She'd raised three children and buried a husband and navigated eight decades of life and had known that sometimes the best thing to do was sit with someone in silence, without forcing them to say anything before they could find the words for whatever they were carrying.
"Nick had a reaction tonight," I said finally. "Hives. Severe enough that we ended up in the emergency room."
"Is he all right?"
"He's fine now. The hospital gave him IV antihistamines." I turned the mug in my hands. "But Sedona's cream wasn't there. The one she made for his skin. She took it when she left, and the alternatives made it worse, and I didn't—" I stopped. "I didn't know enough. About his skin, his specific needs. I knew the broad outlines but not the details, because it wasn't something that i had bothered t
