“Not everyone would go out of their way like you do, Nat,” Her father argued. “We’re proud of you.”
A beat of silence passed before Sofia spoke. “Nat told me there had been a fire at the bakery.”
The atmosphere at the table shifted slightly as Nat’s parents exchanged a glance, and her father let out a sigh.
“Yeah. It’s been tough but we’re renovating. Doing what we can with what we have and hoping to re-open soon.”
“I’m sorry you’ve had to go through that,” Sofia said. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be.”
Nat’s father straightened himself and shook his head. “We’ll manage. We always do. We’ve got good people around us, and that makes all the difference.” He grinned and turned to Zoe. “And our youngest can’t wait to join the family business when we re-open.”
“Dad!” Zoe rolled her eyes. “I told you I’ll help you out in the first few weeks but after that, I’m focusing on auditions.”
“I know, I know…” Her father chuckled. “But mark my words, Zoe—you’ve never been away from home before. I’d bet my best loaf of sourdough that within two months, you’ll be back, missing your family and craving some homemade meals.”
Zoe groaned. “Come on, Dad. I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll have you know I can survive on more than just home-cooked meals.”
Nat observed the back-and-forth between her father and Zoe with amusement. “Just promise to send us a selfie when you burn your first meal,” she said.
“I won’t burn anything!” Zoe shot back. “But… if it happens, I’ll blame the toaster.”
“Blame the toaster,” their mother echoed, shaking her head with mock disapproval. “This is what I get for raising a comedian instead of a chef.”
“Auditions?” Sofia tilted her head. “You want to be an actress?”
“Yes. I want to go to drama school. I’ve applied to a couple of places in New York and Los Angeles. I’ll hear back early next year.”
“How exciting. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”
Zoe’s face lit up. “Thanks. I’ve wanted to be on stage for as long as I can remember. I’ve been doing theatre at school, and I’ve done some online classes.”
“What do you want to do?” Sofia asked. “Musicals, plays, film?”
“Film, definitely! I want to be in movies. Big ones, you know? The kind that people line up to see opening night. I want to be famous, to make people feel something when they watch me on screen.”
Nat listened to Zoe’s passionate declaration with quiet worry. They’d had this conversation many times before, late at night when Zoe’s excitement would bubble over and she’d talk endlessly about auditions, fame, and making it big. Nat always tried to temper her sister’s expectations gently, reminding her how tough and competitive the film industry could be, how few people actually “made it.” She didn’t want Zoe to be crushed if things didn’t turn out the way she hoped. But lately, Nat had stopped bringing it up. Zoe was young, and having big dreams was part of that youth. She deserved to chase them with all the fire in her heart. So, instead of cautioning her again, Nat simply hoped that whatever happened, Zoe’s resilience would carry her through—and that she’d always know her family would be there to catch her if she fell.
“That’s a wonderful dream, Zoe,” Sofia said, squeezing Nat’s hand under the table. And you’ve got the passion for it—that’s half the battle.”
“Thanks.” Zoe’s cheeks flushed with excitement. “When I’m a big star, you’re all getting premiere tickets. And maybe I’ll bring some burnt toast for Dad, just for nostalgia’s sake.”
The table erupted in laughter, and Nat shook her head affectionately. “You’ll do great, Zoe. Just remember us little people when you’re walking the red carpet.”
The conversation settled into a comfortable rhythm, and Martha stood, wiping her hands on her apron. “I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’ve got some freshly baked sourdough toast with brie and cranberry chutney in the oven. It should be perfect right about now.”
Sofia’s eyes widened. “More food? It sounds delicious but I’m not sure if I can eat more…”
“In this household, there’s always more food,” Nat said with a grin.
“And more coffee,” her father added, pouring hot coffee into their mugs from the pot on the table.
Martha returned and set down the tray of toast topped with bubbling cheese. She looked at Sofia as she plated. “Enough about us, honey. We want to know about you now.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
The morning was buzzing with holiday cheer, the kind that warmed even the coldest corners of the house. Nat snuck glances at Sofia as the breakfast conversation swirled around them. Her dark eyes were bright, and she laughed easily at Zoe’s antics. Nat leaned back in her chair, the reality of Sofia sitting here, among her family, feeling utterly surreal. She hadn’t anticipated that Sofia would fit so well into this little slice of her world, but here she was, genuinely engaged and smiling like she belonged.
Once breakfast was winding down, Nat stood and stretched, turning to Sofia. “So, I was thinking... we could go back to my apartment?”
