There was a hell of a lot of testosterone in the living room and Renee laughed. “I know, it’s stunning, isn’t it? Lorie, Liz and I are grateful for you to hopefully even out the estrogen levels around here. Now that Mercy, our oldest daughter, is off at school and Marianne, our youngest, has declared hanging out with family to be the worst thing for her social life ever, we’re outnumbered big time.”

They were all so normal. So happy and robust and filled with that connection you have to people who’ve seen you at your worst and love you despite that. Erin envied them their whole family but realized how lucky she was to have it with Adrian and Brody, despite losing their parents.

She looked at the pictures on the walls as they all swirled around, chattering, loading things into cars. She stopped at a photograph of who she figured would be Mercy or Marianne and her stomach cramped. Probably all of a year old, toddling, fat little knees, one tooth in her smile, drool on her chin.

Erin was transported to Adele’s first steps. They’d been visiting Maryland, where Jeremy’s parents lived. She saw her granny and wanted to be there, so she’d just walked right over. Erin had clapped, laughing and crying, and Adele simply took the cheers and clapping as her due for existing.

“That’s Mercy. My goodness, to look at her now you’d barely see this little sprout.” Lorie stood next to Erin and her smile turned to concern as she caught sight of Erin’s face. “Are you all right?”

Erin shook her head, trying to shake the empty spot searing through her chest. “I’m sorry. Sometimes it’s hard to look at baby pictures. She was a beautiful baby and Todd says she’s an amazing young woman now. You should be very proud.”

Lorie nodded. “We are. We’re lucky in our children and grand-children.” She paused a moment. “I hope you don’t mind, but Todd told us a bit. That you’d lost your baby girl. I’m deeply sorry. I hope the pictures didn’t upset you.”

She turned to Lorie Keenan and smiled through tears. “Thank you, Mrs. Keenan. But no, it’s beautiful to see these pictures. For a long time I couldn’t have pictures of Adele—that was her name—up in the house. I’d sneak into the drawers where I kept the snapshots and stare at her like a guilty secret. In the end, I gave in and put them up. I miss her but I can look at that perfect thing I had in my life for just two short years and I can be grateful.”

She’d taken the pictures down for a while right when Todd had come back to town, but after she’d told him about losing Adele, they’d put them all back and she’d started to go to therapy again.

Lorie cupped Erin’s cheek and smiled. “That’s good to hear. Something like that would be hard to get over. Anyway, please call me Lorie. I have a feeling we’ll be each other’s family from now on. My son seems to have set his cap for you.”

Erin blushed, relieved and touched.

“I’m the lucky one here. Your son is a keeper.”

Lorie laughed then. “He is now. But not so much before he moved back here. I think you’re a good influence.”

“Everything okay over here?” Todd slid an arm around Erin’s waist and looked into her eyes, noting the tears. His concern made her want to cry even more.

“Fine, fine. We were just talking about you.” His mother winked at him and he backed off, much to Erin’s relief. It was bad enough that they’d had to have a discussion about whether or not she’d be okay with the fireworks going off. She realized in the af termath of the incident at her café that he’d be worried. But she could look at baby pictures and she could sit under the open sky and watch fireworks. She wasn’t fragile. She was just a bit broken.

“Let’s go then. Dad’s already in the car.”

“Lord Amighty, he’ll start that blasted honking if we don’t move it. It’s a wonder the man hasn’t had a stroke. He’s the most impatient person I’ve ever met.” Lorie grabbed her sweater and turned back to Erin once they were on the porch. “Do you have a sweater? It’s hot as blazes now, but it’ll be cold on the water tonight. I can grab something for you if you’d like.”

“I’ve got long pants and a sweater too. Todd reminded me earlier today. But thank you.”

True to Lorie’s prediction, Dean hit the horn three times and she sighed. “Let’s go then.”

Todd kissed her, smiling, and she knew he was pleased they seemed to all like each other. Erin knew she was relieved herself, that was for damned sure.

On the boat, Todd watched her as she laughed with his other women—his mother, sister and Renee. She was right there among them. Her laugh fit with theirs, occupied the empty spot in the spectrum.

His brother Dean, or DJ as most everyone called him, sat next to him, handing over a soda. “I like her. More importantly, Mom likes her.”

Todd nodded, relieved his brother was right. If his mother hadn’t liked Erin, it would have made things very difficult. She hadn’t liked Sheila. It wasn’t that Sheila had been a bitch or anything. But she just never fit, which was hard for her because she was family oriented and wanted them to like her, and hard for his family because they were too. But Sheila had been pretty and fragile, and the Keenans were loud and boisterous, and there just wasn’t a place for Sheila in that. They hadn’t been mean to her; they’d made every effort to include her and make her comfortable, but it just hadn’t worked.