Even birds push their young from the nest eventually.”
“This feels less like pushing from the nest,” I admitted, “and more like severing a limb.”
“Painful either way,” Helen said. “But sometimes necessary for growth. Hers. And yours.”
Headlights swept across the yard as another vehicle pulled into my driveway.
This time, I recognized Blake’s sensible sedan.
“Reinforcements have arrived, I see,” my mother observed dryly. “Want me to send him away?”
I smiled at her protective instinct.
“No. I’ll talk to him. Would you mind making some fresh tea?”
