Standing there, Lydia was strangely alert, as if she were taking in the kitchen for the first time.

Marilyn didn't think about missing those first steps, or how grown up her daughter had become.

The thought that flashed through her mind wasn't How did I miss it?

but What else have you been hiding?

Nath had pulled up and wobbled and tipped over and toddled right in front of her, but she didn't remember Lydia even beginning to stand.

Yet she seemed so steady on her bare feet, tiny fingers just peeking from the ruffled sleeve of her romper.

Marilyn often had her back turned, opening the refrigerator or turning over the laundry.

Lydia could have begun walking weeks ago, while she was bent over a pot, and she would not have known.

She had scooped Lydia up and smoothed her hair and told her how clever she was, how proud her father would be when he came home.

But she'd felt as if she'd found a locked door in a familiar room: Lydia,?still small enough to cradle, had secrets.