I looked at her.
“The pact,” she said. “We should rehearse.”
Kitty’s eyes lit up. “Oh, absolutely.”
I stared at them. “You want to rehearse extracting each other from conversations.”
“Yes,” Kitty said.
Meri nodded.“Briefly.”
Kitty jumped up and pointed at me. “Okay. I am Collin.”
I groaned.“No.”
“Too late,” she said, already puffing herself up. “Lydia, might I trouble you for a word—”
“Meri,” I said quickly.
Meri stood immediately. “Lydia is needed in the kitchen.”
“Urgently,” Kitty added, breaking character to grin.
Meri took my arm and steered me three steps away.
I burst out laughing. “That was fast.”
“Efficiency is key,” Meri said.
Kitty resumed her Collin posture. “But surely—”
“Kitty, it’s your turn,” Meri said calmly.
Kitty grabbed my other arm. “Bathroom emergency.”
We dissolved into laughter again, the sound bouncing off the walls.
“Okay,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I feel safer already.”
“That’s the point,” Meri said, reclaiming her seat.
The apartment settled again, quieter now, cozier. I felt the day finally starting to loosen its grip.
“I’m proud of you,” Meri said suddenly.
Kitty nodded.“Yeah.Me too.”
I swallowed. “Thank you.”
“For the truck,” Kitty clarified. “And for not letting today beat you.”
I nodded, the words landing deeper than she probably realized.
Eventually, the conversation drifted. Kitty started talking about ribbon colors. Meri reopened her book. I leaned back and let the sound of them fill the room.
When I finally stood to go to bed, my body felt heavy in the best way. Earned tiredness from an honest effort.
Tomorrow wouldbe busy. The float still wasn’t built. Collin was still downstairs, still watching, still waiting.
