His mother, Grace, loved him in that steady, watchful way mothers love only sons.
She did not smother him, but she noticed everything.
If Ethan sounded tired, she knew.
If he skipped dinner, she knew.
If I wore a new dress, she complimented it before Ethan even saw it.
« You got a good one, » she told me once, while helping me choose centerpieces.
« I know, » I said.
Grace looked at me for a long moment. « No, honey. I mean he got a good one. »
I never forgot that.
Five days before our wedding, I was at the venue going over the final details.
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