Certainly, the job wasn’t helping, despite her hard work and dedication to Pinnacle. Most days, her career felt like a grind. Somewhere along the way, she’d grown to hate the work. That, combined with the depressing thought that she and Rick were coming to an end, rolled over her in a fresh swell of nausea.

Stop it, she lectured herself. The promotion had come with a hefty raise and equity in the company. If she stayed on this path, she’d be set for life. Growing up in the bookstore with her flighty mother at the helm, that sense of security, of equilibrium, had been lacking.

Most days, she reflected, trying to power through the nausea, that was reason enough to stick with her job at Pinnacle.

She finished dressing in crop pants, a striped jersey top, and canvas sneakers. Trying to shrug off the unsettled feeling, she checked her phone. Her mom still hadn’t answered the text. Rick was still apparently flying somewhere.

There was a message from her friend Tess, though, inviting her over. The one bright spot in an otherwise completely crappy day.

She jumped into her little hybrid hatchback and drove toward Tess’s place. On the way, she stopped to grab a jar of honey from a roadside stand. Jamie Westfall, the owner, was a beekeeper who had moved to the area a few years back, alone and pregnant. She wasn’t alone anymore, though. She now had a little boy named Ollie.

As Natalie selected a pint jar with its SAVE THE BEES label and stuck five dollars in the honor box, Ollie came outside. “Hiya, Miss Natalie,” he said.

“Hi, yourself. What’s up?”

Elaborate shrug. He was bashful in the most adorable way. “S’posed to be reading to my mom for homework.”

“How’s that going for you?”

Another shrug. His mother came out on the porch, a wisp of a girl in overalls and an embroidered peasant top. “He’s a good reader, but he’s super picky. He did love the last one you gave us—One Family.”

“Oh good, I’m glad you liked it. Wish that book had been around when I was your age, Ollie. Our family was just me and my mom and my grandpa, and it would have made me happy to read about all the different kinds of families. Not just families that had a mom, dad, kids, dog.” She counted them off on her fingers.

He tugged at his lower lip. “I like reading about dogs.”

“I’ll bring you a new book next time. There’s a good one called Smells Like Dog. Did I ever tell you my mom has a bookstore? I used to work there, and it gave me a superpower—picking out just the right book for just the right kid.”

“How come you don’t work there anymore?” asked Ollie.