Cara shook her head. “I can’t do that. It’s Linnea’s house now. And I trust her judgment. Julia, the hardest part of getting older is allowing our young to make their own decisions. Even mistakes.”

“But Linnea’s reputation…”

“You have no worries there. She’s rock solid. My hat’s off to you for raising such a principled young woman.” Cara looked at her hands. Sand still clung to her nails. “She’s going through a tough time now.”

“You mean being laid off?”

“Yes. Partly.”

“Oh yes—Gordon coming back. And John being here. I know.”

“Honestly? I believe they both are just distractions right now from the real question she’s wrestling.” She saw worry crinkle Julia’s brow and was quick to reassure her. “It’s the existential question we all struggled with when we were young. Perhaps we still do, to a lesser degree. She’s asking who she is and what she wants out of life.”

Dawning washed over Julia’s features. “Cooper too.”

“All of them. Being young is great, but there are hurdles to get over. Makes being old feel pretty good.”

Julia’s shoulders lowered as she smiled. “Someone once asked me if I could go back and be young again, would I do it. I said only if I could take what I knew now with me.”

Cara thought about the ups and downs of her life. “Girlfriend, me too. No way I’d go back and do it all again. I’m happy right where I am.”

Julia sighed and said in a singsong voice, “What’s a mother to do?”

“Try to relax. They’re both young. You’ve got a long way to go.”

“Look who’s talking,” Julia said with a laugh. “Hope is only six!”

“God help us.”

Julia bent to retrieve her cup. “Thanks for listening.”

“Feel better?”

She scrunched her lips and shook her head. “Not really. But calmer. I swanny, I hope I survive to see those two children of mine married and settled.”

Cara brought her cup to her lips to swallow any more words she might be tempted to say.

chapter twelve

One of the most beautiful surprises coming out of the pandemic was how a lot of creative people were finding new and unique ways to use their energies and imagination.

OUTSIDE THE WEATHER was dreary, all overcast gray skies that didn’t show any signs of clearing. Inside, it was just as dreary. The pod, as Linnea now called the group, was hanging out in the living room, slouched on chairs and sofas, drinking wine or beer or their alcohol of choice. She couldn’t count the number of wine bottles in the recycling bin these days. She would have been embarrassed to put the bin at the curb except that everyone else’s bin was full of wine bottles too.

The ever-present television was on, something she abhorred. Gordon and Cooper were watching some sporting event that was not even in real time. Anna and Pandora were reading, Anna with a real paper-and-spine book, Pandora listening to an audiobook.