And so back to the freezer they went. My ladybug, flower, clover, and bear. And I know that Parker will make the best decision he possibly can, that he will weigh all the information and do what he thinks is best, like he always does.

God, I love that man. I love our babies. I love the life we have together. And what I wouldn’t give for just a little more time.

Parker GOOD GRACES

I COULDN’T MOVE, COULDN’T BREATHE. I just sat there, shaking a little, in the front seat of my rental car, in the grass lot outside the Saxtons’ house, Greer’s journal on my lap, tears pouring down my face like they hadn’t since her funeral. For a few minutes, Greer had been here in this car. Her soothing voice had been in my ear, telling me a secret. I didn’t know those cells had become such a part of her.

My chest was in physical pain, like my heart was being torn in two. It was a feeling I was used to, one I’d had often when I was watching my beautiful wife endure treatments, when I held her hand while she was in the kind of pain people dread.

This wasn’t the first time I had let a journal help me decide. I was clutching it tightly, like I was clinging to her. Greer would have known what to do. Greer would have been sure. Most of the time, like that Bible test, I could interpret Greer’s words however I wanted to. But this entry was pretty cut-and-dried. She was damn attached to those embryos. I couldn’t see just handing them over for scientific research or throwing them out with the hypodermic needles.

Was being in Cape Carolina exacerbating this feeling somehow? Here, there was no doubt, I had always known I would grow up to be a husband and a father. Once I got back to Palm Beach, would everything feel different?

I was certain that my mother had already heard somehow that I was back and was wondering and worrying why I hadn’t made it home yet. Hell, she’d probably seen the rental car in the Saxtons’ driveway next door and intuited it was me in that Southern mother way of hers.

I almost didn’t want to go home now, but what was my option? I could check into the Holiday Inn on the highway, get back on a plane—maybe to Tahiti?—or sneak into one of the four empty bedrooms at Amelia’s house. That house had gone downhill since the last time I’d seen it. It wasn’t terrible, but it needed a few things fixed, paint in some places. No doubt about it: Dogwood was a lot of house, probably bordered on being a burden. I decided to grab the guys and do some maintenance around there the next day. Mr. Saxton had his hands full with the farm. Looking around at the paltry grass, I respected him even more. It took a Herculean effort to create viable growing conditions here, especially to run the size of operation that he did. Dad was always saying Mr. Saxton should sell. But I understood needing to hold on to the past.