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We walk for a minute, not saying anything, until Grace exhales a soft, wistful sigh. “Uh-oh. What was that sigh? I don’t know that sigh yet. Is that bad?” “No. That was my pinch-me-because-this-can’t-be-real sigh.” My chest puffs out all on its own. Didn’t know it could do that. I squeeze her hand, smiling. “In that case, I suppose I should make one, too.” Thoughtfully, she says, “It’s funny, isn’t it?” “What is?” “Life.” “Funny ha-ha, or funny strange?” She shrugs, looking out toward the restless ocean, glinting in the pale moonlight. “Both. If anyone had told me last week that my condo would explode in a fireball and I’d be left homeless but wouldn’t particularly care, I’d have written him a prescription for an antipsychotic.” I stop abruptly and pull her into my arms. Looking d
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