Copper Lake Confidential. Marilyn Pappano

to the birds in the trees, no one would be inconvenienced.

      If she wanted to delay reaching the house and going inside as long as she could, no one would know.

      The two males stood at the top of the steps as she made her way to the sidewalk, across the lawn and out the gate. She turned back for a smile and a wave, then headed south.

      Her pace was steady, not the slow-and-go method Clary preferred. Her daughter could skip energetically for an entire block, then stop to examine everything from a crack in the sidewalk to a fallen leaf to an ant crawling over a blade of grass. Just the thought of her, squatting precariously to study some new discovery like a dandelion or a pinecone with such intensity, made Macy’s heart ache with equal intensity. Today was Wednesday. Clary, Brent and Anne would be here in time for dinner Friday. Only two and a half more days and she’d have her little girl at her side.

      Only two and a half more days alone in the house looming ahead. She could already feel its weight—its memories of Mark—settling on her shoulders. Her steps were already slowing. But following the advice from all those months of treatment, she forced herself to keep moving, one step at a time.