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I remembered finding Mom alone at the kitchen table one night, staring at a message on her phone. She had been smiling before she noticed me. Then she set it aside and asked whether I needed help with homework.

“I told her I didn’t want to be the reason she stayed alone,” I said. “I was a preteen, so the conversation wasn’t especially elegant. I threatened to move in with Grandma Ruth if Mom refused to date.”

Sloane smiled. “Did she believe you?”

“Grandma had a room prepared.”

“Of course she did.” Sloane smiled.

“Mom eventually agreed to attend a council dinner with friends. Julie was there.”

According to Mom, Julie had arrived in a pink dress, fresh from exile and unwilling to allow anyone to treat her as broken. Mom had spent the entire dinner pretending not to notice her while noticing nothing else.

“They took their time,” I continued. “Mom worried about how I’d feel, and Julie had her own reasons to be cautious. But they were good together from the beginning.”

“They seem good together.”

“They are. Julie eventually joined the pack, and then Byron came along, followed by Jason and Caldwell. I got more family because Dean left.”

Sloane looked toward me. “That’s a healthy way to see it.”

“It took years. I’m not claiming emotional excellence.”

Sloane nudged my shoulder and laughed. “I don’t think anyone would accuse you of emotional excellence.”

We continued up the gradual slope. The path widened near the top, opening into a clearing where the trees parted enough to reveal the sky. The community wasn’t visible from here. Only a faint strip of light marked the direction we’d come from.

I sat on a low section of the split-rail fence and opened the second carton of fries.

Sloane leaned against the post beside me. “You still have fries?”

“Patty doesn’t seem to understand appropriate portions.” I offered her a fry.

She took it. “I thought these were for your enhanced metabolism.”

“I can spare one.”

“Generous.” She ate it and reached for another.

I pulled the carton away. “A second fry wasn’t included in the agreement.”

She made another attempt. I lifted the carton over my shoulder, keeping it beyond her reach.

Sloane scooted closer and tried to grab it. “You have two cartons.”

“Correction,” I said. “I have one and a half.”

“You ate half the first one while describing your father’s indiscretions.”

“Emotional processing requires salt.”

“Give me another fry.”

“Ask politely.”

“Hudson, I respectfully request that you surrender one additional fragment of a potato.”

“Denied.”