When her doorbell rang at lunchtime on a Wednesday afternoon, Margaret Scully wasn't thrilled by her prospects. At worst she expected a magazine salesman, at best her next door neighbor dropping by to bum another cup of gourmet coffee. She was deeply engrossed in taking a day at home for herself. No volunteer hours at the local women's shelter. No lunch dates with friends. No yard work. No snow to shovel. No shopping to be done. She wasn't relishing the thought of unexpected company. Until she pushed noncommittally onto her tip toes and squinted through the peep hole of her front door.

She turned the knob and pulled back the door. "Dana! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?"

Margaret's youngest daughter stood on her doorstep, dressed to the nines as always, hands on her hips, a gentle smile gracing her lips. Despite her affectioinate smile, Dana's eyes still held the prevailing sadness that had clouded that clear blue these past few months. "Hi, Mom," she said softly. "Is this a bad time?"

Maggie pulled her inside and into her arms for a quick tight embrace. "No, honey, not at all. What's wrong?"

Dana took a step back and lifted her eyebrows as Margaret closed the door. "What, I can't drop by to visit my Mom for no reason?"

"Of course you can, Dana. Always. So...what's wrong?"