Family pictures lined the hallway. There were his parents’ wedding pictures, along with several photos from her wedding to Stuart. On the opposite wall were dozens of pictures of Stuart, marking his passage from adorable baby to handsome man, with blond hair and green eyes.

She touched his framed senior picture, wishing she could touch him instead. But he was gone and she was alone and no matter how she fought against that truth, she couldn’t change it.

She went into the garage and stared at the shelves she’d hung on the walls. She kept her tools there, along with basic supplies she needed for her business. There was an old washer and dryer in the back, a freezer she never used and a door to the backyard. All in all a good house, she thought. Too big for her, but she had no reason to move. This was her home. Even more important, it had been Stuart’s home and living here allowed her to still be close to him.

Only... Only... Maybe that wasn’t enough. Unity returned to the living room where she stared out the front window and wondered what she was supposed to do with herself. Ellen was gone, there was no pickleball league. She felt weird about her grief group and hadn’t gone on Saturday. She was sure there were other activities at Silver Pines, but she was beginning to wonder if she was really welcome there. She supposed she could call Dagmar and ask if she wanted to have dinner or something, only she hadn’t spoken to her friend since that disastrous dinner. Honestly, she was a little embarrassed to get in touch with her.

Which left her restless and more than a little lost. Maybe she should—

Her phone rang. She answered it, grateful for the interruption.

“Hello?”

“Unity? It’s Thaddeus.”

Her mind went totally blank for at least three seconds. Thaddeus, as in Thaddeus? He’d called? Her mouth opened and closed as she sank onto the living room sofa. “Oh. Um, hi.”

“Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Despite the wrinkle in our first meeting, I was wondering if you wanted to get together and do something. Maybe go to dinner or a movie.”

Wrinkle? Was that how he thought of her subpar ability to exist in a fairly normal social situation? While his word choice was polite, she knew that disaster was much closer to the truth.

Then the rest of what he’d said sank in and she found herself standing, then sitting again. Dinner? A movie?

“Are you asking me out?”

She heard a soft, low chuckle over the phone. “Yes.”

“Why? I wasn’t interesting or even coherent.” I don’t even remember what you look like. Although probably best not to say that.

“And yet here I am, calling and asking.”

She was too surprised to be freaked out, which was probably a good thing. Was it a date? No, he couldn’t want to date her. That was too strange to consider.