He catches the tone. Smirks. “One’s all I need.”
We pull the pizza from the oven. I cut slices. Hand Ethan his. He leans against the railing and eats while Ben explains yeast breathing.
And then Jess is braiding Ben’s hair. When did that happen? She’s sitting on the step stool now with Ben between her knees, those competent fingers working through the curls. Making something beautiful from disorder.
Ethan finishes his slice. Wipes his hands on a napkin. “This was great. But I’m out. Got another shift tonight.”
“Thanks for the kit,” Ben says.
“Anytime, kiddo.” He pauses at the door. Looks at me. “Good seeing you settled.”
There’s weight in those words. Approval maybe. Or warning. With Ethan it’s hard to tell.
He leaves.
The four of us are back. Me, Jess, Ben, andFrederick. Eating pizza on the rooftop as the city continues to light up around us.
Soon Ben is yawning. The crash is coming. Sugar and excitement wearing off.
“Bath time soon,” I announce.
“Aww. But I’m not tired.”
I smile. “You’re about to be.”
Jess helps clean up. We box the leftover pizza. Wash the bowls. Stack everything neatly. Order returns.
But something has shifted.
Something I can’t quite name.
When we’re done, Jess tucks a note into Ben’s lunchbox for tomorrow. The small gesture Rosa does now because I stopped having the bandwidth two years ago.
“What does it say?” I ask.
I assume it’s something along the lines of the usual notes Rosa writes:“You’re braver than you think.”
Jess glances up. Hesitates. Then shows me.
Keep growing brave, like pizza dough. You’re rising every day. - Jess & Frederick
Something in my chest cracks. It’s all I can do to control my quivering chin.
“That’s... good,” I manage.
“Rosa mentioned she does them, too. I thought maybe...” Jess trails off. “I can stop if it’s too much.”
“No. Don’t stop.” The words come out rougher than I intend. But I mean them.
This woman is taking over my house one ritual at a time.
And the terrifying part is I want her to.
“I was wrong,” I say again. Because apparently I need to say it twice.
“About what?”
“Mess. Control. All of it.” I’m looking at the planter boxes. At Isotta’s lemon tree still alive on the roof. “I thought if I kept everything structured, Ben would be okay. But she needed someone to show her that mess can be safe, too.”
