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course, the last time he had seen her had been just days after she had buried her son, when her soul was freshly shattered by tragedy and her eyes were still blackened by the endless non-comprehension of loss. The day after the funeral, Bill and Kitty had brushed aside Adam’s contrite apologies for missing the service and had taken him to pay his respects.
    He had stood between them at Bud’s gravesite, smelling the fresh wet dirt and sodden grass. He had held Kitty’s hand as she wept. Bill had stood with his back straight and shoulders square, stoically ignoring the tears that ran down his own cheeks and dropped darkly onto his black suit.
    Death was always a betrayal of reason, and the Appletons had lost two sons in the space of a few years. Lost them, not to war or even to illness, but to mindless accidents. It was enough to confound the mind, to splinter the heart into a thousand pieces.
    “Adam!” Kitty exclaimed. She doubled her pace and hurried towards him, hands outstretched. He was carrying Christopher’s gift, but he caught Kitty up in a one-armed bear hug and lifted her straight off the ground. When he put her back on her feet, she was laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners. He searched her face, trying to see past her smile to the heart that beat beneath. He probed her eyes, and found sorrow in their depths. But he also found happiness there — and the genuine article, at that. He smiled.
    “Being a grandmother agrees with you!” he said, and he meant it.
    “Oh, Adam, you have no idea!” she said blissfully. “I thought being a mother was wonderful.” Her voice faltered. She caught herself and hurried on. “But being a grandmother is the most fun I’ve ever had in my life!”
    Adam didn’t know what to say to that, so he just squeezed her shoulder. He looked up as two party guests of the somewhat grown-up variety came around the corner.
    “Oh, let me introduce you to some friends of ours,” Kitty said, catching sight of them. “This is Stella Stanislaw and her daughter Rose. They live across the street.”
    He shook hands with both of them as Kitty made the introductions. Stella was a thin woman of medium height. She had an expression of intelligent irony and a shock of red hair that was styled within an inch of its life. Her eyes were dark and snapping with very pale lashes, which made her face quite arresting, if not beautiful.
    Rose was young, probably about twelve by Adam’s estimation, with Stella’s flashing eyes and pale skin, but her hair was dark and thick as a mink coat. She had some kind of drawing pad under her arm, and a pencil stuck out of her shirt pocket. Adam noted her grave and grown-up demeanor with some amusement. She probably felt very adult today, with all the youngsters running around.
    “My husband Max is in the backyard. You’ll meet him later.” Stella smiled. “You can’t miss him. He’s the one with the black hat, fighting all the little sheriffs.”
    “Dad’s really enjoying this party too much for a man of his age,” Rose said.
    Stella laughed. “It’s true. We’ll probably have to have a cowboy theme for his next birthday.” She looked at Adam. “When did you get back to town?”
    “Just a few days ago.”
    “A few days ago? I didn’t know that.” Kitty swatted at him. “And you haven’t been out to see us yet? You should be ashamed of yourself! Where are you staying?”
    “In DC, with a Navy buddy of mine.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll stay with us until you find a place of your own.”
    He laughed uncomfortably, glancing briefly at Stella and Rose. Bill and Kitty were like kin to him, but he was a man who liked his independence. A lot. “I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
    “Put us out? Adam, we’re family . We’re not going to argue about it, and I’m not going to take no for an answer.”
    Adam ran his fingers over the brightly-colored wrapping paper on the package he was holding. He didn’t want to press the point