Natalie shook her head as she replaced the handset. Terry always insisted on speaking to Milt and the two of them would play phone chasey for days. If only he trusted the woman of the house with a simple message it would save a lot of trouble. She wrote a note on the whiteboard on the wall beside the desk and busied herself putting away the groceries, turning her thoughts to what she might cook. Laura hadn’t been home for such a long time. Natalie wanted to make some of her favourites.

Part way through wiping down the bench she paused. Laura had said see you Thursday. That was a day earlier than usual. She had a full-time job at a city hairdresser. Her long hours earned her the odd Friday afternoon and weekend off. The wavering note in Laura’s voice replayed in her head but she pushed it away. If there was something wrong Natalie would find out all about it on Thursday. She fed the cat and stacked the small pile of mail, all envelopes with windows, between the vase and Milt’s list. Then, with a cup of tea in hand, she settled at the kitchen table, her basket on the floor and the stack of exercise books in a pile beside her.

The table was a big one and yet they’d filled it. She glanced around, picturing her three girls sitting at the solid pine top doing their homework or playing cards, talking about their day, squabbling and laughing; Milt’s mum, Olive, presiding over them as if she was mistress of the manor, while Natalie cooked dinner for them all and her father-in-law, Clem, with his slow nod and twinkling smile sat at the head of the table taking it all in.

Dear Clem. Perhaps that was why she was feeling a little melancholy. She’d realised when she’d looked at the calendar this morning that a year had gone by since he’d died. They’d had a special bond, not father and daughter but very good friends. She wondered if Milt remembered the date. Neither of them had said anything.