“Unity, could you stay after a few minutes?” Carmen asked.

Unity had already started out of the community center meeting room, wanting to get back to work. She’d almost skipped grief group but had decided to attend at the last second. She was even more sad than she had been. No, not sad. Uneasy. She couldn’t get comfortable in her own skin.

She’d been unable to forget what she and Dagmar had talked about and she’d been unable to stop thinking about what it would be like to have a baby. She and Stuart had always talked about having a family, but somehow that had seemed more in theory than real. But the child she’d seen in her arms, the child she’d felt, seemed to already be alive.

She nodded at Carmen, then sat. Nothing the group facilitator had to say would be good news, she thought grimly.

As if to prove her point, Carmen began with a rueful smile followed by, “This is so difficult.”

Carmen held out a piece of paper with three names and phone numbers on it. “I’ve been thinking a lot about your situation, Unity, and I believe the grief group isn’t helping you. The average stay for our members is eight months. You’ve been coming here nearly three years.”

She continued to hold out the paper until Unity took it.

“Any one of these counselors would be able to give you the one-on-one support you need to figure out how to heal. Regardless of who you pick, you’ll be in good hands.”

Unity stared at the neat printing, then looked at Carmen. “Are you throwing me out of grief group?”

“I think it’s time you tried something else.”

Unity nodded because there was nothing to say. She could beg to be kept around only Carmen wasn’t wrong. Still, there was no denying the rejection hurt.

“I like everyone,” she whispered. “I like coming here.”

“I know and we like you, too. All of us. Please promise you’ll contact the people on the list.”

Unity nodded, mostly to get away rather than because she intended to follow through.

Carmen sighed. “You’re allowed to be happy, Unity, even after you lose someone. I wish you could believe that.”

Unity rose. Carmen walked over and held her tight.

“You’re a wonderful person. Please stay in touch with me.”

“Thank you.”

Unity walked out of the room. Part of her wanted to go back and ask about the ethics of tossing out a member who was obviously in pain. Weren’t there rules against that? But to what end?

She drove back to her house. Once she was inside, she sat on the living room sofa. The blows just kept coming, she thought. She wasn’t welcome anywhere.

She looked at the names and the numbers Carmen had given her. A therapist would tell her she had to get busy living. That for now, going through the motions was plenty—that wanting to get better would follow action, but first she had to force herself to do something constructive. She’d been through it before—when she’d first moved back to Willowbrook.