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year, Doug and the kids were learning to go on without their mom and sister. She shook her head. Sometimes life didn’t make sense at all.
    Pushing a toddler-size chair under the puzzle table, she recited the feeble words in her mind once more. A dozen times she’d rehearsed what she would say to Doug and to the kids when they came back. But now nothing sounded right. How could she offer anything that didn’t sound trite and hollow?
    She looked up to see the door open and a ball-capped head bobbing above the bookcases that hid her view. A current of nerves shot through her, then subsided when she realized it was just Mike Jensen, dropping his kids off.
    She’d dared to hope the DeVores might get here before the other children arrived so she could spend a little time with them and assess how the kids were adjusting.
    She stopped to greet Brett Jensen and his little sister, Hallie. They gave their dad distracted good-bye hugs, then chattered to Mickey about the presents Santa had brought them. She steered them toward the reading corner and helped them settle in with some books and games.
    By the time she got back to the front, Brenda Deaver, her main teacher, was making coffee.
    “Hi, Mickey. How was your New Year’s? You do anything special?”
    “Not really…same as every year…went to my brother’s.” She knew Brenda’s real question was “Did you have a date?” She was getting tired of disappointing everyone with her love life—or rather the lack thereof. She might be forced to deck the next person who felt the needto tell her, “You’re so beautiful…I can’t believe you’re not married.” As if beauty were some magic key to wedded bliss.
    Time to change the subject. “Listen, Brenda, would you mind doing story hour this morning? The DeVore kids will be back today, and I want to stick pretty close.”
    Brenda frowned. “Of course. Those poor kids…”
    The door opened again and Doug walked in, a bundled-up Harley in his arms. He herded the twins toward Mickey and Brenda, nodding a greeting, then lowering Harley to the floor.
    Mickey wiped her palms on the knees of her pants and went to greet them, watching the children closely. The twins seemed cheerful, like it was any ordinary weekday morning. They shrugged out of their coats and followed Brenda to the reading corner.
    But Harley stood there, droopy-eyed, trying to put a mittened thumb in her mouth.
    Doug squatted and pulled off her mittens, then sat back on his haunches and went to work at the knotted strings tied under the toddler’s chin. He glanced up at Mickey. “She’s not quite awake yet.”
    “Here…let me get that.” Mickey knelt beside him and reached for the dingy white laces, asking permission with her eyes.
    “They make these stupid strings too short. Or else my fingers are too big.” He inspected his hands as if he’d never seen them before. Dark circles rimmed his eyes, and his face looked thinner than she remembered.
    Mickey swallowed hard and busied herself with the soggy knot, training her attention on the toddler. “How are you this morning, Miss Harley? We missed you. Did you have a good Christmas?” Her heartbeat faltered, and she silently begged the thoughtless, stupid words to evaporate.
    Instead, they hovered between her and Doug. Did you have a good Christmas? Was she a complete idiot? Somehow her carefully rehearsed speech had disintegrated, and she’d spouted the same lame greeting she’d given her other students as they came in.
    Her cheeks burned while she finished working out the tangled ties on Harley’s hood. She unzipped the little coat and slipped off the hood to reveal blond curls in dire need of a comb. She rose to find herself eye level with the collar of Doug’s flannel shirt.
    Her throat swelled. Forcing herself to meet his eyes, she croaked out an apology. “I’m so sorry,” she muttered, then realized he probably thought she was apologizing for her thoughtless comment. She couldn’t leave