The scent of fried chicken hit Remi the minute she stepped through the door. Sade’s smooth voice floated through the house, wrapping around her like an old friend. In the kitchen she found Mila at the stove, nervously flipping chicken, jumping each time the grease popped. Zoe was beside her, stirring something in a large bowl.
“What in the world is going on in here?” Remi froze, taking in the scene—flour all over the counters and some on the floor, and dishes stacked high in the sink.
“We’re making you dinner.” Mila made the announcement cheerfully.
Zoe looked up from whatever she was mixing. “We wanted to surprise you, Mom. You deserve it.”
“Yeah,” Mila chimed in. “So just go in there and relax, put your feet up. We got you.”
“That’s very sweet of you both, but—”
“Mom,” Zoe cut in, firm but loving. “Let us take care of you, like you always take care of us.”
“Do you want to hear something else—something a little more upbeat?” Zoe nodded toward the Bluetooth speaker. “I mean, Sade can be depressing sometimes.”
“Music’s fine.” She raised an eyebrow at her daughter and said, “And Sade is not depressing. She’s … passionate.”
Zoe giggled. “If you say so.”
Remi smiled and did as she was told. She sank onto the livingroom couch as the fire swayed to the music from the fireplace. She slipped off her shoes and stretched out her legs. From the kitchen she could hear the clatter of utensils and the girls’ laughter in between the sizzle of frying chicken.
She closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in—the music, the smells, the unexpected care from the girls. She smiled. When she opened her eyes Mila called from the kitchen, “Do you like garlic mashed potatoes or roasted ones?”
Remi smiled. “Either. I trust the chefs.”
Mila grinned and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Watching Mila move around in the kitchen the way Gerard used to unnerved Remi—just a little. Her thoughts moved to an uncomfortable place, but she willed them back. She didn’t want to ruin the girls’ surprise with thoughts of Bianca and Gerard—and their betrayal. And she certainly did not want their betrayal to change the way she thought of Mila—the girl she’d loved since the day she was born. The child she had watched take her first steps. The teenager she’d talked to about her menstrual cycle because she started it while spending the weekend at her house. She loved her, and that wouldn’t change—but she couldn’t control these thoughts that constantly clouded her brain.
A few minutes later Zoe appeared with a glass of wine. “Your favorite,” she said, offering it.
Remi took it. She was touched. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.”
Zoe nodded, cocked her head to the side playfully. “Just love us.”
“I do love you,” Remi said. “I’ve been really busy with the winery lately. It’s nice to relax.”
Zoe flopped onto the couch beside her, curling her legs under her. “That’s why we’re doing it. Tonight, no emails. No calls. No vineyard stuff.”
“Vineyard stuff?”Remi laughed. “Okay, okay. I surrender.”
Just then, a loud pop came from the kitchen, followed by Mila’s yelp.
“I’m okay!” she called out. “Just some aggressive grease.”
Remi and Zoe exchanged a look, then burst into laughter.
The music shifted to another Sade classic—slow, sultry, and familiar. The house was full of noise, full of mess and full of love. It was exactly what she needed.
They decided to eat in the formal dining room and pulled out the good china, which the girls appreciated, making them feel as if their meal was special. The room was filled with lively conversation and laughter. The girls knew that something was amiss between Remi and Bianca, but they didn’t bring it up—didn’t ask any questions—not yet.
“Mom … question,” Zoe began.
Remi froze.Here it was, she thought. The questions about Remi’s and Bianca’s fight.
“I’m listening,” said Remi.
“Say you have this friend—” Zoe said.