“French toast? Frittata?Definitely frittata.Leaving the table again, she transferred a small packet from freezer to fridge. It was salmon, home-smoked on the island and more delicious than any she had ever found elsewhere. Smoked salmon wasn't Cecily's doing, but the dried basil and thyme she took from the herb rack were. Taking a vacuum-sealed package of sun-dried tomatoes from the cupboard, she set it on the counter beside the herbs. Frittata, hot biscuits, and fruit salad. With mimosas. And coffee. That sounded right. Eaten out on the deck maybe?No, not on the deck, unless the prevailing winds turned suddenly warm.They would eat here in the kitchen, with whatever flowers the morning produced. Surely more lavender. A woman could never have enough lavender- or daylilies or astilbe, neither of which should bloom this early, but both of which had looked further along than the lavender, yesterday morning, so you never knew.”

“The important part of growing older was the growing part. Resisting change meant forever standing still, which was a sad way to live.”

“So where does that leave me? I like hosting the show....It’s become my identity. If that’s gone, where am I?”

“Home development is about wishful thinking. It's about capturing a dream.”

“It feels like forever, like he's lived through the same things as me, like our lives ran parallel for years until last week, when they finally intersected and fused.”

“What she did have, after raising two children, was the equivalent of a PhD in mothering and my undying respect.”

“The question was whether James would love me if I was someone else.”

“Especially at a time when one's life was new, roots helped.”

“When the truth emerges, it can’t be ignored. Nor will it wait.”

“Confrontation is what happens when you are less than honest and you get caught.”

“Some women are born with an instinct for knowing how things work—and what to do when they break.”