“Did I tell you Mom and Dad want to move to Manningsport?”

“Nice try at changing the subject. Does any of what I say ring true?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Emmaline blew her nose and had another slug of martini. “The thing is, Ange, I walked right into this. I knew he was kind of messed up, and I knew I’m not really his type, but I fell for him anyway.”

“Of course you did. He’s wonderful.”

Another hot line of tears streaked down her face. “He made me stutter,” she whispered. “When he got mad at me the other day, I stuttered in front of everyone.”

“And did the world stop spinning? Did you get fired? Did everyone throw trash at you?”

Em rolled her eyes. They may have gotten stuck, but her face was rather numb—Angela made a mean martini—so she wasn’t sure. “No, smart-ass.” Another sip. “But it’s a sign of weakness just the same.”

“It’s a sign that you care very much about how he feels, especially in regard to you. That’s not weakness. That’s being human.”

Sarge put his cute little nose on her knee. Her baby dog was getting enormous. She gave him a bite of drumstick in exchange for the drool-covered Squeaky Chicken.

“Okay, enough lecturing,” Angela announced. “Let’s watch Titanic. I have a terrible crush on Kate Winslet.”

They put the movie on, and just as Jack first saw Rose on the rich-people deck, Emmaline said, “Angela?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I’m so glad my parents adopted you.”

Then it was Angela’s turn to cry.

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING, there was a cheerful note from Angela on the kitchen table saying she’d be at Cornell for two nights to do some intensive research, but if Em needed her to come home, she would come as fast as a bumblebee, or if Em wanted to come to Ithaca, that would be lovely, too.

Angela. She really was flawless. Except she was a horrible slob in the bathroom and something of a flirt, from what Em had seen.

It would actually be nice to be alone for a night or two. Angela’s insight and brilliance made it a little hard for Em to know what to think.

She had the day off, and the sun was shining. Last night’s snow squall had melted, and it might even hit forty-five today, according to the notoriously unreliable forecasters.

“Do you want to go for a run?” she asked Sarge, smiling as the dog immediately grabbed his hideous chicken and ran to the door. She got changed, tucked her phone into her running shorts pocket, leashed up Wonder Pup and set out. People called to her and waved, and a few folks in the Village stopped to admire Squeaky Chicken and pet the dog.

The air smelled like spring. Sure, there’d be the heartbreak storm in April, there always was, but for now, it was warm (for New York) and soft and smelled earthy, the sharp scent of shale cutting through. She ran out of town, settling into a pace, Sarge easily keeping up beside her. Past the blue-and-purple Victorian where the nice Murphy family lived, crocuses peeking up from their lawn, past the old school that was possibly being turned into a community center. Shelayne Schanta was in her yard on Buttermilk Road, scooping soggy leaves from a flower bed. “Any news on the adoption front?” Emmaline asked, stopping.

“Just passed the home visitation,” Shelayne said, beaming.

“Fantastic! If you need a character reference, let me know, okay? Since I’m an upstanding citizen and officer of the law.”

She continued running, her legs strong and sure, despite it being a few weeks since her last outing. Nice mindless running.

Kept her mind off Jack.

She might not be his girlfriend anymore, but she was still worried about him. Even if he was a lost cause.

When she got to Meering Falls, she stopped, breathing hard. Sarge dropped Squeaky long enough to drink from the heavy stream of water.

She loved it here. Not just here at the base of the beautiful gorge, carved out by water and time, but here in Manningsport. In New York. The perfect weather and excessive wealth of Malibu had never felt right, and she said a silent prayer of thanks to Nana for taking her in, a heartsick fourteen-year-old who could barely get a sentence out.

Her phone rang, startling her. Given that she was a cop, you’d think that the phone wouldn’t scare her half to death, but such was not the case. Great. Mom again. She briefly considered letting it go to voice mail, but after the incident with Jack’s phone, she was a little wary of doing that. “Hi,” she said.

“I know you think we love Angela more,” Mom started, her voice prim, indicating hurt feelings.

Em closed her eyes and sighed.

“It’s just that I never knew how to fix you. I hated seeing you struggle, and I couldn’t help you, and if there was ever a worse feeling in the world than failing your only child, I don’t know what it is, Emmaline. Please cut me some slack. I did my best, and I’m well aware it wasn’t good enough.”

“Mom, you didn’t fail me. You replaced me.”

“That’s not true.”

“You were more than happy to ditch me on Nana, and then four months later, you have a new and improved daughter. How is that not replacing me?”

“You’re the one who wanted to live with my mother. You were so much happier out there. How could I say no?”

“You could’ve at least pretended to miss me.” Sarge lay down at her feet and sighed, biting down softly so Squeaky Chicken seemed to mew.

“I did miss you,” her mother snapped. “But what good would it have done to tell you that when you were so obviously improving? I hated that f**king stutter. I wanted to kill it for all the trouble it gave you, and when you called home and it was so much easier for you to talk, I couldn’t burst into tears and tell you that I slept in your bed, could I? How would that have helped?”

Emmaline paused. “Did you just drop the F-bomb, Mom?”

“Adopting Angela was a somewhat impulsive decision. I felt like a failure as a mother, so, yes, I tried again. If I’d have known it would hurt you, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Can you give her back?” Em asked.

“What? No! Of course not.”

“It was a joke. I actually love Angela, you know.”

“Oh. Well. That’s good.”

The rushing of the falls was full and lovely. “I love you, too, Mom.”

Nothing. There was no sound from the other end of the phone.

“Are you crying?” Emmaline asked.

“Yes.”

“In a happy way?”

“Yes.”

Emmaline found that she was smiling. “Come and visit, okay? Soon?”

“Okay,” Mom said. There was a pause. “Emmie, I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you with the stutter.”

Em stroked her dog’s soft fur. It had been a very, very long time since her mother had used that nickname. “It wasn’t yours to fix, Mom,” she said. “Besides, it built character.”

Her mother laughed, then blew her nose. “It sure did. No one has more character than you.”

“Not even Flawless Angela?” Em teased.

“Oh, her. She’s so boringly flawless.”

“Except she’s pretty fabulous.”

“Exactly. All right, I’ll let you go.” There was a pause. “Can I call you again tomorrow?” Mom asked.