The air had chilled slightly, and Adrienne had lit a few candles around the kitchen to warm and light the space. Sitting at the table, she had put Mark’s letter back in the box with the note and the photograph. Amanda watched her soberly, her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said quietly. “For everything. For losing Paul, for having to live through that alone. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to keep all of that in-side.”

“Neither can I,” Adrienne said. “There’s no way I could have made it without help.”

Amanda shook her head. “But you did,” she whispered.

“No,” Adrienne said. “I survived, but I didn’t do it alone.”

Amanda looked puzzled. Adrienne offered her a melan-choly smile.

“Grampa,” she finally said. “My daddy. That’s who I

cried with. And I cried with him every day for weeks. Without him, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“But.. .“ Amanda trailed off, and Adrienne went on for her.

“But he couldn’t say anything?” Adrienne paused. “He didn’t have to, He listened, and that was what I needed. Besides, I knew there wasn’t anything he could have said that would have made the pain go away, even if he could speak.” She lifted her gaze. “You know that as well as I do.”

Amanda pressed her lips together. “I wish you’d told me,” she said. “Before now, I mean.”

“Because of Brent?”

Amanda nodded.

“I know you do, but you weren’t ready to hear it until now. You needed time to work through your grief in your own way, on your own terms.”

For a long moment, Amanda said nothing.

“It isn’t fair. You and Paul, me and Brent,” she whis-pered.

“No, it isn’t.”

“How were you able to go on after losing him like that?” Adrienne smiled wistfully. “I took things one day at a time. Isn’t that what they tell you to do? I know it sounds trite, but I used to wake up in the mornings and tell my-self that I only had to be strong for one day. Just one day. I did that over and over.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Amanda whispered.

“It wasn’t. It was the hardest time I ever went through.”

“Even more than when Daddy left?”

“That was hard, too, but this was different.” Adrienne

flashed a quick smile. “You were the one who told me that, remember ?“

Amanda looked away. Yes, she thought, I do. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet him.”

“You would have liked him. In time, I mean. Back then, you might not have. You were still hoping that your dad and I would get back together.”

Amanda’s hand went reflexively to the wedding band she still wore, and she twisted it around her finger, her face a mask.

“You’ve lost a lot in your life.”

“Yes, I have.”

“But you seem so happy now.”

“I am.”

“How can you be?”

Adrienne brought her hands together. “When I think of losing Paul or the years that might have been, of course it makes me sad. It did then, and it still does now. But you have to understand something else, too: As hard as it was, as terrible and unfair as the way things turned out, I wouldn’t have traded the few days I spent with him for any-thing.”

She paused, making sure her daughter understood that. “In Mark’s letter, he said that I saved Paul from himself. But if Mark had asked me, I would have said that we’d saved each other, or that he’d saved me. Had I never met him, I doubt I ever would have forgiven Jack, and I wouldn’t have been the mother or grandmother I am now. Because of him, I came back to Rocky Mount knowing that I was going to be okay, that things would work out, that no

matter what, I’d make it. And the year we spent writing each other gave me the strength I needed when I finally learned what had happened to him. Yes, I was devastated by losing him, but if somehow I could go back in time— this time knowing what would happen in advance—I still would have wanted him to go because of his son. He needed to make things right with Mark. His son needed him—had always needed him. And it wasn’t too late.”

Amanda looked away, knowing she was talking about Max and Greg as well.

“That’s why I told you this story from the beginning,” Adrienne went on. “Not just because I’d been through what you’re living through now, but because I wanted you to understand how important his relationship with his son was. And what it meant for Mark to know that. Those are wounds that are difficult to heal, and I don’t want you to have any more wounds than you already have now.”

Adrienne reached across the table and took her daugh-ter’s hand, “I know you’re still hurting about Brent, and there’s nothing I can do to help you with that. But if Brent were here, he would tell you to concentrate on your kids, not on his death. He would want you to remember the good moments, not the bad ones. And above all, he would want to know that you’re going to be okay, too.”

“I know all that—”

Adrienne cut her off with a gentle squeeze, not letting her finish. “You’re stronger than you think you are,” she went on, “but only if you want to be.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Of course it isn’t, but you have to understand that I’m

not talking about your emotions. Those you can’t control. You’re still going to cry, you’re still going to have moments when you don’t feel you can go on. But you have to act as if you can. At a time like this, actions are just about the only things you can control.” She paused. “Your children need you, Amanda. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when they needed you more. But lately, you haven’t been there for them. I know you’re hurting, and I hurt for you, but you’re a mom now, and you can’t keep going like this. Brent wouldn’t have wanted it, and your children are pay-ing the price.”

As Adrienne finished, Amanda seemed to be studying the table. But then, almost as if moving in slow motion, she raised her head and looked up.

............