"You're lucky," she'd said. "Someone cared enough to collect your things and bring them to you."
"I never knew it had been Cal," I say, just as I hear Hannah step out of the guest room down the hall.
"Elle?" she murmurs, rubbing an eye with her fist. "Can we watch cartoons?"
"Of course we can," I say, already scooping her into my arms. "Did you sleep okay?"
"I slept like a princess," she says, a sleepy grin spreading across her face.
"Of course you did," Beth teases, reaching over to tickle Hannah, her giggles filling the room.
***
I place the platter of blueberry waffles on the table, next to the fluffy scrambled eggs and crispy bacon. After pouring myself a steaming cup of coffee, I fill a cup with milk for Hannah and pour orange juice for Beth.
"Yummy!" Hannah exclaims, her face lighting up. "I love waffles!"
"I know you do," I say, taking a sip of my coffee. "They're your dad's favorite too."
"Can you teach Mommy how to make me breakfast?" she asks, her eyes wide and full of hope.
Beth glances at me, her fork halfway to her mouth, before she takes a bite of eggs without saying a word.
I can’t help myself. "Does your mommy cook for you?" I ask, knowing I might regret the question the moment it leaves my lips.
Hannah looks up at the ceiling, as if she’s trying to remember something that doesn’t quite exist. "Nope!" she declares, her mouth full of waffles. "Daddy cooks, Grandma cooks, Uncle Thomas cooks, Mommydoes notcook."
Beth’s giggle bursts out just as she takes a drink of juice, causing some to squirt from her lips before she can stop it. She quickly grabs a napkin, wipes her mouth, and throws her head back in laughter.
"What about Gabby?" I ask, my tone hopeful.
"I forgot about Gabby," Hannah murmurs. "Gabby made me pancakes, French toast, and an egg with veggies in the middle."
"An omelet?" Beth asks, still trying to catch her breath from laughing.
"Yes, an omelet," Hannah repeats. "I like those too!"
The loud ring of the doorbell cuts through our conversation, abrupt and unexpected, like an uninvited guest.
Beth and I exchange a puzzled glance, both wondering who would be showing up this early on a Saturday morning.
"I’ll get it," Beth offers, already heading toward the door.
"Where’s Hannah?!" Meghan’s voice cuts through the air, sharp and angry.
"Mommy!" Hannah calls out, her voice sweet and cheerful as she recognizes her mom. "I’m eating waffles and eggs. Want some?"
"Hi, Hannah Banana," Meghan says, her tone shifting instantly to calm and measured as she steps inside. "Bethy, why don’t you take Hannah and help her pack an overnight bag? I’m taking her home with me."
"Hannah is spending the weekend with me," I say, holding Meghan’s stare, unblinking.
"Cal isn’t here," Meghan replies, as though his absence is some sort of crime. "Go ahead, Beth. Now."
Beth looks at me, and I nod. "I think her bag is still on the chair in the bedroom. There are a few more things in the chest. Pack whatever she needs."
"Okay," Beth says flatly, extending her hand to Hannah.
As they head upstairs, Meghan’s gaze returns to me, her brows furrowed, her eyes brimming with disdain.
