That morning, sunlight poured through Debbie’s bedroom window, lighting up the orchids on her nightstand. As she pinned back her silver hair, Cody watched from the doorway, reminded of the countless mornings she’d helped him get ready for school when he was a child.

“You don’t need to fuss, Gran—it’s just a date,” he joked gently. She smiled in the mirror. “A lady always dresses for a date, even if it’s with her grandson.”