Page 28 of Lemon Pound Cake Club

I smiled and tucked my phone into my robe pocket.

"What now?" Zaire asked.

"They're planning another get-together."

"So soon?"

"I think they genuinely enjoy being around each other."

He glanced out at the neighborhood and nodded.

"You'd be surprised how rare that is."

"I know, right?"

We finished breakfast. He stood up and stretched.

"I need to head into the office for a couple of hours."

"Already?"

"I've got two closings today. The money doesn’t stop, baby." He leaned down and kissed me on the top of my head.

"Think you'll survive without me?"

"I'll do my best."

"I left the garage remote on the kitchen counter."

"I saw it."

"And your new house keys are hanging beside the pantry."

"I saw those too." He grinned. He never teased me for noticing everything. He just accepted it, the same way he accepted that I needed every downstairs door locked twice before bed, or that I checked the stove before leaving, even if I hadn’t used it.

Some people might have called it overthinking. Zaire just called it Maci.

"I'll be home before dinner," he said.

"I'll hold you to it."

"You always do."

I watched him back his SUV out of the driveway and disappear around the curve of the cul-de-sac.

I went back inside. Bernice was right. Every cabinet was perfectly organized. Glasses were by the fridge, coffee mugs waited next to the espresso machine, and the spices stood in matching glass jars with neat white labels. The whole place looked like something from Pinterest.

I reached for a bowl without thinking, but my hand stopped halfway. I frowned, wondering why I reached there. I’d never put bowls in that cabinet. That was something Bernice always did. I stood there for a moment and quietly laughed at myself.

"You're officially overthinking cabinets."

My voice echoed softly in the kitchen. I grabbed the bowl, washed a few strawberries, and took them to the island. After breakfast, I decided to finish the last room Bernice hadn’t organized yet.

My office.

Boxes labeled BOOKS, FILES, and PERSONAL sat against one wall. I opened the smallest one first. Inside were journals, pens, sticky notes, and my favorite candle.

A framed quote that read: