Unity walked up the path and stepped into the home. She wasn’t familiar with the floor plan but, based on the size of the living room, assumed this was a one-bedroom with a den. Maybe twelve hundred square feet.

A man in his forties walked into the living room and smiled at her. “Good afternoon. I’m John. Are you looking for a place for your parents?”

A perfectly reasonable question, she thought, fighting both laughter and tears. Because Silver Pines was an age-restricted community and she had no business looking at houses here.

“I am,” she lied, knowing she was a fool and probably needed mental professional help.

“Excellent. Do you know much about the area? The Village at Silver Pines is a wonderful community full of activities and friendly residences.”

He did a quick three-minute sales pitch on the area, then took her on a quick tour of the house. She saw a nice patio off the back, the safety bar in the large walk-in shower and took the brochure he offered before thanking him and leaving. She stepped out front to find Dagmar’s car blocking her van and the woman herself waiting on the sidewalk.

Unity battled guilt and a need to defend herself. She clutched the folder to her chest as she approached her friend, knowing she was going to get yelled at, or worse.

But instead of complaining that Unity had no right to be looking at houses in Silver Pines or pointing out that instead of moving forward, she was moving backward, Dagmar only smiled at her.

“Come on back to my place. I’ll make you lunch.”

Unity nodded and got in her van. Ten minutes later, she was seated at the island in Dagmar’s kitchen, watching the older woman set out a beautiful cheese plate along with three kinds of crackers.

“Start on that,” Dagmar told her. “I’ll cut up some fruit, then make you an omelet.”

“I’m not that hungry.”

“You should be. From the looks of things, you haven’t been eating.” Dagmar raised her eyebrows. “Don’t try to tell me otherwise. Women lose weight in their faces first. Yours is gaunt.”

Unity dutifully cut off a piece of cheese and put it on a cracker. “I’ve been busy.”

Dagmar put out grapes, then sliced up two peaches, along with a nectarine. She slid the plate close to Unity before joining her at one of the stools.

“Busy doesn’t make you sad,” the older woman said bluntly. “You look sad. What happened?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“There’s only one he we have in common, so no. Thaddeus hasn’t said anything. I repeat my question. What happened?”

Unity desperately wished she hadn’t said anything, but it was too late now. “He asked me out and I told him we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

Dagmar tapped the cheese plate. “Eat. You’re not eating.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

“I have no reason to be.”