Something flickered across Emily's face. “My mother is adjusting. She calls every day to check on me.”
“That's what mothers do. We never stop worrying, no matter how old our children get.” Grandma Sarah glanced at Maggie. “Isn't that right?”
“Absolutely,” Maggie agreed.
They made their way toward the house, a chaotic processionof rolling suitcases and tote bags and Grandma Sarah's oversized purse, which she refused to let anyone else carry. Emily fell into step beside Lauren, answering questions about the orchard in her precise, detailed way. The farmhouse rose up before them, white clapboard and black shutters, smoke curling from the chimney. It looked like something from a painting, Maggie thought. Like the kind of home people dreamed about but rarely found.
Paolo met them at the door, his warm smile a welcome beacon. “Finally! The travelers have arrived. Come in, come in. The house has been too quiet.”
“Too quiet?” Chelsea laughed. “There are two newborns here. When has it been quiet?”
“You know what I mean. It's been missing something.” He kissed Maggie on the cheek as she passed, then turned to greet the others. “Sarah, Lauren, you look wonderful. And Mrs. Garrison...”
“Paolo, I've told you a hundred times to call me Sarah.”
“And I've told you a hundred times that I was raised to respect my elders.”
“Elders.” Grandma Sarah snorted. “You make me sound ancient.”
“Not ancient. Distinguished.”
“Better.” She patted his cheek as she passed. “You've always been my favorite of Maggie's husbands.”
“I'm not sure I believe that, but I'll take it for now.”
The living room was warm and cluttered in the way that only a house with newborns could be. Baby blankets draped over every surface. A basket of tiny clothes waited to be folded by the fireplace.
And there, in the middle of it all, was Beth.
She sat in the large armchair by the window, Alexander cradled against her chest, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion. She wore an oversized sweater that had seen better days and herhair was pulled back in a messy bun, but when she looked up and saw her sisters, her whole face transformed.
“You're here,” she said, her voice cracking. “You're actually here.”
Lauren crossed the room in three strides and dropped to her knees beside the chair. “Of course we're here. Did you think we'd miss this?”
“I thought you might get lost. Or stranded. Or drive each other crazy and turn around.”
“We did drive each other crazy. But we didn't turn around.”
Sarah approached more slowly, her eyes fixed on the bundle in Beth's arms. “Is that Alexander?”
“This is Alexander.” Beth shifted slightly so they could see better. “He just ate, so he's in a milk coma. Charlotte's upstairs sleeping, she had a rough night.”
“He's beautiful.” Sarah's voice was barely a whisper. “Beth, he's absolutely beautiful.”
“He looks like Gabriel. Same nose, same chin.” Beth smiled down at her son. “Charlotte looks more like me. Poor thing.”
“Stop that,” Lauren said. “You're gorgeous and you know it.”
Emily had positioned herself near the doorway, observing the reunion with quiet attention. Beth caught her eye and smiled.
“Emily, come here. You're part of this too.”
Emily hesitated, then moved closer to the group. “I don't want to intrude on family time.”
“You are family,” Beth said firmly.
Grandma Sarah had made her way across the room with the determination of a woman on a mission. She stopped in front of Beth and held out her arms.
