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fallen over my sleepy little south-central Missouri town by the time I reluctantly pull out my emergencies-only
     credit card and rack up about five hundred dollars’ worth of items I can’t do without.
    Against Greg’s wishes, I went upstairs to see if I could make it into my bedroom to grab a few things after all, but he was
     right. The tree is so enormous it’s blocking the hallway to my room. I wanted to crawl over it, but Greg hauled me bodily
     down the steps when I so much as mentioned it. He was more than likely right. And what a hunk he is when he’s being all protective.
    Only now I’m homeless and five hundred dollars in the hole—although I did find a great bargain on a pair of size 10 Gap jeans
     (size 10!)—and have been forced to call Rick and ask him to let me use one of his laptop computers until I can get mine replaced.
     He doesn’t have a problem with it, so we swing by there. Gives me a chance to hug the kids again.
    I have to bite back a wicked, nanny-nanny boo-boo grin when Rick just stands there helplessly as Darcy disappears into his
     office and reappears with his brand-new IBM ThinkPad and tells me to keep it as long as I need it. I know without a doubt
     he never intended to let me use the new computer. Evidenced by his grunt and jerky nod when I ask him if he has everything
     backed up.
    After being my escort through the mall and over to Rick and Darcy’s, Greg pulls his Avalanche alongside the curb in front
     of my broken house so I can get my minivan. My heart sinks as I look upon my humble abode with fresh eyes. I can only wonder
     about the extent of the damage to our things. My throat clogs as I think of my desk. The one Mom gave me when Daddy died.
     How many nights did I see him studying the Word at that desk? I don’t know if I could bear for it to be demolished. And what
     about Ari’s canopy bed she’s had since she was six? Or Tommy’s Hot Wheels collection?
    As if sensing my mood, Greg takes my hand. Such a simple act, but profoundly comforting. I lean my head on his shoulder and
     allow the tears to fall. Slow, soft. I won’t allow myself to sob uncontrollably, but neither can I hold back the pain. We
     stay there for a long time until finally I remember the time and realize I can’t come and go as I please at all hours of the
     day or night if I’m staying with another person. I sit up and grab a Kleenex out of my purse. “It’s going on ten o’clock.
     I should probably get over to your mom’s.”
    “I’ll follow you in my truck and help you carry stuff in.”
    I nod, grateful that he isn’t planning to have me go alone.
    “Sadie’s still over there anyway, and I need to bring her home. We’ve got school in the morning.”
    “Oh.” That’s right. The world must go on.
    He gets out of the truck and opens my door for me. A little ritual we started on our first date and we both like. It’s one
     of those things that stuck. I’m not holding my breath that he might keep it when we get married, but I sort of have a feeling
     Greg might be the exception to the rule that says once a guy gets married he stops doing all the considerate things that caused
     you to fall in love in the first place.
    I head to the back door and open it, reaching for my bags.
    “Claire, wait.” He takes my hand.
    I give a little embarrassed laugh. “Oh, that’s right. You’re following me over there. No sense in creating an extra step,
     is there?” I shut the door.
    His smile sparkles beneath the street light. “No. There’s not. But listen, I want to talk to you about something else.” We
     walk slowly, hand in hand until we reach my driveway, which is thankfully on the other side of the house from where the tree
     fell. At least I still have a minivan to drive.
    “What is it?” I snicker and nudge him with my elbow. “Cold feet about having me stay with your mom?” I chide. “Afraid she
     might show me some pictures of you in diapers?”
    A deep breath lifts his