I thought about the night before on the dock. I thought about that horrible day in the car on the way home from the doctor’s office when all I wanted to do was make it better for Amelia.

“I think about it, Mom. I really do. But then there’s Greer, and I loved her so much that I worry I might not ever be able to move on. If I try and fail, I’ve lost Amelia forever. We will always be in each other’s lives because of you and Elizabeth.”

Mom nodded. “It’s a big step to put yourself out there like that, to say something that huge that you can never take back. I’m not saying that you should. I can’t make that decision for you, darling. But I can tell you that I hope with all my heart that you don’t let what you lost keep you from what you could have. I don’t mean just with Amelia. Life is short. Love is precious, and it makes living so worthwhile.”

“What if Greer is looking down on me, and knowing that I’ve moved on breaks her heart?”

She looked out over the water and said, “You know, sweetheart, Greer made me promise that, when she was gone, I would take care of everything. So I did. I took care of her funeral plans and accepting the casseroles and writing the thank-you notes and getting the death certificate and dealing with the estate. I made good on my promise—except for one thing.” She paused and looked at me. “I haven’t taken care of you, though God himself knows how hard I’ve tried.”

“Mom—” I interrupted. I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t her responsibility, I had to take care of myself. But if she heard me interject, she didn’t let on.

“Greer gave me something for you. It has sat for three years between the sock that holds my mother’s pearls and the sock that holds my grandmother’s earrings. All of my most important things are, as it turns out, stored in that humblest of drawers.” She turned to me, and my mouth went dry. “Greer had said I would know when it was time. And I do. I finally have to take care of the one remnant of Greer’s life that matters most.”

She handed me the envelope she’d been holding and, when she turned it over, I saw it. My name. In the scrawling cursive that only belonged to one beautiful woman.

Mom kissed my cheek, and then she was gone. I put my finger to the sharp corner of the thick paper envelope. I flipped it over to reveal Greer’s engraved return address. Our return address. The letter was written on our wedding thank-you cards, the ones that I had spent two hours at the stationer’s over, while Greer and her aunt hemmed and hawed. They had landed on simple ecru stationery engraved in gold. I knew when I opened it I would find Greer and Parker Thaysden at the top of the card. It was the simplest thing, yet a million decisions, conscious and unconscious, had gone into it—kind of like love.