I spun around and saw a man jogging across the asphalt. As he got closer, I realized it was Matt. No wonder I hadn’t recognized him—he was wearing a Jimi Hendrix T-shirt and jeans and had grown a short beard.

“I called you earlier,” I said. “I saw the post.”

“Good,” he said. He kicked at the ground with his sneaker, the way Miles often did when he was bothered by something. I expected him to explain why he’d made the decision he had. Instead he said, “You should probably know that I left my job.”

I stared at him with disbelief. Jenny often said she wished Matt would quit. She always followed this remark with a disclaimer that she was joking—but there was truth in most jokes. If only she were there to learn her wish had come true. “Wow. When did you do that?”

“Last week,” he said. “The job isn’t important. Wasn’t important. We’ll be fine for money for a while, and I need to be with Cecily. She’s my focus. And dealing with Jenny’s death.”

An old instinct surfaced, and I almost blurted out that I hoped his decision had nothing to do with me. But that wasn’t true at all. I wanted what I had said to have influenced him. Wasn’t that the entire point of saying it? “That’s great, Matt. How wonderful that you can make that choice.”

“Yeah.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m making some changes. I already told Cecily that Jenny accidentally died from taking too many pills, and for the time being that’s where we’ll leave it. Later, I’ll tell her the rest. I’d appreciate it if you took the same approach with Stevie and Miles. But otherwise use your judgment with whoever needs to know.”

“Sonia and Jael?” I said.

He shook his head. “That shouldn’t fall to you. I’ll call them myself tonight.”

“Thank you.” I had to take a few deep breaths before I could find the courage to speak again. “Are we going to be okay? You and me, I mean?”

The lines in his forehead deepened. “I don’t know, Penny. You’re probably not out of line to call me on the stuff I’ve done wrong, but it’s hard to be around you sometimes.”

“I know that. It hasn’t been my intention to make you feel bad. But I know Jenny would have wanted me to say what I did.”

“Yeah, I get that. But like I said, it’s still tough to hear.”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll choose my words carefully. But please, Matt—don’t punish me by keeping Cecily away from me. It’s bad enough to have lost Jenny. I don’t think I can handle losing her, too.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I know. And believe me, she can’t handle losing you, either. Whatever differences you and I have, they’re not as important as what Cecily needs. That’s one thing I’m clear on.”

I blinked furiously. “Thank you.”

“Welcome. Well,” he said, looking away, “we should probably get the kids.”

“Right.”

We were about to walk into the school when I stopped. “Hey, Matt?”

He turned to me. “Yeah?”

“Jenny would have been so proud of you.”

Maybe it was just the light, but I was pretty sure there were tears in his eyes, too. “I believe you, Penelope. Because no one knew Jenny better than you.”

When the kids and I got home, Lorrie and Olive were sitting on their front porch. I expected Lorrie to scurry away, the way she had been lately whenever she saw me. But she stayed where she was. I hesitated, then lifted my hand. Olive scowled in my direction, but Lorrie waved and then smiled faintly. I almost didn’t return it—what if she took it as an invitation? Then I realized even if that happened, it would be fine. I smiled back.

Inside, I found Sanjay in Miles’ bedroom. The usually cluttered bookshelf was in perfect order, and the floor was free of toys and stuffed animals.

“I was going to ask how your first day went, but now I just want to know what on earth you’re up to,” I said.

He was still dressed in his work clothes. He smoothed Miles’ comforter and looked up at me. “Were you expecting me to turn into a slug around the house just because I have a ‘real job’?” he said, making air quotes around the last two words. “And today went great. Mostly training, but I met the entire department and got set up on my computer.”

“I’m glad. But you have two real jobs now. Who cares if Miles’ room is clean?” He was staring at me. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Honey, do you have another fever? Because if you think it’s okay for Miles’ room to be a mess . . . well, I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t make me pinch you,” I warned.

He laughed. “Let’s go relax before the kids start hollering for dinner. I got more of that wine you like.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?”

