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shirt when he nursed, his eyes locked on hers in a way that fixed her at the center of his universe. A sob erupted in her throat, and her head lurched forward slightly. Maura brought her hand to her mouth. Her entire world had drained through a sieve and she could not imagine how it could be reconstituted.
    “You OK?” Pete asked softly, leaning into her and then releasing her hand, smoothing it in her lap tenderly. She nodded slowly as he swiped his nose with his free hand, and Maura saw tears prick his eyes. There was a trace of alcohol on his breath, smothered by a breath mint and his heavy aftershave, but in Maura’s strange, floating condition she felt neither the familiar reaction of disgust nor dismay.
    Ryan was fidgeting in his seat, but she looked away, incapable of producing the desire to admonish him, and she noticed with gratitude that her mother was intervening, reaching across her father to put a hand on her son’s arm. Sarah was in the back of the church with a babysitter. Thank God. She could not have dealt with that distraction during the service.
    The disembodied, peaceful sensation created by the pills was pleasant, and when the priest signaled to their family that it was time to rise and walk up the aisle, she panicked for a moment. Her feet felt weighted like cinder blocks as she fought the overwhelming desire to stay exactly where she was, gazing at the images of her son’s magnified face on the easels until darkness fell.
    As the final hymn swelled on the organ, Maura followed the cranberry-colored runner toward the back of the church in slow motion. Darting her eyes on both sides of pews, she spotted the Hulburds. Maura was relieved to see that their son, Alex, was not with them. She momentarily caught the mother’s gaze, and the woman abruptly looked down, flustered. Maura lifted her jaw, almost defiantly, directing her eyes back to her footfalls on the swirling textured carpet in front of her.
    As she stood at the back of the church in the receiving line, Maura had to keep a hand on Pete’s arm to steady herself. She felt as if her legs were about to buckle, and she couldn’t remember when she’d last eaten. The almost pleasant detached feeling was dissipating, giving way to a gnawing anxiety. The combination of an empty stomach and the pills hit her suddenly, and she swayed for a moment, righting herself. Her feet hurt in the black heels. A few more minutes, though, and then she’d be outside the church in the fresh air, away from the pervasive and overpowering scent of white lilies.

5
    “Can you hold Sarah?” Margaret asked, placing their granddaughter in Roger’s lap. He nodded and began tickling her. “I’m going to heat up some soup and try to get Maura to eat something.” Roger sighed. So much of the past week since the funeral had been spent indoors, staring at the four walls of Maura and Pete’s home or trying to distract the grandchildren in their own house.
    “Hello, beautiful.” Roger bounced Sarah on his knee, and she let out a scream of delight.
    “I’m glad Pete went back to the office,” said Margaret. “Both of them moping around here was so hard to watch.”
    “I can’t imagine he’ll be able to concentrate.”
    “Everyone just needs a place to go,” said Margaret. “People need to try to get back to a routine after something awful happens.”
    “I think I’m going to head back into the office this week as well.”
    Margaret nodded, as if she’d been waiting for this announcement. Roger avoided her eyes and began bouncing Sarah again, to her delight. “There’s not much for me to do here, and the Crown deal has become a real mess. Too many cooks.”
    “Oh?” said Margaret, feigning interest. She lifted a spoonful of soup to her lips and began blowing on it before slurping loudly. “Hot, hot, oh, Lord, I just burned my tongue.” She abruptly turned off the flame under the pan and breathed in deeply.
    Roger quickly poured a glass of water and