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The little girl in me wants to call my big brother and see if he has any advice. But I shut her up. I’m not in the mood to listen to the litany of I told you so’s Alex will have ready to fire off. He won’t be able to help himself.

I certainly haven’t needed to call and ask him for anything, either. Rooster and Jigsaw have stopped by with groceries whenever we’ve needed something. Teller said they didn’t trust any of the prospects enough to send them to our house, which I appreciated. Charlotte brought over some of the more personal items I didn’t feel like asking the guys to buy.

First thing in the morning, I burn off some energy in the pool. When that’s not enough, I let Rock know I need to go to the grocery store.

“You mind if I send Teller with you?”

I appreciate him asking, even though I think Teller will be tagging along whether I want him to or not.

“As long as he doesn’t mind.”

“I’ll go with you too,” Hope offers.

Teller grabs the keys to Rock’s SUV since the kids’ seats are already strapped-in. It’s like herding cats to get the kids situated.

“I feel like we need a few more adults for supervision.” Hope laughs as she finishes strapping Grace in and backs out of the car. “Oh!” She bumps into Rock.

“I’ll go with you, baby doll.” He places his hands on her hips and kisses her cheek.

Emptiness, and a longing for Z, turns my stomach inside out and I avert my eyes.

“Can’t be apart for more than five minutes?” Teller says, tossing the keys to Rock.

“You’re still going.” Rock nods to the passenger side door.

Hope’s nervous laughter covers the awkwardness between the two men. I just want to get going.

“Where to?” Rock asks.

“I haven’t really gotten used to any of the places down here yet.” The list of things I want isn’t complicated, but a few ingredients might not be easy to find at a regular market.

I open an app on my phone to show him the store I had in mind and he taps the address into the GPS.

At the store, Teller stays in the car with the kids while Rock escorts us inside.

“I just need cereal and milk,” Hope says. “Want to meet up front when you’re done?”

Thank God. I’d been worried they were going to follow me all over the store. This whole experience is already weird enough.

On some strange sort of autopilot, I cruise around for items I haven’t shopped for since I was a kid following my mother around the grocery store. I can’t shake the feeling I’m forgetting something so I end up looking up a few recipes on my phone.

Maybe an hour later, I think I have everything I need. Even though the guys say not to worry about it, I hate having so many people in and out of my house without feeding them properly.

Plus, I apparently have lots of free time now.

“Get everything you needed?” Hope asks, casting a quick glance at my cart, overflowing with bags.

“I didn’t leave much on the shelves.”

“Come on.” Rock nudges her arm. “Let’s make sure Knucklehead and the kids are okay.”

“That sounds like a biker band,” Hope quips, making Rock chuckle.

“Looks like more than cereal, Hope.” I nod to the bags Rock’s carrying. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything in the house. I should’ve—”

“Stop, Lilly. It’s fine. Geez, if anything, we’re imposing on you. Isn’t there some sort of saying about fish and house guests should be gone after three days?”

Rock snorts.

“You’re more than house guests, Hope.” I don’t want to break down in the supermarket parking lot and tell her that I don’t think I could make it through this without her.

Teller jumps out when he sees us and opens the back. “The little people were just about to stage a mutiny.”

My attempts to help the guys load the car are brushed off, so I peek my head in the truck. “You being good?” I ask Chance.

He nods while Alexa shakes her head.

Laughing, I climb in and Hope gets in on the other side.

“Was he okay?” I ask Teller once we’re headed home.

“They were fine until maybe two minutes before you guys came out.”

“Sorry.”

He shrugs. “Long time to ask them to wait.” He elbows Rock. “Grandpa here could join the twenty-first century and put those DVD players back there to use.”

“Yeah, that’s what kids need. More television. What happened to enjoying the scenery?” Rock says, waving his arm out the open window.

Hope smothers a laugh while she tucks Grace’s blanket around her.

“Actually, I agree with Rock. I try to limit Chance’s screen time as much as possible.”

Teller turns toward me. “Not helpful, Lilly.”

“You need me to set you up back there with some SpongeBob SquarePants?” Rock asks, slapping Teller’s leg. “Is that what I’m hearing, knucklehead?”

Teller shakes with uncontrollable laughter and finally squeezes out a “No.”

Once we’re home, and I’m staring at the bags littering every inch of kitchen counter, I wonder if I overestimated myself.

Chapter Eight

Lilly

“What were you planning to make?” Hope asks.

“A few different things.” I’m not sure I want an audience. In case I suck at it.

As if she sensed my mood, Hope leaves to put Grace down for a nap, leaving me free to search the kitchen.

One of the things I brought down from my house was my favorite cast-iron pan. I haven’t had a chance to use it since we’ve been here, but I drag it out now and brush some oil over it.

The batter is easy to make, but it takes a couple tries to get the hang of making the blinis in a perfect circle. One comes out in a lumpy sort of heart shape. Cute, but not what I was going for.

Hope returns and pulls up a stool on the other side of the counter.

“My mother always made this look so easy,” I grumble.

Hope peers over. “Are they crepes?”

“Same idea. Blini, Russian crepes. Damn.” Another misshapen one. I set it aside and Zipper thumps his nub of a tail against the floor as if he knows I’m saving it for him and Ziggy. “You don’t care what they look like, do you, buddy?”

He whines.

Hope chuckles. “Such a good helper.”

After some trial and error, I seem to have it down. Something about the process soothes me. Making food that used to bring me comfort when I was a child. Cooking with my mother is one of the few pleasant memories I have from my childhood.

Eventually, I have a decent-sized stack and a larger audience.

Chance tugs on my jeans.

I tip my head down and smile at him. “

Hungry?”

He eyes the stack of blini carefully before nodding.

“My mother always served them with sweet and savory stuff,” I explain as I start placing things on the table.

Hope grabs a stack of dishes out of the cabinet. “Right now, I’m just eying the sweetened condensed milk. I don’t think I’ve had that since I was a kid.”

“We used to drizzle it over the blini and add berries.”

“Sold.” She grins at me, then touches my shoulder. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”

“I needed to do something to keep my mind off things.”

After dinner, my phone rings. Before answering, I explain to Hope that it’s my brother and I’m going to take it upstairs.

“What’s up?” Somehow, I sound more chipper than I’m feeling.

“What’s up with you? I haven’t heard from you in days.”

“Sorry. Just been a little crazy.” Crazy with grief, worry, dread. I debate whether or not to tell Alex what’s going on, but I don’t think I can handle any shitty comments about Z from him right now. “I made blini tonight,” I blurt out before he can ask any more questions.

“Really? Did you get them as thin as Mom’s?”

“Close. Oh, and I found a recipe for pirozhki I was going to try too. Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Is everything okay, Lilly?” he asks in a somber tone. “I can’t remember the last time you wanted to cook dishes from the old country.”

“I cook all the time.”

“Not blini or pirozhki. Why didn’t you just call Mom for her recipe?”

Because I’m thirty-six and don’t feel like being yelled at by my mother. “I don’t know.”

“How’s Chance?”

“He’s been racing Hot Wheels with Alexa most of the day.”

“Z’s friend’s kid?”

“Yes,” I answer carefully.

“That’s good. Glad he has someone his age to play with.”

“It’s been nice. They’re taking swim lessons together too.”

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