She needed to get out of there.

She needed to find her head.

And she needed to figure just what exactly she’d gotten herself into. So she was acting like a coward, and retreating when things got rough. She was actually okay with that. As she turned the knob, she was stopped by the sound of a small voice. “Emory, wait.”

She turned and Grace appeared, breathless. “Are you coming over later? Mom said you might.”

Emory hesitated. She wasn’t in the best of moods, and maybe a night on her own would help her decompress a little. “I don’t think so, Grace. Maybe another night.”

Sarah appeared in the entryway and wrapped her arms around Grace from behind. “Please?” she chimed in. It was clear from her clouded expression that the events of the day had taken their toll on her as well. “We can eat raw cookie dough out of the tube.” Sarah’s eyes held hope.

Emory stared at them and felt her resolve crumble as it often did when she was sucked into their vortex. How could she resist such an odd and wonderful offer? “Well, only if there’s raw cookie dough,” she said quietly.

“There is!” Grace practically shouted.

“All right then, it’s a plan. I’m going to go for a run with Walter first. See you two later tonight.” And she was gone. Sarah stared at the door, wishing the day had turned out differently.

She decided a talk with her mother was in order.

An hour later, most of the guests had headed home and only a few of the more rowdy partygoers remained in the backyard drinking beer with Robert and her father. Sarah took the opportunity to steal some alone time with her mother as they cleared the remaining plates. “So, Mama,” she began as they loaded the dishwasher. “What do you think of Emory?”

“I think she’s wonderful, mija.” She smiled warmly at Sarah. “Very pretty and with a good head on her shoulders. She’s done a lot of nice things for you, and that makes me like her all the more. Did she say anything about Martin? I saw them flirting a bit at dinner.”

Sarah couldn’t prevent a sigh. “You know, I’m not sure he’s her type. But I really like spending time with her, and then there’s the fact that Grace simply adores her. I just wanted you and Papa—”

“Not those glasses, sweetie, we have to hand wash those. So James looked very handsome today, didn’t you think? He would be quite the catch for you, Sarah.” In response to Sarah’s eye roll, her voice moved into that cautionary mom tone Sarah knew so well. “You need to listen to me on this, Sarah. Sometimes a mother knows what’s best.”

“Sometimes, maybe. But I can tell you, Mama, that James is not for me. It’s just not going to work out.”

“But he’s so well spoken and funny too.”

“I know, but—”

“Nothing wooden in the dishwasher.” She took the wooden handled serving spoon from Sarah’s hands and started to wash it. “Once the newness wears off, it’s important that you and your husband have something in common, something to talk about.”

“Is that the case with you and Papa?”

“Oh yes,” she answered quickly. “And we still have a lot of fun. That’s what I want for you.” She turned to Sarah earnestly. “I want you to find that important someone to share your life with. You’ve been on your own too long, mija.”

“That’s what I want too, Mama, and I believe now that it’s possible. I want what you and Papa have, I do. You just have to trust me.”

Her mother nodded as she dried. “I can do that. Just don’t give up on James so quickly, and give me those little plates. They always flop around in the machine.” Sarah handed over the plate she was holding and wondered why they had the damn appliance in the first place.

*

“I can’t do it like you.” Grace sighed. “My hand won’t stay steady.”

“Yeah, you can. Keep your eye just a little bit ahead of your pencil.” Emory pointed to the white space in front of the point and laid out the path while snagging a bite of cookie dough from the nearby tube. “There. That’s more like it. See how nice that edge looks? You’re a natural.”

Grace looked up from the page in wonder. “I did it, Mom. I finished the outline of the vase. Look!”

Sarah had to admit, it wasn’t bad. It looked quite like a vase would. It was a nice vase, as far as vases went. “I’m impressed, Graciela. I think you’re my favorite child.”

Grace giggled. “I’m your only child.”

“Details.” Sarah stood behind Emory’s chair and placed her hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently. “Have you ever thought of offering lessons?”

“For spare cash?”

“Would you turn around so I can roll my eyes?” Sarah swatted her playfully. “No, smart aleck, for the intrinsic value. For art. You’re a very patient teacher, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but when you draw, you become completely entranced in what you’re doing. It gets you going.”

Emory exhaled, conceding. “It always has.”

“Then you should do it more. Create something original.”

“Yeah,” Grace said. “If you like something, you should stick with it.”

“Thanks for the sage advice, short person.” Emory ruffled Grace’s curls in jest and began to put away the pencils, clearly ready to move on from the subject.

But Grace wasn’t finished and moved until she stood directly in front of Emory. “Will you paint something for me? Please? It can be anything.”

Emory didn’t know what to say. Grace looked so full of hope, and damn it, utterly adorable with those big brown eyes looking up at her.

But she couldn’t.

She hadn’t painted anything in years and it somehow felt like opening up a can of worms she’d rather not get into. She’d made decisions for her life and it was too late now to turn back. “I’m not sure I can do that, Grace. I’m sorry.”

“Why not? If you’re good at it and you like it—”

“Grace, Emory gave you an answer and she’s a grown-up.” There was the mom voice.

Grace closed her mouth and nodded obediently. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, it’s already thirty minutes past your bedtime. Why don’t you go get dressed for bed? I’ll be right behind you to tuck you in.”

“All right, I’m exhausted anyway. Good night, Emory. Thanks for drawing with me.”

“Anytime, kiddo.”

Grace moved to Emory with arms outstretched, prompting her to lean down to accept the hug fully. She held Grace in her arms, smiled at the kiss that was placed on her cheek, and watched as she scampered away to her bedroom. Emory was beginning to think she might be the sweetest kid ever.

“Be right back,” Sarah said, scratching Emory’s stomach as she passed.

It was fifteen minutes later when Sarah reappeared, and Emory tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn. It had been a long day, but she was anything but ready to say good night. She had to admit, there was something to be said for Sarah’s worn in, comfy couch.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?” Sarah stood in front of the couch with her hands on her hips.

“What? You’re forgetting who you’re talking to. I pull all-nighters on a weekly basis. I don’t require sleep to live like the rest of you mortals.”

“Is that right? Did you work today?”

“A little this morning, and then before my run…and some after the run.”

“I see.” She sat next to Emory and tugged her arm, urging her to lie with her head in Sarah’s lap. “Question. Do you ever take the day off?”

“Answer. Once in a while, but there’s a lot on my plate.” Sarah played softly with Emory’s hair, moving her fingers between the thick strands and letting them drop.

“Mmm. That feels nice. Never stop doing this.”

“Do you like what you do?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“But does it excite you? Do you wake up in the morning thrilled to get to work?”

“Um, not exactly. But I don’t mind it either. It’s just what I do.”

“Don’t freak out at this question, but what if you had a family one day? You know, people who were waiting for you to come home for dinner at a reasonable hour, or you know, attend their Little League game?”