I grinned. “Yes.”

“Then yes,” he said, grinning back at me.

Ten minutes later we were on opposite ends of the sofa, our legs tangled together in the center. He had just told me about his first day, and in turn, I told him about my conversation with Yolanda.

“Will you apply?” he asked, watching me intently.

“I really don’t want to,” I said. As soon as I heard the words come out of my mouth, I knew them to be true. “But I feel bad about that. It’s probably the best opportunity I’ve ever had, and another one like it won’t come along anytime soon. Don’t you think?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I think the best opportunity is the one you’re excited about and truly want to take. The timing isn’t right for this one. Maybe you’ll never want a job like that. That’s okay, too.”

I took a sip of my wine and thought about what he’d said. “Thank you. I know it’s early still, but you taking that job makes me feel less guilty about not springing for this opportunity. There’s less weight on me now.”

“You’re most welcome—I’m just sorry I didn’t do something sooner.” He smiled at me. “Can we officially retire our lists? I feel like we’re in a better place these days, don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not sure we can credit the lists for that.”

“Well, yes and no. If you hadn’t said you wanted things to change, I might not have gotten this job, and you would feel pressure to apply for Yolanda’s, and then things would be a whole lot harder right now.” He lifted his glass, and I leaned forward and clinked my own against his. “So, here’s to you and your crazy idea.”

“Our crazy idea,” I said.

“Yes,” he said. “Here’s to us.”

As I looked at him—with those brown eyes, which I had been looking at for nearly two decades but could still take me by surprise—I thought about what might come next for us. If I had learned anything from our project, it was that our marriage was not strengthened during good times, or even during the bad. It was working together toward a common goal that cemented our bond.

A knock at the door broke through my thoughts.

I sighed. While I was glad Lorrie had finally taken my advice, her timing had hardly improved. “Ignore it,” I said to Sanjay.

“You should probably see who it is.”

I looked at him, puzzled. Had he ordered me flowers? A singing telegram?

But when I opened the front door, a face I knew as well as my own was staring back at me. “Mi vida,” said my father. My life.

“Dad,” I said. Then I broke into tears. I could feel my father’s ribs as he hugged me, and his hair was too gray, and—well, he didn’t look particularly healthy. But when we finally pulled apart, he was smiling.

More important, he was here .

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to visit.”

“It’s okay,” I said, not even bothering to try to stop crying. “Come in, come in.”

“Thank you,” he said. He glanced around. “What a nice place you have.”

“Thank you. I like it, too.”

Sanjay had come to the hallway. After he took my father’s suitcase, he embraced him.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” I said.

He grinned. “Your dad wanted to come visit, so I told him to come as soon as he could. All I did was get Miles’ room ready so he had a place to sleep.”

My heart swelled. He knew how much this meant to me, and he had helped make it happen.

“Kids! Your grandfather is here!” Sanjay yelled.

Miles and Stevie came running down the stairs.

“Grandpa?” said Miles, looking at my father questioningly. And no surprise—he hadn’t seen him since he was four. We had photos up, but it wasn’t the same.

My father knelt and extended a hand. “Hello, Miles. You can call me Abuelo . It’s nice to see you again.”

“Abuelo,” repeated Miles.

“Hi,” said Stevie quietly.

He turned to her. “Stevie! You’re the spitting image of your beautiful mother.” She flushed and smiled shyly.

“Hey, kids? Can you give your grandfather a tour of the house?” I said. I didn’t have to ask twice—they grabbed him by the hand and yanked him into the living room. “Gentle!” I called after them.

“I’m fine, Penelope!” he called back.

The screen door slammed as they pulled my father into the backyard.

“Thank you for doing this,” I said to Sanjay.

“I didn’t do anything except take your father’s call. He’s here because of you. Because you told him what you needed from him.”

“I did, didn’t I?” I gave him a teary smile, but Sanjay wiped my face with the sleeve of his new shirt and kissed me. “I’m going to go make sure the kids aren’t making your father jump on the trampoline, okay?”