The cemetery lies at the top of the escarpment and when Sharanne walks towards her dad’s grave, she glimpses the bay through white birch trunks. She has always loved this place. In high school she would cut along a dirt path bordering the cliff’s edge before doubling back along the old railbed with the cross-country team. Today she sinks to the ground beside Norm McKinnon’s headstone and remembers her seventeen year old body – how her legs were strong and the slightest injury healed in a few days.

Tracing her dad’s name on the smooth stone she sighs. “So, this is a bit different from the last time…”

She was nineteen, standing at the kitchen table with Lorne behind her. In her high school yearbook she’d been nominated “most likely to bust a move”, a designation she’d read as both an endorsement and a condemnation of her independent spirit.

“Dad…” Why couldn’t she get the words out?

She was settled now. Lorne was happy; the store was in good hands. Someday Ella would inherit the building… so what was the big deal? Had he been living, had things been different, Norm McKinnon would have hand-picked Chuck Dalrymple for his only daughter. Chuck had his own business, times had changed, and his daughter had plans…

“ I came to tell you I’m having a baby.”

She touched her belly. Soon people would notice her cheeks getting rounder. And before that happened she had to tell Ella. But how do you tell the child who has been the very centre of your life that everything was about to change?

“I could really use one your hugs right now.”

Just then , Sharanne heard rustling in the pond behind her. A heron tilted its head towards her, blinked and took flight.