Her smile dimmed. “I’m just visiting for a couple of nights.” His comments worried her. Mom was good at keeping a cheerful front, even in the worst situations. The fact that Dad (loving and easygoing but, well, kind of oblivious) had clued into the depths of her unhappiness didn’t bode well. Mom clearly wasn’t on her game. Apparently, she hadn’t told Dad she wanted Maggie to move back home, either. But why? “Everything’s fine with Wren,” she added belatedly. Not really, but hey—she was her mother’s daughter. Everything’s fine. Absolutely fine. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

“Your aunt”—he shook his head—“is a contentious woman. So different from your mother.” He smiled at her friends standing behind her. “Who do we have here?”

Maggie made the introductions, then called into the house, “Mom?”

Dad crouched to pet Caleb’s dog. “She’s not home yet, honey. It’s Monday night.”

“Oh. I forgot.” To her friends, she explained: “Book club night at the library.” She’d have to find a chance to talk to Mom alone when she got back. And find a way to talk to Jane Cannon tomorrow. Apprehension fluttered in Maggie’s stomach. Neither discussion was going to be easy.

“She’ll be back a little after nine. Come on in, and I’ll get us some drinks.” After delivering a parting rub to the dog’s side, Dad straightened and waved everyone into the house. “You can only stay a couple of nights?” he asked wistfully.

“Yeah.” Maggie toed off her shoes and breathed in the familiar scent of her home, something like cookies and pine.

Linnie wandered around the foyer, hands folded under her chin. Her gaze lingered on the family photos decorating the staircase wall.

Caleb hung back. “If that’s okay with you, Mr. Arioli. I’ve got Fluffster here…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Maggie said. “Dad loves dogs. We always had one when I was growing up.”

“Remember how Sandy used to run with me in the morning? Our old golden,” he said to Caleb. “Miss that guy. I wish Min would let me get another one. She’s not on board with the idea—says dogs tie you down.”

“That’s true enough,” Caleb said. Hands stuffed in his pockets, cheeks ruddy, he walked with Maggie and Linnie into the living room but then went to stand in a corner.

Maggie frowned at him. He looked so uncomfortable. She hadn’t thought Caleb had it in him to be uncomfortable.

Linnie settled on the edge of the wingback chair and grinned at Caleb.

Maggie wandered to the stack of books on the side table and put down her cup. What author was Mom in love with now?

“Have a seat,” her father said. As Caleb sidled along the wall toward the couch, Dad continued, “Pepsi sound good? Cider? Ginger ale? Iced tea?”