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Lauren swallowed hard, wondering if her mother had had enough for one day, but she’d been dying to ask for over a month. “Can I have Dad’s ties?”

Emma spun, her eyes wide. “Why would you want them?”

“One of my waiters, Ricky, when his dad retired, his mom made the ties into a quilt. I liked it.”

Emma stared down at the emerald and blue satin brocade still clutched in her arms. She rocked back and forth on her heels and closed her eyes.

“It’s okay if you’re still not ready.” Lauren stepped forward, placing a hand on her mother’s arm. Despair and loss quivered through her, reminding Lauren again why she needed to be more than the perfect professional’s wife, why she needed to know without a doubt she could stand on her own two feet.

“No, we should. I like the idea of still having their things, in a different way. Maybe we could do something with all those t-shirts Collin likes to wear. I mean, liked.” She nodded slowly, swallowing hard as she looked into her daughter’s eyes.

“I’ll call her and arrange a time to meet with her. She loves to quilt.”

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