“I love my flip phone.” Unity patted her jeans pocket. “It’s dependable and the battery charge lasts forever.”

“That’s because your phone doesn’t do anything,” Jerry grumbled. “Embrace technology. By the time we die, you’ll be replacing us with robots.”

“Not likely.” Unity smiled at them. “And please don’t die.”

“It’s gonna happen eventually,” Howard said cheerfully. “See you later, Unity.”

The guys left, speaking for a minute on the sidewalk before heading for their cars. Unity confirmed that she’d listened to all the messages left on the answering machine, then scanned her date book to make sure the current week’s work had been transferred to the dry-erase board. Old-school, she thought. But simple and dependable. She wasn’t really a technology kind of person.

After closing the garage door, she walked through the house to double-check the back door. She paused in the hall, by the wedding picture taken the week after she’d graduated from high school. She and Stuart had been so young, she thought wistfully, touching the glass protecting the photograph. But they’d been in love and so sure they would be together forever.

The familiar sadness was pushed aside for a moment when she caught sight of the tiny glass beads on her wedding dress. There were hundreds of them, all sewn by hand. She should know—she and Ellen had spent dozens of hours carefully adding the beads to the inexpensive dress that had been all Unity could afford. She’d wanted the beautifully beaded dress, but it had been double her budget. She’d placed the order for the cheaper one, but had left the store in tears.

The next day Ellen had dropped a small, heavy box on Unity’s bed. Inside had been little plastic bags filled with beautiful, iridescent glass beads.

“It’ll take us right up until the wedding,” Ellen had told her. “But you’re going to have the perfect dress when you marry Stuart.”

It was an Ellen kind of thing to do, Unity thought. She believed in showing her love rather than just talking about it. From April until the end of June that year, Ellen had demonstrated her affection with hours of beading, and in the end, Unity had married Stuart...all the while wearing the dress of her dreams.

Her gaze shifted to her late husband’s face, remembering everything about that day. They’d been so thrilled to get married. It had been a magical day, but not the best day. With him, there hadn’t been a best day—there couldn’t be. They were all too good.

And thoughts like that were not helpful, she reminded herself, as the ache of missing him returned. Dagmar was waiting and Dagmar wasn’t the type to take lateness in stride.

Unity drove the three miles to The Village at Silver Pines, otherwise known as just plain Silver Pines, and was waved in by the guard at the gate.