belle. “Paisley is the youngest and she has four older brothers, all of whom are married. They’re going to spend the whole day giving her dating advice.”

Belle frowned slightly.

“I know. They should leave her alone, but do they listen?”

Reggie sat up, then took a shower. Thirty minutes later, she was dressed and made up, with her hair blown out. Downstairs, she found Dena seated at the kitchen island, Belle at her feet.

“How are you feeling?” Reggie asked her sister. “Still getting sick?”

“Yes. And I’m tired all the time.” A little color stained her cheeks. “Last night I fell asleep at Snacks and Wine.”

“While talking to a guest?”

Dena avoided her gaze. “Not exactly, but still. It was embarrassing.”

From the family room, their father yelled at a flag thrown in a football game, and their mother chided him for yelling.

Dena shook her head. “Some things never change.”