“I think most people feel that way eventually.”

“Did you?”

“For eight years, I was almost entirely ‘Paul’s widow’ and ‘Mark’s mother.’ Nobody forced that on me. I was simply available to be those things and not much else.”

Hannah looked at her.

“And now?”

Linda smiled.

“Now I’m also the woman who traveled through Europe alone at sixty-seven and made a friend who’s going to Scotland with me.”

Hannah stared.

“You’re going where?”

“Scotland. In April.”

Mark laughed.

“You already booked another trip?”

“Yes.”

Hannah looked at Linda for several seconds.

Then she said:

“I’m sorry, Linda.”

Linda noticed the name immediately.

Not *Mom*.

Linda.

For years, Hannah had called her Mom because that was what daughters-in-law were expected to do.

But somehow, hearing her own name felt more intimate.

More honest.

“I know.”

“I handled Christmas terribly.”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking about schedules and logistics.”

Hannah swallowed.

“I wasn’t thinking about you as a person.”

“Yes.”

Mark sat completely still.

Linda could tell he had been hoping for this conversation but had never known how to create it.

“I’d like to do better,” Hannah said.

“I’d like that.”

“What does better mean?”

Linda considered the question.

“Include me.”

Hannah waited.

“Not because you feel obligated,” Linda continued. “Include me because you actually want me there. And if you don’t want me there, honesty is still better than pretending.”

“I do want you there.”