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of course that was good, anyone who came to look at the house could be the one to buy it. But God, she just wanted to take Callie back, settle in, work on her accounting spreadsheet.
    She stalled long enough so just the realtor waited.
    “Sorry, give me one minute,” Shelby said on the run. “Callie really needs to pee.”
    They made it—just barely. When she went back out to the great room, the realtor sat working on her tablet.
    “We had a
very
successful open house. Over fifty people, and this time of year that’s excellent. We had a lot of interest, and two offers.”
    “Offers.” Stunned, Shelby set Callie down.
    “Low offers, and I don’t think the lender’s going to accept, but it’s a good start. And we have a family of four very interested. I have a good feeling about them. They’re going to talk it over and get back to me.”
    “That’s terrific.”
    “I also have an offer on your master bedroom suite. One of the lookers brought her sister, and while the sister isn’t in the market for a house, she is for furniture. The offer’s a little low, in my opinion, and she’d want it right away. Monday at the latest.”
    “Sold.”
    The realtor laughed, then blinked in surprise when she realized Shelby meant it. “Shelby, I haven’t even told you her offer.”
    “It doesn’t matter. I hate that furniture. I hate every stick of furniture in this house. Except for Callie’s room,” she amended, pushing at her hair as her daughter pulled out the basket of toys Shelby kept in one of the base kitchen cabinets. “It’s the only one where I picked everything out myself. She can come haul it away tonight, for all I care. There are plenty of other places to sleep in here.”
    “Can we sit down?”
    “I’m sorry, of course. I’m sorry, Ms. Tinesdale, I’m a little wound up, is all.”
    “I told you to call me Donna.”
    “Donna. Do you want some coffee or something? I’ve forgotten every bit of my manners.”
    “Just sit. You’re dealing with a lot. Frankly, I don’t know how you’re dealing with it all. I want to help you. That’s my job. The offer for the furniture is too low. Let me make a counteroffer. There’s nothing wrong with a bargain, Shelby, but I don’t like feeling you’re getting taken advantage of. Even though it’s ugly furniture.”
    “Oh!” Something inside Shelby just lit up. Like vindication. “Do you think so, too? Really?”
    “Just about every piece of it, except Callie’s room.”
    Shelby let out a laugh that to her shock turned to weeping in a finger snap.
    “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.”
    “Mama.” Callie crawled into her lap. “Don’t cry. Mama, don’t cry.”
    “I’m all right.” She clutched Callie, rocked. “I’m okay. I’m just tired.”
    “Mama needs a nap.”
    “I’m okay. I’m okay, baby. Don’t worry.”
    “I’m going to pour you a glass of wine,” Donna announced, and dug tissues from her pocket. “You sit. I saw a bottle in the fridge.”
    “It’s kind of early.”
    “Not today it isn’t. Now tell me,” she continued as she went to get a glass. “What else do you want to sell? The art?”
    “Oh my God, yes.” Worn to the bone, she let Callie pat a tissue over her face. “It’s on my list to see about. I don’t understand paintings like all these.”
    “Rugs? Lamps?”
    “I’ve packed up everything I want out of here, except for Callie’s room and my clothes, and a few things I need to keep around while we’re living here. I don’t want any of it, Mrs.— Donna. Even the dishes aren’t mine.”
    “There’s quite a wine collection downstairs.”
    “I’ve put twenty-four bottles online, this site I found. People are already bidding. I’m going to put another dozen on tonight.”
    Donna angled her head, gave Shelby what Shelby thought of as an appraisal. “Aren’t you clever?”
    “If I was clever, I wouldn’t be in this fix. Thank you,” she added when Donna gave her the wine.
    “I don’t think