She plants her hands on the counter, still looking a little shaky. But her eyes are still clear, and she watches me intently. When the water is warm enough, I help her down and give her ahand into the shower, closing the glass doors behind us so we’re sealed in with the steam against the rest of the world.
There’s no rush here. After days of her heat bearing down on all of us, we can take our time finally. I maneuver her beneath the spray, letting the water soak into her hair and skin, and then reach for her body wash.
I lather up her loofah and start soaping her up, taking her arms one by one, moving across her chest and down her stomach, and then around to her back.
She hums softly at all of it, letting me move her this way and that.
When she takes the loofah from me and starts soaping me up as well, I let her. There’s something quiet and intimate in it, and it feels good to have her hands roaming over me.
We wash each other’s hair, taking turns tipping our heads back under the spray and shielding each other’s faces from the water and suds.
It feels cleansing in a way that’s more than just us washing sweat and fluids off each other, and by the time we shut off the shower and get out to dry off, Harper looks more refreshed.
She looks like herself again, but happier. Lighter.
We get dressed and head back out to see Cash and Everett have left the bed and probably gone to take their own showers. The sheets will need to be changed and the room aired out, but for now, Harper and I go downstairs to the kitchen.
“Sit,” I tell her, pressing her into a chair at the kitchen table. “I’ll put the coffee on.”
“And breakfast?” she asks.
“And breakfast.”
I start the pot of coffee and do simple scrambled eggs with cheese and toast for breakfast. I don’t think anyone has the energy for anything more elaborate than that this morning, butit’s filling and hot, and when I set a mug and a plate in front of Harper, she tucks into the food like she’s starving.
Which she probably is, considering everything that’s happened the last few days.
She piles eggs onto the bread and crunches into it, making a noise of pleasure. I can remember the way she used to eat in front of us when she first came here, always hesitating like she was embarrassed for us to see her do something as common as eat a meal. It was just another aspect of her worrying about being too much or not enough, but now she doesn’t seem to be thinking about that at all.
Her appetite is uninhibited by any self-consciousness, and it makes me smile to see it.
Everett and Cash come down a bit later, still damp and toweling off their hair. They fill mugs and plates for themselves and then drop into their seats at the table, settling in with us.
There’s an ease to it that feels natural, even though it’s still new. It’s been the three of us for a while now, but adding Harper to the pack feels right.
She looks around the table like she can’t quite believe it’s real. Like any moment she might be thrown out or told it’s all some joke. Of course that doesn’t happen, and she seems to be letting herself believe that it won’t.
Or at least she’s more focused on clearing her plate than anything else at the moment.
We eat in companionable silence until Harper’s head snaps up with a soft, “Oh, fuck.”
All three of us immediately look at her with concern. “What is it?” I ask.
“Cora,” she says. “I—she’s okay?”
I nod. “My sister still has her. She’s been fine.”
There’s some relief in her face at that, but she chews on her lip. “I miss her. I want her here.” Her voice catches a little, and Iwonder if this is the longest they’ve been separated since Harper became her guardian.
It’s sweet, really, and I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone before Harper says anything else. She doesn’t ask twice. She doesn’t have to.
I call Lainey and tell her it’s time for Cora to come home.
By early afternoon, Cora is back in Harper’s arms, and all is right with the world. Harper’s eyes are wet, and Cora buries her face against Harper’s neck, hugging her tightly.
I stand back, watching as Harper drops to her knees and holds on to her niece, clinging like she might never let go again.
Cora recovers faster, clapping happily, probably completely unaware of how much her presence grounds all of us. The bliss of being four years old, I guess.