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have said but didn’t, the things she wished she could go back in timeand change, how she should have made them proud of her instead of constantly worrying them.
    Willa looked up from the invitation and was surprised to find that Georgie had turned her head and her light gray eyes, the same shade as Willa’s, were looking directly at her, as if she’d recognized something familiar in what Willa had said. It hadn’t happened in literally years, and Willa was so surprised that her heart picked up speed.
    Willa leaned forward. “What is it, Grandmother Georgie? The Blue Ridge Madam? The Women’s Society Club?”
    Georgie’s left side was rendered useless from the stroke, so she moved her right hand over to Willa’s. She tried to get her mouth to move, to form words.
    It took a few tries before Willa recognized one word: peach .
    “Peach? You want peaches?”
    Her grandmother’s face suddenly went slack, as if she’d forgotten. She turned back to the window.
    “Okay, Grandmother Georgie,” she said as she stood and kissed her head. “I’ll make sure you have some peaches.”
    She wrapped a shawl around her grandmother’s shoulders and promised her that she’d be back to see her soon.
    With one last look, she turned and left the room.
    It was silly to expect something profound. That she was trying to communicate at all was enough.
    She stopped at the nurses’ station to see if there wereany medical notes, then asked if her grandmother could have peaches with her next meal.
    She put on her sunglasses and walked outside into the razor-sharp sunshine, crossing the wide brick patio toward the parking lot. The sun was already glinting in hot metallic waves off car windshields, which was why she didn’t see that someone was approaching her until she was only a few steps away.
    It was Paxton Osgood, wearing a cute pink dress and gorgeous shoes. She was tall like her brother, but had wide curves, as if one of her angular French ancestors had scandalized everyone by marrying a pretty stout milkmaid, and several generations later, Paxton was the result. Beside her was a man with blond hair and fair skin. He was in a tailored suit that shouldn’t have looked so good on someone that slim. But it did. He was beautiful in the most unusual way, one of those people you couldn’t quite figure out which side of masculine or feminine they fell on.
    Not knowing what Colin had told his sister about last night, or what hard feelings Paxton still harbored for that time Willa faked a love letter from Paxton to Robbie Roberts, Willa wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from her by way of greeting, or even if she was going to greet her at all.
    She definitely wasn’t expecting Paxton to smile and say, “Willa! Hello! I’m so glad I ran into you. Are you here in the mornings, then? That’s why I never see you. Did you get my note about wanting to do something special for our grandmothers at the gala?”
    Willa self-consciously patted at her wild, wavy hairbecause Paxton’s hair was in her trademark chignon. She was always so polished. “My grandmother isn’t well enough to attend,” Willa said. “She doesn’t even remember me, much less the club.”
    “Yes, I know. And I’m sorry,” Paxton said. “What I was thinking of doing was honoring her through you. That you could accept a gift for her.”
    “I … think I have a previous engagement that evening,” Willa said.
    “Oh,” Paxton said, obviously surprised. There was an awkward pause.
    Sebastian cleared his throat. “Hello, Willa. Nice to see you again. It’s been a while.”
    “Sebastian. I heard you’d taken over Dr. Kostovo’s practice.” Sebastian Rogers reinforced her belief that reinvention was not just a nice theory. It really did happen. Back in high school, her peers would sometimes forget she was there because she was normally so quiet during school, but Sebastian wasn’t nearly as lucky. Willa had the power to be invisible, something someone who