Another Piece of My Heart by Jane Green Page A

quickly became inseparable. Tess brought her new clients and had Andi decorate her den so she could show her off to others and bring in new business.
    They went together to Deanna’s yoga class after Deanna posted flyers around the school, and stood chatting with her for almost an hour after the class, decided then and there they would all have to get together.
    Five years later, these women, together with Isabel and Drew and Topher next door, are Andi’s family, although Tess has removed her children from the public school and sent them to Greenwood, so they see her less and less. Andi misses her, but Deanna has stepped in to fill the void, and Andi thinks of her as the sister she never had.
    These women, together with Ethan, were the ones who surrounded her and eased her pain when her mother died. Andi thought she was prepared, had accepted that this time her mother couldn’t win the fight. She flew to Connecticut to say her good-byes, holding her mother and whispering words of love, hoping that, despite the coma, her mother might be able to hear, hoping everyone was ready.
    But how can you ever prepare for the loss of your mother?
    Andi flew back home after three weeks, and found herself sinking into a deep well of grief. Those women, and Deanna in particular, brought her trays of lasagna and chicken Marbella, drove the girls to their classes, sat and drank wine with her as she cried what felt like a never-ending river of tears.
    Who is left, after all? No brothers and sisters, no grandparents, just her father, still in Connecticut, in the house that held all the memories of years gone by.
    He is Grandpa O now, to everyone who knows him. The stern but loving father of her youth has been replaced with a little old man who is soft and smiley, whose eyes crinkle when he catches sight of the girls, particularly Sophia. He might be in his late eighties, but he is sprightly and spry, still managing to visit “his beloved girls” twice a year.
    Andi had never thought about how not having her own children might have impacted her parents, until seeing them with her stepchildren. They were so loving, so warm, so entirely accepting, it filled her with a fresh sense of longing.
    “I’m Grandpa O,” her father introduced himself, not thinking for a moment that he should be anything other than a grandpa, nor treated by them as anything other than a biological grandparent.
    “And I’m Granny J,” her mother had said. There had never been any question of their being anything else. To Andi’s amazement, they had morphed from the formal, reserved, rather awkward parents of her own childhood, to wonderful, warm, natural grandparents who showered the girls with love.
    And the things Andi found so different as a child—the way they always treated her like a grown-up; the questions with which they bombarded her; the expectations they had of her being able to discuss grown-up affairs—the girls loved.
    Especially Emily.
    Granny J recognized the difficulties with Emily, saw how much Emily struggled with accepting Andi, yet she never treated Emily with anything other than love. Emily, in turn, adored her.
    On the day she returned to California, after her mother’s death, Andi curled up in bed, in the fetal position, and cried. She heard the bedroom door open, felt Ethan sit on the bed, stroking her back, for a long, long time. Eventually, when her sobs abated to lurching hiccups, then finally calm, Andi turned to thank Ethan, who hadn’t stopped stroking her back the entire time.
    But it wasn’t Ethan. It was Emily, with tears streaming down her face. Andi had taken her in her arms, and this time it was Andi’s turn to comfort Emily.
    Her mother’s death left a hole Andi hadn’t anticipated. During the illness, she thought she was prepared for the end. Andi had lived on another coast for years, was used to not having her parents be part of her daily life. She would speak to them on the phone a couple of times a week, but days