Claire's eyes met mine over Millie's head. "Did he?"
"I may have mentioned it to Mrs. Lee," I said, keeping my voice neutral.
"That was thoughtful."
"I have my moments."
We moved to the breakfast nook, deliberately not the formal dining room. The smaller space felt more intimate, more familiar. Mrs. Lee had outdone herself: roast chicken, roasted vegetables, fresh bread. Simple but perfect.
"This looks amazing," Claire said, settling into her chair. "I usually have cereal for Sunday dinner."
"Cereal is not dinner, Miss Claire," Millie informed her seriously.
"It is when you're tired, and your cooking skills suck."
"Daddy's cooking skills suck, too," Millie offered. "He burns water."
"That's physically impossible," I protested.
"He tried to make me mac and cheese once." Millie's eyes went wide. "The smoke alarm went off three times."
Claire pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. "Three times?"
"It was a learning experience," I said with as much dignity as I could muster.
"Learning that you should never cook again?"
"Learning that Mrs. Lee deserves a significant raise."
Claire laughed; it was warm and unguarded. I'd started cataloging the sound like a miser counting coins. Millie beamed at having made us both laugh, and the tightness in my body loosened. This was what dinner should feel like. Easy. Warm. Real.
"And then the cloud looked like a dinosaur eating a sandwich," Millie announced twenty minutes later, gesturing with her fork.
"A sandwich?" Claire leaned in. "What kind?"
"Peanut butter. Obviously."
"Obviously. Dinosaurs are known for their peanut butter preferences."
"You're silly, Miss Claire."
"I prefer 'imaginative.'"
I watched them together, their easy conversation and laughs, and was overcome by two different feelings: a warm, careless joy, and a sharp guilt that this closeness existed because I'd been too absent to provide it myself.
The temperature dropped ten degrees when Victoria appeared.
"Well." She stood in the doorway, her expression flickering from surprise to calculation in half a second. "What a cozy gathering."
"Victoria." I kept my voice neutral. "Would you like to join us?"
"How could I refuse such a warm invitation?" She slid into the empty chair, her smile brittle. "I didn't realize we were entertaining tonight."
"Claire was helping Millie with a math concept," I said smoothly. "I thought dinner was the least we could offer."
"How generous." Victoria's gaze swept over Claire's casual clothes, her loose hair. "Though I do hope we're not keeping you from anything important, Miss Cross. Sunday evenings can be so precious."
"I'm exactly where I want to be," Claire said, her voice pleasant but firm.
