Spring came early that year. The roses my mother had planted, the ones I had thought were dead, bloomed in the front yard. I stood on the porch with a cup of coffee, watching the sun rise over the street.
Emma came out a few minutes later, still in her pajamas. "Mommy, can I have pancakes?"
"Of course."
"And can we plant new flowers in the backyard?"
"Sure. What kind?"
"Purple ones. Like Grandma's."
I smiled. "I think she would like that."
Daniel had moved out two months ago. The divorce was still in progress, but we had reached an agreement. He would pay child support. He would have visitation rights. But he would never set foot in my father's house again.
Tyler had been enrolled in a school in his own district. I didn't know much about him, only that he was five years old and inn
