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fished a couple of forks out of the utensil drawer. “I was trying to surprise you.”
    â€œI can see that,” her mom said. “And I’m very grateful.”
    They decided to eat in the dining room instead of the breakfast bar, to make the morning feel even more special. Gigi’s mom took out two wineglasses and poured the juice into them. “Look at us,” she said, “being all fancy.”
    Gigi speared a couple of blueberries on her fork. “I wanted to thank you for last night.”
    â€œWhat about last night?”
    She gave her mom a knowing look. “I was sad, and then I wasn’t. Because of you—and Singin’ in the Rain . Just let me say thanks, okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    After breakfast, Gigi’s mom insisted on doing the dishes. Gigi, uncharacteristically, insisted on drying.
    The two stood side by side, listening to the soundtrack to South Pacific as they worked. Gigi’s mother hummed along to “I’m Gonna Wash that Man Right Outa My Hair.” Only instead of smiling, Gigi’s mother looked terribly sad.
    â€œYou okay?” Gigi asked her.
    â€œWhat? Yes, of course. I’m fine.”
    â€œYou don’t look fine,” Gigi pointed out. “You look like someone kidnapped your dog.”
    Gigi’s mother laughed. “Oh, Gee. You know your mama too well. To be honest, I was just thinking aboutDaddy. I miss him so much, sometimes I feel like my heart is actually aching.”
    This caught Gigi by surprise. The past year had been rough on her, what with her father always getting on another plane. But her mom never seemed to mind all that much. Sure, she told Gigi’s dad that she couldn’t wait for him to get back, and she got extrahappy the day before he flew home. Other than that, though . . . sometimes Gigi wondered if her mom even realized her dad was gone.
    â€œYou’re always so busy,” she said. “I didn’t know you had time to miss Dad.”
    â€œWhy do you think I’m always so busy?” her mother countered. “Less time to think.”
    â€œOh.”
    Gigi’s mom shut off the faucet and dried her hands on a tea towel. “Before your dad took this job, we all talked about what it would be like, remember?”
    Gigi nodded. Her dad had called a family meeting so that they could have a Big Important Conversation about it. He and her mom took turns pointing out all of the ways their lives would be different with her dad traveling sixty percent of the time. It made Gigi sad to think of her dad away for such long stretches, but when he listed some of the destinations—London, Paris, Madrid—well,Gigi thought this new job couldn’t sound any cooler.
    But now that her mother mentioned it . . . it hadn’t been until after her dad took this job that Mom had started teaching yoga twice a week, and volunteering at Dress for Success, this place that provided low-income women with suits and stuff for job interviews.
    Over the past year, Gigi’s mom had taken a lot of classes too—Investing in the Stock Market, Container Gardening, Conversational Spanish. And scrapbooking! Her mom had dabbled in it before, but now she was hard-core. Some nights Ms. Marian would come over with all of her gear and the two of them would take over the dining room, working on their albums for hours. She and Finley loved it, though; they’d camp out in front of the TV, watching movies until way past their normal weekend bedtime.
    â€œYou know,” her mom said, “you could take a page out of my book.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    Her mother reached over and tucked some of Gigi’s curls behind her ear. “The first few times Dad was away, I felt really sad, and even a little lonely. I tried not to show it, because I knew the transition was difficult for you. But when you weren’t around, I was kind of a sad mopey.”
    â€œAnd?” Gigi