And there was probably a nightshade and dairy-free sandwich in there for her mother.Because Sadia’s been here while you’ve been gallivanting all over the world.
Funny how the critical voice in her head sounded like Paul.
“I’ll go put them away,” Sadia said.
Livvy jumped up. “I’ll help.” Sadia didn’t need help, most likely knew this kitchen as well as her own, but she’d take any opportunity to spend some time with her best friend. Sadia was always either working or with her son. Livvy’d barely seen her since she came home.
Sadia placed the tote on the round kitchen table and pulled out a smaller bag. If Livvy peeked, she’d probably see a number of pouches inside the huge tote, along with notebooks and pens. Sadia was ruthlessly organized. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing food over. We had some excess from lunch.”
Sadia operated Kane’s Café now, the place established by Livvy’s paternal grandparents. Robert had liked to joke he’d had his eye on Tani his entire life—a reference to the café’s location, right across from the original C&O store.
Her father had willed the local landmark to Paul directly, so Tani hadn’t been able to sell it when she purged the company and the house from their lives. Running a single café instead of a grocery chain had been a step down for her brother, but it seemed he’d been able to pull a tidy living together for their family.
She hadn’t been back to see Kane’s yet, though she had fond, warm memories of the place and her grandparents. It was one thing to deal with her mother and family. It was quite another to deal with... well, everything else.
Not all painful memories were created equal. And she wasn’t convinced confronting each one would be to her benefit.
Like Nicholas.
Or the café. Because if she went to the café, she’d have to see the flagship C&O. Or rather, Chandler’s, the building that had replaced the original after the fire.
“Please, how can I mind you bringing us ready-made food?” Livvy accepted the heavy bag and walked it over to the fridge. “I feel like I should be feeding you, though. You’re always running around.”
“Aw, don’t worry about that. I grabbed a sandwich before we left the house and made sure Kareem ate. He’s in this phase where he mostly survives on peanut butter and pickles and pizza.”
“You raising a kid or a pregnant woman?”
“I’m raising a pit. A bottomless one. Thanks for letting him stay here for the afternoon.”
Livvy shut the refrigerator door, then moved back to the sink. “No problem.” She was apprehensive about babysitting the kid herself, but Maile and her mother were here, and apparently they took care of Kareem quite a bit. Besides, she figured if she didn’t swear, drink, or let him do either of those things, she should be okay.
She poured her coffee into the sink and grabbed a sponge. Doing dishes as she used them felt weird to her—allowing them to pile up was more her speed—but there was no doubt something a little satisfying about having an empty, gleaming, stainless-steel sink.
Sadia pulled a planner and pen out of her bag and dropped into a seat at the table, stretching her long legs out. She flipped the book open. “So my sister will pick Kareem up at 6:30, okay?”
“Which sister? The doctor?”
“Haha. Very funny.”
Livvy grinned and scrubbed her mug. All four of Sadia’s sisters were either in medical school or physicians. “I try.”
“It’ll probably be Noor.”
“Sounds good. Are you working ’til closing?”
“Yes. We have a barista out sick. But then I have a shift at the bar, so Kareem will probably end up staying at Noor’s ’til late.”
Livvy shot a glance over her shoulder. Sadia was jotting something down in her planner, giving Livvy a chance to observe her. There were half-circles of exhaustion under her best friend’s eyes. Sadia never discussed finances, but Livvy’d assumed things were, if not great, at least manageable. “I didn’t realize you were still pulling shifts at the bar.”
“Part-time.” Sadia closed her planner with a snap. “It keeps my bartending skills sharp. You need something to fall back on.”
Sadia’s tone was light, and Livvy couldn’t detect any hint of a lie. Still, she pressed. “You’re doing okay with the café, right?”
“Sure.” Sadia raised an eyebrow. “A more important question is, are you doing okay with Mom?”
Sadia calling their mother “Mom” had given Livvy more than some comfort over the years. Paul hadn’t wanted to talk to her and Jackson had been mostly unreachable. It had felt like she’d had a real sibling. “Yeah, sure. I mean, we don’t talk much, but then, she’s never been a talker.”
“A person doesn’t need to talk much to be difficult.”
