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Missy blinked.

I stepped in quickly. “They’re family friends.” I took the diaper bag from her. “You made it.”

“You invited us.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t sure you’d actually come.” I pulled her into a hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“I wasn’t sure if that invitation came from guilt.” Her words held no accusation. Only caution.

I looked at her. “It didn’t.”

Missy nodded. “Good.”

Our reconciliation hadn’t fixed years of distance in one conversation. It had begun something, though. We met for coffee. She told me about motherhood, marriage, and how lonely both could become when everyone assumed a person with a family never needed companionship.

I told her about work. About Hudson. About the part of my life that remained carefully edited because I still couldn’t reveal the truth.

She knew Hudson’s family was unusual. She did not know exactly how unusual.

“I wanted you here,” I said. “Not because I’m trying to prove I’ve changed. I want us to know each other again.”

Missy’s face softened. “I want that too.”

Owen made an indignant sound from the carrier.

Daniel looked down. “You were not included in that conversation, little man.”

The baby grabbed his chin.

“He disagrees,” I said.

Missy touched my arm. “Thank you for inviting us.”

Before I could respond, Grandma Ruth appeared. Her eyes locked on Owen. Missy took a small step backward.

“Who is this?” Grandma asked.

“Grandma Ruth, this is my cousin Missy, her husband, Daniel, and baby Owen.”

Grandma reached for the baby immediately. Daniel looked toward me.

I nodded. “Resisting will only delay the outcome.”

He carefully removed Owen from the carrier and passed him over. Grandma took the baby with ease.

Owen stared at her.

She stared back. “You are far too thin, little boy.”

“He weighs twenty pounds,” Missy said.

Grandma considered this for a moment, carefully examining Owen’s face. “He needs pie.”

Daniel raised a finger in the air. “I’m sorry, he can’t have pie.”

“We’ll see.”

Missy looked at me again. “I like her.”