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whole idea. I did insist on buying our own smoothies, however.
    “Sorry,” Jane said once we were seated on one of the benches surrounding the playground, watching the kids scale the equipment. “I tend to steamroll people sometimes, or so my husband says. You just seemed like you needed some company this morning. Someone to talk to.”
    I sipped my blueberry smoothie and shivered. The breeze was chilly and I hadn’t had time to grab a jacket. “I wouldn’t want to bore you with my problems,” I said, not unkindly. Surely she had better things to do than listen to the ramblings of a crazy woman.
    “Before I retired, I was a high school guidance counselor,” she told me. “Believe me, dear, I’ve heard it all.”
    I glanced at her, taking in her no-nonsense air and the unequivocal adoration in her eyes when she looked at little Mason. Obviously, she knew what it meant to love a tiny extension of yourself so much that if you lost them, it would feel like losing a limb. If anyone could sympathize, it would be someone like this woman.
    Screw it , I thought, and started talking. I told her everything, beginning with the day Mom left and ending on today, the day before my stepfather returned home and dismantled the new normal I’d so carefully constructed. By the time I was done, Jane’s eyes were glassy with tears.
    “Oh dear,” she said, squeezing my hand. “Oh, you poor girl.”
    I turned away and dug out a tissue, wiping my face before one of the twins saw me. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted to this stranger who’d been kinder to me in the past hour than my family had been my entire life.
    “Hmm,” she said, pursing her lips thoughtfully. “You know what? My daughter-in-law is a lawyer. I could explain your situation to her and see what she says. You might have rights, you know, as their sister. Maggie would be happy to help, I’m sure.”
    “Mason’s mom?” I asked, picking up my smoothie again.
    “No, Mason’s mother is…well, let’s just say she’s in the same league as yours. Useless as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest.”
    I burst out laughing. “How many kids do you have?”
    “Four grown children and three grandchildren,” she said, beaming with maternal pride. “Mason’s my middle grandbaby. He and I spend a lot of time together.”
    As if he sensed he was being talked about, Mason careened over to our bench and scrambled up on his grandmother’s lap. “Where’s Daddy?” he asked, reaching for his smoothie, which had been resting on the bench between Jane and me.
    “At the store, remember?” She ran her fingers through Mason’s brown curls. “That’s why Nana took you to gymnastics today.”
    “Oh,” he replied, and off he went again, sneakers kicking up gravel as he ran. Jane watched him for a moment before turning back to me.
    “My son Ryan, he’s—”
    Her words were cut off by the piercing sound of Lila crying. I stood up, frantically scanning the playground. I finally saw her at the bottom of the tube slide, clutching her knee with both hands. Jane and smoothies forgotten, I rushed over to her and pried her hands away, then let out a relieved breath. She’d only skinned it. I scooped her up and made a beckoning motion at Drake, who was perched on one of those springy ride-on toys. Frowning, he slid off and walked toward me.
    “We should probably go,” I said to Jane when we reached the bench. “Thank you so much for…everything.” I wish you were my family , I added silently.
    “Honey, you are more than welcome.” She grabbed her purse and rooted around in it for a moment, extracting a pen and what looked like a receipt from Target. “I’m giving you my phone number,” she said as she scribbled. When she was done, she looked up at me, eyes narrowed slightly like she was considering something. “Actually, I just had a better idea. Every Sunday, my husband Graham and I host a big dinner at our house. All the kids and grandkids come, and