“Everything,” Aleks adds, not looking up.
“Good,” Hank says. “Because eww.”
I stand between the two rooms at the end of the hall. One bigger, one smaller. Both stripped down to bare walls, mattresses leaning upright like they’re ashamed of themselves.
As they should be.
“Sofie’s handling clothes,” Aleks adds as he pulls the mattress off the wall. I grab the other side, and we pull it into the hall.
“Noelle’s bringing books.” Dash grins. “Which tracks.”
“Nalani said comfort,” Koa continues. “Blankets, pillows, all the things kids cling to.”
Aleks doesn’t smile. He doesn’t comment. He just goes back to dismantling the bed frame because they all think a king-size bed for a three-year-old is too much.
We finish up fast after the bed was taken down. Trash out. Rooms cleared.
When I walk out toward Dash’s vehicle, snow is coming down hard in that way that makes everything look softer than it really is. Like we’re living in a snow globe.
I hope when Hildy and her sister arrive, it feels that way to them.
I also know she isn’t a girl from the bar. She was the girl from the lecture. The one that should have bored me to death with conference talk, citations, and earnest intellectual enthusiasm. It would have been a complete snooze fest if I hadn’t met her.
If I hadn’t leaned in. If I hadn’t suggested a drink, away from the noise, away from the expectations, away from the version of myself that was born of ‘privilege’.
“You’re sure this isn’t going to be an issue?” Aleks murmurs, leaning in like we’re sharing classified intel.
“I told you I was mistaken. I’m one hundred percent certain she wasn’t a girl from the bar.”
His eyes narrow, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces.I wish him luck.
I nod toward the vehicle. “You going to stand there, or are you going to let me load the remains of Sterling’s shrine into his car?”
A loud whistle cuts through the air from the opposite direction. I make a mock gagging sound. Aleks’ gaze snaps back to me.
“You’re truly whipped,” I tell him. “Go. Your little woman is waiting.”
“Put the damn box down and come help the girls unload,” he calls over his shoulder before jogging off.
Of course, I feel a flicker of guilt for not telling him why I know Hildy isn’t who I’d thought she was. But it wasn’t a lie. It was 100% the truth.
Deacon laid it out for us when he dropped by earlier. “No spectacle. No weird energy. Claudia wants it quiet. Hildy already feels like she’s imposing, so she wants you guys to be normal. As close to a regular night as you idiots can manage.”
Hank nodded immediately. “So, no chants.”
“No chants,” Deacon confirmed.
“And no overcorrecting,” he adds, eyes flicking to me. “She doesn’t need to feel like anyone is doing her a favor. She wants Lucy to meet people, real people, ones who’ll be around.”
“Can Hank and I actually pass for real people?” I joke.
He rolls his eyes. “Lucy’s sharp. Claudia says she notices everything. So, whatever you’re doing, do it honestly.”
That was it. No more speech. No more warnings.
So, we’d prepped the house the same way we prep for a day off between games. And other than the outlet covers and the lackof a coffee table, the place is set without fuss. Nothing flashy and nothing that screams temporary.
Now we wait.
