But her slide seemed to have slowed and halted since she’d begun yoga classes last fall. He’d noticed a new spring in her step over the past few months.

Tall and trim—John’s father had been tall, as well— and just beginning to develop a dowager’s hump, she still took impeccable care of herself, keeping her thinning white hair softly permed; she was never without a touch of pink lipstick, even this early in the day. Her natural high coloring accentuated the blue of her eyes.

She didn’t have a full closet but she bought good quality clothing and then wore it to death. No housecoats, no polyester, and God forbid she ever appeared in an outfit that didn’t match. This morning she wore lightweight wool beige slacks and a blue-and-beige turtleneck.

Katie popped the pill into her mouth and washed it down with a gulp of orange juice. The tablets were chewable but she’d never liked the flavor, so she’d learned to swallow them whole. She was an old pro at it by now.

One of those tablets, twice a day, every day, for… how long? John wished he knew. He did know what would happen if she missed a dose or two.

His throat tightened and he had to reach out and touch her, smooth some fly away strands of her shiny, dark hair. So fine… baby fine. Nana combed out the knots every morning and braided it into a pair of pigtails. Katie tended to prefer a single, looser French braid like the bigger girls‘, but Nana didn’t think that was neat enough. Nana liked things neat.

Katie looked at him. “What’s the matter, Daddy?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“You look funny.”

He crossed his eyes. “Is this better?”

“No!” She laughed. “Now you look goofy!”

“And he will look even goofier,” Nana said, ever the voice of reason, “if you miss your bus and he has to drive you to school.”

John checked his watch and got to his feet. “Can’t do that. Got an appointment with Tom this morning.”