“She’s trying to work it out. She’s got three kids of her own, you know. Everyone else has jobs they can’t leave.”

Can’t or won’t? Maureen wondered.

“I’ll see you on Tuesday,” Cherie said. “Just to make sure everything is working out. Call me if you need anything before then.”

Everyone hugged goodbye. A minute later Maureen and Cherie went down the flight of stairs and left the building. Night hadn’t quite fallen on the cool, breezy June day, a time of year Maureen loved, contrary to winter, when it was dark so early, making her bus ride home from work seem twice as long.

“I can’t believe no one from Bonnie’s family has come,” Maureen said as they walked to her car. “Or Jeremy’s for that matter. Why isn’t anyone helping?”

“My guess? Bonnie’s downplayed the seriousness of her condition.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous. Maybe I can sneak around a bit, find a phone number or two and give someone a nudge.”

“You’re getting attached,” her aunt said with a smile as Maureen pulled away from the curb, agitated.

Maureen smiled back. “Guilty. I can’t imagine being restricted like she is. I’m glad you found out about her. Glad we can help.”

“Me, too.”

Maureen admired her aunt more than anyone on earth. At seventy most people had slowed down a little. Cherie seemed to get busier. Retired from a forty-five-year career as a nurse, she now volunteered at a free clinic three mornings a week; delivered Mobile Meals three afternoons a week, a service she started herself five years ago when she retired, and worked at a soup kitchen on Sundays. She swam twice a week and walked almost everywhere. A petite five-two, she dressed in comfortable, trendy clothes and kept her hair colored and highlighted. She’d never married, but men doted on her. Most people did, actually. She sparkled like the silver peace symbol she always wore on a chain around her neck.

“Are you going to catch up with the Rowdies?” Cherie asked. “Seems like there’s enough time.”

“I’m tempted just to take a shower, slip into something comfortable and watch TV. It’s been a long day. But…” Every Saturday Maureen acted as Cherie’s driver to deliver meals to homebound people, starting at noon to pick up the prepacked meals from whichever restaurant was donating that particular day, until whatever time Maureen and Cherie finished delivering the meals and chatting with the recipients, who often didn’t have other company.

“But?” Cherie prompted.

“But I hate to miss seeing the Rowdies. Kicking up my heels.”

“How does Ted feel about your girls’ night out?”

“He’d rather I spend the time with him, of course. I don’t let it bother me.” Much. Maureen turned onto Cherie’s street and double-parked in front of her house.

Cherie patted Maureen’s cheek. “Thanks so much for going the extra mile for Bonnie.”

She hugged her aunt, the woman who’d been most responsible for raising Maureen since her mother died when Maureen was five. “It’s fun watching Morgan, especially since she’s so close in age to Riley.”

“I know it makes you miss him more, too.”

Maureen nodded and said good-night. Yes, she missed her grandson, and her daughter, too, who lived in Seattle. Maureen led a full, busy life. She had a job she loved, was even up for promotion to vice president of operations. She had a boyfriend, her first long-term, steady boyfriend in years and years. She had her Saturday work with Cherie for Mobile Meals, which satisfied a deep need to nurture. But it wasn’t the same as being with the people she loved most in the world.

Maureen’s house was only a few blocks from Cherie’s in the same Bernal Heights area of San Francisco. She parked her car in the garage she rented a few doors down from her own garageless house, then walked home.

Maybe she should invite Bonnie and Morgan to move in with her until the baby came. She had a guest room. And toys not being used by anyone….

The wrought-iron gate at the bottom of her stairway creaked when she opened it. The climb to her sweet little house seemed steeper than usual. Sometime soon she was going to find time for an exercise routine beyond her once-a-day ascent up one single flight….

Uh-huh. Sure. What other fantasies do you entertain?

“That Social Security will be viable when I retire,” she muttered aloud. “That chocolate is a food group. That knights in shining armor exist.”

Maureen fit her key into her front door and found it already unlocked. She froze. Had she locked it that morning? Of course she had. She never forgot to lock her door.

She turned the handle gingerly and eased open the door, then crept down the hallway to the living room, hearing voices. Heart hammering, she peeked around the corner and spotted her daughter and grandson watching television.