“I told you when we divorced that I’d pay child support and see them when I could, but I didn’t want custody then, and I don’t want custody now. Victoria and I have a lifestyle that doesn’t . . .” He paused. “Why are you going back to Comfort, anyway, and at this time of year? Can’t you do what’s best for the kids and at least stay in Austin until summer?”

“I am doing what’s best for them. I caught your daughter smoking pot in the public library bathroom two days ago, and I just now found out that your son has been sneaking out at night to smoke and drink with his little preteen buddies. So I’m taking them out of the city, and they aren’t getting their phones or tablets for a long time.” Lily carried the phone into the next room. “If you think you can do better with them, maybe they could spend some quality time with you that involves more than taking them to dinner every six months, or to a hotel for a couple of days while Victoria is off somewhere on one of her business trips.”

“Good God!” he gasped. “I wouldn’t know what to do with them, and believe me, Miami is worse than Austin.”

“Then Comfort it is,” Lily said.

“Good luck,” Wyatt muttered, and the call ended.

Lily returned and dropped the phone into the tote bag she had sitting on the end table. Then she turned to face Holly and Braden, who were still pouting on the sofa. “I expect all your electronic devices to be in that bag in ten minutes.”

Holly groaned and Braden moaned at the same time.

“Until you earn the right to have your phones back, you can talk to your father when he calls on the house phone in Comfort. Oh, and FYI, it’s a corded phone that hangs on the kitchen wall. Since you won’t have anything else to do this afternoon, you can start packing. Set your alarms for six thirty in the morning.”

Braden pulled his phone out of his hip pocket and dropped it in the bag. He looked longingly at it, as if he were looking at his best friend lying in a casket. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and started down the hall toward his bedroom. “What am I supposed to pack in?”

“The moving company is bringing boxes in . . .” Lily paused when she heard a truck outside. “Looks like they’re here now. You’ll have your own bedroom in Comfort, but we’ll all have to share one bathroom. So remember that. And one more thing—if either of you ever call me a bitch again, I’ll add another punishment to the list. Believe me, it will be something I can guarantee you will hate worse than giving up all your devices. Now, you can bring your tablets, your video games, and your laptops to me.”

“Our laptops, too? That’s not fair,” Holly whined.

“Fair flew out the window like the smoke you were blowing in the library, Holly,” Lily said, “and was drained like the beer you were drinking, Braden.”

“I can’t survive without my own bathroom.” Holly’s whining took on a whole new level. “I refuse to share one with Braden.” She jumped up from the sofa and glared at her brother.

“Sorry, princess.” Lily used the same nickname that Wyatt had given their daughter before she was big enough to walk. “It’s either share one with me and Braden or else you can use the one that’s out behind the storage shed. No one will fight you if you want that one. It was still standing the last time I was home. Just remember to take toilet paper with you.”

“I hate that house! I hate Comfort! I hate—” Holly’s mouth snapped shut.

“And right now you hate me, but that’s all right. I love you both, but I don’t like either of you very much today,” Lily finished for her. “And for your information, I hate leaving this apartment, too. I hate leaving my clients, my few friends, and our church. I hate that you and your brother’s misbehavior has made this move necessary. So, darlin’ girl, I don’t have much sympathy for you right now.” She pointed down the hall. “Go pack. If you ever even think about smoking another joint, I’ll homeschool you, and you’ll have no social life at all.”

“Not that there’ll be much of a possibility for a social life up there in the middle of nowhere, anyway,” Holly grumbled, and started down the hallway at a snail’s pace.

Lily remembered feeling the same way about Comfort when she was growing up in the small town. Her family lived three miles south of town, and they’d only had one vehicle, which her dad took to work every day. That hadn’t left much opportunity for the kind of socializing her kids were accustomed to having.

I think your words were that you couldn’t wait to go to college and get away from Comfort and all its prying eyes. Her mother’s voice in her head scolded her, but just imagining Vera Miller’s sweet voice took the sting out of the words.

“And now, after twenty years, I’m going right back to it,” she whispered.

Welcome home, baby girl. You should never have left. Vera’s voice was so real that Lily’s mother could have been in the room with her.

“You got that right.” Lily went to the front door and opened it before the doorbell even had time to ring.

An older guy with a rim of gray hair around his otherwise-bald head brought in an armload of flat boxes, dropped them in the corner of the living room, and left her six rolls of packing tape. “You do know that we’ll be glad to pack everything for you?” he asked.

“We’re not moving out permanently—at least not yet. These should be enough for now. See you early tomorrow morning.”

“Not me, but Skipper will be here to load up for you. Y’all have a safe trip.” He nodded toward her, and she closed the door behind him.

She glanced around the large living room in her apartment and sighed. She had rented the place because of that feature—lots of space so she could be with the kids more. At first, it had been great—they did their homework in the living room while she made supper. They ate around the table every evening, and they played games together. A little bit at a time, that all got away from her somehow, and a few months ago, she’d realized she was eating alone and the kids were spending all their time in their rooms or with their friends.

With another long sigh, she took stock of what had to be moved. Her lease wasn’t up until June, and her mother’s old house was still fully furnished, so the furniture would stay. If she had a pickup truck, she could probably move what they packed in it, but her compact car wouldn’t hold it all.

She picked up two of the flat boxes, folded them into shape, sealed them with tape, and carried them down the hall. She knocked on Holly’s door but didn’t wait for an invitation to enter. “Here’s your first box. When you get it filled, call me, and I’ll tape it shut and get you another one.”

Holly turned away from the window. “I’m sorry. I’ll do the dishes by hand for a year. I’ll never smoke weed again. I’ll even miss the parties this weekend.”

“Thank you for the offer,” Lily said, “but the weed was the last straw, not the first one. You’ve been getting more and more belligerent and disrespectful. I’d expect some of that out of a senior in high school, but not a freshman. We’re moving to Comfort. It’s up to you and your brother whether we come back to Austin for the next school year, or if we stay there until both of you graduate.”