He nods. “I’ll be fine. It was a cardiac event and I’m making some lifestyle changes.”

“And taking his medication,” Tilly says, her expression equal parts affection and reprimand.

“The reason we’re telling you this, is that the experience, on top of Lisa’s passing, led us to some…”

Jack looks to Tilly, who picks up his sentence. “Soul-searching. About our priorities. And after some counseling, we’ve realized that we need to make some changes.”

“Top of the list is prioritizing our relationships with our grandchildren. The only connections we have to our daughter.”

“I found her journals when we cleaned out her old room in our apartment. Reading them—” Tilly breaks off, obviously overcome with emotion.

Jack pats her hand. “She was suffering, and we never knew.”

Feeling like I’m about to jump off a building, I make myself say what I need to. “I’m so sorry to hear all this. The health issue, and what sounds like losing Lisa all over again. But you can’t take my children. They’re finally getting settled here. I know you can give them more than I can but I’m their father.”

Tilly’s brows come all the way together. “Take them? Is that why you think we’re here?”

“Well, yeah. Last time I was in New York, your lawyers said?—”

Jack waves a hand in the air. “I fired that firm. I apologize if they said anything that had you concerned. They were not acting with our priorities in mind.”

“It’s obvious you and your parents are doing a wonderful job raising them,” Tilly adds. “And that you took care of Lisa the best you could.”

“So, what is it you want?” I ask, truly confused.

“Just to know our grandchildren, dear.” Tilly looks down at her hands clasped in her lap. “We just hope it’s not too late.”

“I, uh, well…” I’m struggling for words. This conversation is so unlike any I’ve had with Lisa’s parents before, it takes several beats before I can settle on what to say. “That sounds like a great idea, and I’m happy to help make it happen.”

Tilly’s parents look so relieved I almost burst out laughing, because it’s exactly what I’m feeling. Here I was worried that they hated me, that they thought I wasn’t good enough for their daughter, but the real situation is the exact opposite of what I’d assumed.

Which makes me wonder: are my assumptions about what Avery’s thinking and feeling wrong too? And if so, what is the truth? Does she hate me for pushing her away when I panicked? Or was the weekend away just a fling for her? If it’s the latter, my perceptions are totally out of whack. She said she wanted to take things public, didn’t she? Or was she just humoring me?

And how do I learn the truth if she won’t speak to me?

A few days later, I still haven’t heard from Avery, but I do wake up at dawn with an idea. On its surface, it doesn’t really seem to have anything to do with Avery or our relationship or apologizing, but I have a sense that if I can make it happen, it’ll help convince her to give me a second chance.

Maybe this is what my mom meant when she told me to trust myself?

But when I get to Trede, proposal for my new idea in hand, Eli’s not in his office. I ask his assistant to let him know that I’d like to meet with him and then head to my own office, where I find Eli scowling at me. “I thought I was supposed to stay out of things at the rec center.”

“How did you get here before me?”

He looks at his watch. “Looks like you’re late.”

“But I was just in your office. Asking to meet with you.”

“Guess I beat you to it,” he says. “Now, can you answer my question?”

He didn’t really ask a question, but I don’t want to make him mad when I need to get him on my side, so I say, “I have an idea that will make Leia Blake happy.”

“Is it the aftercare program? Because I already know about that.”

“Aftercare?”

“Did you not just spend the weekend at a conference with that blond woman from CPR? What’s her name? Starts with anA?”

Not sure where this is going, hoping I’m not in trouble for either sleeping with her or making her mad, I say, “Avery Mills and I did attend the conference, but we split up to cover as many sessions as possible.”