“You love it.”
He kissed her—warm and unhurried—and then he was gone too, leaving just Meg and Annain the living room with the remains of the brownies and the empty wine glasses.
“I’ll clean up,” Anna said.
“Happy to help,” Meg said.
They worked quietly for a few minutes—Meg washing, Anna drying, the rhythm familiar from a hundred childhood dishwashing sessions.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Anna asked. “Stella?”
“I think she’s tougher than she looks.”
“She’d have to be. Calling your mother to say you’re not coming home?” Anna shuddered. “I can’t imagine.”
“You can’t imagine leaving?”
“I can’t imagine having to choose.” Anna set a glass in the cupboard. “We got lucky, you know. With Margo. With having a place that always felt like home.”
Meg didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure “lucky” was the word she’d use—not when their own mother had wandered off to chase light across four continents, not when “home” had always felt like Margo’s gift rather than something they’d inherited naturally.
But Anna wasn’t wrong either. They did have a place. They did have people.
“Do you the phone call will go well?” Anna asked, changing the subject.
“I think it’s worth trying. They have to try.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
Meg handed her the last plate. “One step at a time.”
“You and your steps.”
“You and your leaps.”
Anna smiled. It was an old argument, worn smooth by years of repetition. But tonight, it felt less like an argument and more like a rhythm. Something they’d always done. Something that still worked.
“Thanks for letting us crash here,” Anna said. “Me and Bea. I know it’s a lot.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. It’s crowded and loud and I know I leave my brushes everywhere?—”
“Anna.”
“What?”
Meg turned off the water. Dried her hands on the dish towel. Looked at her sister.
“It’s fine,” she said. “Really. We’ve worked through all that.”
Anna held her gaze for a moment. Then nodded.
“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”
They finished cleaning up, and when Anna finally headed to the guest room, Meg stood in the kitchen alone, looking at the last brownie in the pan.
Three houses down, Tyler and Stella were probably lying awake, dreading the morning.
