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own way.”
    â€œYou will, Mom. You have your savings and you’ll have the proceeds from selling the house.” He bent down and squeezed my hand. “The important thing, Mom, is that you’ll be near me. I’ll get to drop by your apartment all the time.”
    Apartment? “An apartment won’t have much space. Where will I . . .”
    I’d been about to say “develop my photos,” but then I remembered that I quit doing that a few years ago. Everything was digital now.
    Digital. Used to mean you did it by hand—with your fingers, to be exact. Now digital just meant a machine did it for you. Which was easier and maybe even more precise, but something was lost in the process. I’d quit taking photos when that became the thing everyone wanted.
    Eddie’s brow wrinkled. “Where will you what?”
    I patted the back of his hand. “Never mind, dear—just havinga senior moment. I seem to be living one long senior moment these days.”
    Eddie turned his hand to take my palm. “You had a hard blow to the head, Mom, but it’s all going to be okay, and you don’t have to worry. While you’re here, you’re going to have round-the-clock home health care. And when you get to California, we’ll take good care of you.” The way he looked at me made my finger press down, wanting to capture the moment. His eyes glowed with that caring, worried, earnest, eager-to-please puppy dog look that was quintessential Eddie. He’d had that expression when he was four, and he still had it fifty years later. He used to look at Charlie like that, wanting, so badly, his approval.
    Charlie thought that praising a child too much made him weak, that Eddie needed toughening up, that I’d spoiled him into sissy-hood. His parents had done that to him, I knew, but still, a surge of anger shot through me. He’d been wrong—so very, very wrong.
    â€œMom? Are you all right?”
    I realized I’d closed my eyes. I opened them to see Eddie squatting beside my chair. I blinked. I saw three of him, and then two.
    â€œYes, yes, I’m fine.”
    â€œAnd you’re okay with me leaving now and coming back in June to help you move?”
    I don’t have much choice, do I?
I didn’t say it, of course; he was doing the best he could. He was a dentist with an established practice. He couldn’t just up and leave it and move out here. Even if he could, I wouldn’t ask that of him.
    And, truth be told, I was ready for a change. The thought of a move, a whole new life, was exciting. I was ready. I’d always wanted to live on the coast. And yet . . .
    I flashed him a smile. “I’m fine with it, honey.”
    â€œI’ll call every day, and with Hope here, we can Skype each other.”
    I had no idea what that meant, but I nodded all the same.
    His brow furrowed. “Are you sure you don’t want to come now?We could catch a later flight. I could pack up a few of your things, and you can just let Hope deal with the house on her own.”
    â€œOh, no, Eddie.” A memory formed in my mind, a long-ago memory from when I was a girl. I’d wanted to play outside, but Mother had insisted that I resew a button I’d just sewn in the wrong place on my sweater. “Finish what you start,” she’d said. I could see her clearly, so clearly, as if she were standing beside me right now. “Always clean up your messes before moving on to the next thing.”
    I blew out a long sigh. Maybe Mother had arranged all this.
    â€œWhat?”
    I opened my eyes at Eddie’s voice to see him peering at me, his brow still knitted. I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes or spoken aloud. “Oh, nothing,” I said, feeling sheepish. “I was just remembering something Mother told me about seeing things through.”
    Robert—or was it Richard? I knew his name started with