Mama ignores me entirely while setting down plates. “There’s always room for my peach pie.”
Ivy lets out a delighted little squeal the second she sees the thick slices piled high with peaches and whipped cream.
“Oh wow,” she murmurs.
Mama laughs quietly. “Careful now, sugar. You’re gonna make me think my cookin’s actually special.”
“It is special,” Ivy says.
Alexei takes a bite and pauses before looking toward Mama. “This may be the best pie I’ve ever had.”
Mama points at him proudly. “See? That one’s smart.”
Sweet mercy.
Now my mother and Alexei are bonding over peach pie, as if they’ve known each other for years.
By the time we leave the diner, the night air feels lighter. The fear from earlier still lingers beneath the surface like a bruise every time my mind circles back toward the shelter or Mama’s car. But dinner helped. Ivy helped. And Alexei did too.
Mama hugs Ivy before we leave, promising to save her another slice of pie next time she visits. Ivy wraps her little arms around her waist like she’s known her longer than two hours.
“Well, aren’t you just sugar wrapped in sunshine,” Mama murmurs while smoothing Ivy’s hair.
Ivy grins proudly.
Then Mama looks at Alexei. She doesn’t look suspicious anymore, but she isn’t fully trusting either. The expression on her face turns more thoughtful instead, like she’s still making up her mind about him.
“You drive safe,” she tells him.
“I will.”
Her eyes move toward me next. One look at her face and I already know she’s fixin’ to question me the second I answer my phone later. I pretend not to notice.
“Text me when you get home,” Mama says while pulling me into a quick hug. “And don’t you dare forget this time.”
“Yes ma’am.”
She gives me one last knowing look before heading back inside the diner, the bell over the door jingling behind her.
Alexei walks Ivy toward the black SUV waiting near the curb while I stand beside my truck watching them. Ivy climbs into the backseat before leaning halfway back out.
“Can I come see Mr. Pickles tomorrow?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.
“If he hasn’t stolen somebody’s lunch again by then.”
“That means yes,” Ivy tells Alexei.
I laugh. “That means probably.”
Ivy points at me seriously. “I’m bringing him better snacks.”
Alexei closes the door gently once she finally sits back. Then his attention returns to me. The air changes every time that happens.
“You look tired,kotyónok.”
The low roughness in his voice curls slowly through me.
“I’m a bit tuckered out,” I admit.
