Natalie stuck out her tongue. As they went upstairs, she asked, “What’s a marm, anyway? Does anyone even know?”

“It’s the opposite of how hot you’re going to look once we find something for you to wear.”

Natalie took out her go-to cocktail dress, the fitted black sheath with a boat neck and a slit in the hem, holding it up for Cleo’s approval.

“Boring, sorry. The only way that would work is with Manolos or Jimmy Choos. And a major statement bracelet or arm cuff.”

“Not in my budget, unfortunately. I do have a hair and nail appointment.”

“Come on, this is going to be a once-in-a-lifetime evening. You found a lost treasure and you should look the part. Get in touch with your inner Lara Croft.”

Natalie laughed briefly. “It’s black tie. Not black leather.”

Cleo went through Natalie’s collection of dresses, neatly hung on the back of the bathroom door. Everything was muted and subdued, Natalie observed. Safe choices, not designed to draw attention.

“My clothes are boring,” she admitted. “Shoot. Maybe I’m boring.”

“Bullshit. I forbid you to think that way. Let’s have a look in your mom’s closet,” Cleo suggested.

Natalie winced. “Do we have to?”

“It’s time. You’ve been putting it off, and believe me, I totally get that. I won’t force you, but I do think it would be good for you to get started on … you know.”

“Going through her stuff. Throwing things away. Because God knows, I need to feel my heart break again.”

“I’m sorry,” Cleo said.

“I know. And you’re right.” Natalie sucked in a breath, held it around her heart to cushion the blow. “Mom would’ve been so excited by all this.”

“She would have,” said Cleo. “Suppose you find something of hers to wear? That’d be cool, right?”

Natalie hesitated, picturing her mother putting together an outfit for going out. “She did have really good taste.”

“It’ll be okay, Natalie. Let’s clear out her closet.”

“What?” Natalie felt a thrum of panic in her chest.

“I’ll help. We can remember things about your mom.”

“I’ve been avoiding this.”

“I know. One of these days, the memories will make you happy.”

“How’d you get so smart?” Natalie asked softly.

“I’m not smart. I just sound that way. And I read that new book on grief recovery that’s been selling so well for us. Feel your feelings, and let shit go. That’s the message.”

“It took a whole book to say that?”

“We’ll make three piles—keep, trash, and donate. Sound good?”

Natalie nodded. “This place is so small. I could definitely use the closet space.”

“I bet we’ll come up with just the thing. Your mom had a gift for finding treasures in vintage shops.”