“You never gain an ounce. It’s annoying.”

 “Feel soft.” He rolled his shoulders, then his eyes, whiskey brown like hers, and laughed. “Besides, I gotta keep up with my mama.”

 He looked like her. There was no denying she’d stamped herself on his face. But when he smiled, she saw his father. “That’ll be the day, pal of mine. How far you going?”

 “How far’d you?”

 “Three miles.”

 He flashed a grin. “Then I’ll do four.” He gave her a light pat on the cheek as he passed.

 “Should’ve told him five, just to get his goat.” She chuckled, and slowing to a cool-down walk, started down the drive.

 The house shimmered out of the mists. She thought: Thank God that’s over for another day. And she circled around to go in as she’d left.

 The house was still quiet, and lovely. And haunted.

 She’d showered and changed for work, and had started down the central stairs that bisected the wings when she heard the first stirrings.

 Stella’s boys getting ready for school, Lily fussing for her breakfast. Good sounds, Roz thought. Busy, family sounds she’d missed.

 Of course, she’d had the house full only a couple weeks earlier, with all her boys home for Thanksgiving and her birthday. Austin and Mason would be back for Christmas. A mother of grown sons couldn’t ask for better.

 God knew there’d been plenty of times when they were growing up that she’d yearned for some quiet. Just an hour of absolute peace where she had nothing more exciting to do than soak in a hot tub.

 Then she’d had too much time on her hands, hadn’t she? Too much quiet, too much empty space. So she’d ended up marrying some slick son of a bitch who’d helped himself to her money so he could impress the bimbos he’d cheated on her with.

 Spilled milk, Roz reminded herself. And it wasn’t constructive to dwell on it.

 She walked into the kitchen where David was already whipping something in a bowl, and the seductive fragrance of fresh coffee filled the air.