Emmett wasn’t a big-breakfast person, so she lay there, trying to think if there was something going on that day she had yet to remember. Nothing came to mind. Lifting herself onto one elbow, she glanced at the open notebook on her bedside table. Today is Sunday. There was nothing beyond that simple phrase, which meant she had no specific plans for the day. Which meant she should make plans to spend time with Ricky. Just the thought made her feel anxious and inadequate, so she rolled back onto her pillow and considered going back to sleep. But the noises from the kitchen continued, so curiosity prompted her to climb out of bed and slip into her robe. She was reaching for the doorknob when there was a light rap on the door itself. Pulling it open, she faced no one, until she dropped her gaze from adult level to child level. There stood Ricky, a tray in his hands, an uncertain expression on his face. “Happy Mother’s Day?” he said, more as a question than a greeting. “I— Oh.”
