whose messages I still couldn’t bring myself to read, but from my mother.
Contractor finished with the dock. Still planning to pick me up from the airport tomorrow.
I smiled, typing back.
Dock is perfect. Flight still on time. We’ll be there at 2:15.
Helen had insisted on visiting once I was properly settled, her practical nature preventing her from making the trip until the renovations were complete and the cottage fully functional.
Tomorrow would mark her first visit to my new home—a milestone I anticipated with pleasure and
