Chapter Twenty-Six
Zoe
I looked across the kitchen table at my mother. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a tidy twist, the silvery streaks in it standing out against its brightness. She sipped her coffee and flipped through the newspaper. After a fortifying sip of my coffee, I took a breath and eyed her.
“Mom, I need your opinion.”
She folded the paper and looked over at me. “On what?”
I’d arrived two nights ago, and my parents had taken it in stride. I visited every few months as it was. I didn’t usually show up on short notice, but they were gracious enough not to badger me. When it came to parents, I’d drawn a good hand in life. Beyond the fact they’d both been workaholics—I came by that trait honestly—they were involved, caring parents. Work had been such a focus for them, pare
