I rest my hand on top of hers, giving it a little squeeze. “Well, because she’s trying to make it so you can have everything you need.”
“It was better when she was home all the time.” A small tear slides down her cheek, and I reach over, pulling her to me in a hug.
“We’re all trying to figure out how to do life now,” I say, patting her back a few times. “But we’ll get through it together. You should text her. Or try to do a video call. She might like that.”
Lila leans back with a sniffle. “She won’t answer. Or she’ll talk for two minutes, listening distractedly, before saying she has to go.”
I move my jaw back and forth. That’s a scarily accurate description of how most of our calls have been since Cora started traveling for work. It’s the stress, I think. When I moved here, she’d just sold the home she and Lila had shared with Barry. She thought she’d have money for a smaller place, but instead, most of the money went to the mortgage loan Barry had taken out for unknown reasons, along with the medical bills. She tries to show it’s not crushing her, and I don’t want to add to that.
“How about we make some breakfast?” I ask, smiling. Anything to change the trajectory of this conversation. “Pancakes or waffles before we go out?”
“Waffles! With whipped cream and sprinkles!” Lila is sitting up in bed, bouncing while clapping her hands together.
You would think she was still seven with that excitement.
“We’ll see if we have any cream. Or if it’s gone bad.”
I slip out of bed, fixing the covers, while Lila leaves the room.
I change into casual yoga pants and a T-shirt and brush my teeth before heading to the kitchen.
“Okay, let’s get started on these waffles.” I pull out a bowl from the cabinet and grab a few of the ingredients I need for the batter.
“What is that?” Lila asks, a little nervously.
I hear a drip and groan. “Sounds like our sink is struggling again.” I open the cupboard door and see a small puddle of water. Grabbing a bowl, I set it under the leaking pipe. That will be for later to worry about. I don’t want to break the peace that is this morning so far.
“No, it’s not the water.”
I glance at the items on the counter. They’re all the regular ingredients I use to make breakfast.
“What is what?” I ask, still trying to understand.
“There was a loud bang. It sounded like it came from the ceiling.”
We both freeze, and then I hear a knocking above us, almost like a woodpecker outside my house in Oregon.
Could it be rats?
I shiver. I hope to never share any space with creatures like that.
I’m grateful to the company that rented us this place for a lower fee, especially since the rest of the apartments are still unfinished. But the headache that comes with all the little quirks isn’t my favorite.
The sound comes again, but this time it’s sharper, more like a hammer.
“Maybe someone is finally getting started on the place above us?” I say, glancing at the ceiling. I start mixing the ingredients in the bowl.
“On a Sunday?” Lila asks. She’s way too perceptive for her own good. “And who has a key? You keep us all secure like a bank.”
“Some people work when they can. We might just have to put up with the noise for a bit.” Her comment about the key causes me some unease, and I know we’re going to have to figure out what’s going on up there.
Lila hops down from her stool and heads down the hallway.
“Where are you going?” I call after her.
“To get my shoes, so I can see what they’re doing.”
“We don’t need to bug them, sis. It might take less time if we leave them alone.”
