“And what about you?”

“Me?” She grinned. “I was a typical oldest child, I think. A bossy perfectionist. But also vain and boy-crazy as a teenager. I cared a lot about my hair and my eyeliner.”

I laughed. “At least you’re honest.”

She talked about her children too—how happy they were at their new school, the clubs they were joining (Keaton joined a science club, Whitney the ski club), the new friends they’d made. I hadn’t seen them since New Year’s Eve, but I knew Keaton had joined a youth boxing class at my gym because I saw his photo with a group of kids on the wall. It made me smile. I hoped he loved it like he thought he would.

“The kids had their first appointments with the new therapist last night,” she said one Thursday morning in mid-January. “And they loved her. I think she’s going to be really good for them.”

“That’s awesome,” I said, happy to see the genuine relief in her eyes.

I missed her like crazy when she took the kids skiing, but it was even worse when she flew back to California at the end of the month to pack up her old house.

She called me the third night she was there. It was so late I was already in bed, but I picked up right away when I saw it was her. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

I smiled and settled back against my pillow. “This is a nice surprise.”

“I’m sorry it’s so late. Did I wake you?”

“No, I was up,” I said aloud. Longing for you to be next to me in this bed again, I added in my head. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going okay. There’s a lot to do, and my ex is being a total dick, of course.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Nothing to help out, that’s for sure. I decided anything he doesn’t come to claim by tomorrow, I’m having hauled off to the Salvation Army along with my wedding dress, our good china, and his grandmother’s silver. Let him go try to find it and buy it back.”

God, I’d have loved to see that. “Atta girl.”

“The kids are flying out with my mom to pack up their rooms this weekend.”

“They doing okay?”

“I think so. They’re looking forward to seeing their dad, which has me worried he’s going to disappoint them.”

“Maybe he’ll step up for once.” I didn’t believe that for a second.

“Maybe.” Her tone said she didn’t either.

“But either way, you can’t control him, Sylvia.”

“I know. And I don’t have to make excuses for him either. I’m so over that.” She took a breath. “So how are you? How are my baby buds doing without me?”

I laughed. “They miss you. When do you come home?”