He’d been debating with himself all morning whether or not he should offer Becca and the kids a ride to church. John Odem might well be on his way over here to pick them up, or she might be planning to walk. It was only a few blocks, after all, but the weather had warmed up considerably, and without a stroller, Becca would have to carry CJ. Having had some experience at that, Dan didn’t think it a wise choice. So he found himself climbing the steps to his own porch and knocking on his own door like some stranger. Jem opened the door, wearing the same dress she’d worn the previous Sunday, but this time her mother had caught up her fine, pale hair into a neat ponytail and tied it with a scarf in a big floppy bow. He recognized the scarf as one that Abby often wore. To his gratification, Jem’s face lit up. She hurled herself at him, throwing both arms around his legs. He could feel her talking and felt a pang because she’d forgotten already that he couldn’t hear. He gave her a rub between her shoulders, something more than a pat, less than a hug, and then gently set her back, turning her little face up in one hand.
