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"You're my competition, you wench. Apparently, you're prettier."

Angelica looked up from the bag of mulch she was pointedly not picking up. "Did he really say prettier?"

"He said you were very pretty and that I knew things, and his dad needed both of us."

The shriek of laughter that came out of Chloe startled every bird in the yard, and one eleven-week-old infant. Olivia's face crumpled from peaceful to outraged in the span of half a second. Chloe was laughing too hard to be useful and made a helpless gesture toward Olivia’s blanket that was laid out under the shade of the big oak.

I was already moving.

"Oh no." I pointed at Angelica as she got up, too. "You do not get to go comfort that child. You're the competition. You pick up the mulch and get to work. That’s your punishment for being too pretty and good at Mario Kart."

I crouched down and gathered Olivia up, tucking her against my chest. She immediately found it in her heart to stop screaming, which I took as a personal victory. "There you go. There you go, sweet girl. Your mama has no manners and your aunt is currently under discipline. You're stuck with me."

Chloe had both hands pressed over her mouth, shoulders still shaking. Angelica, who had given up all pretense of being offended, continued to sit on top of the bag of mulch she was supposed to be carrying and was losing the battle not to laugh.

"A four-year-old," Chloe finally managed. "You're threatened by a four-year-old."

"I am not threatened. I am registering my feelings appropriately. Just like I learned in counselling. They haven’t told me how to kill the competition, but I figured having her come over and dig her own grave was a start."

Chloe laughed louder, and I pressed a kiss to the top of Olivia's head. She had the irreplicable smell of a baby who has recently been bathed and is totally content with her life. "Your aunt is very emotionally mature, did you know that?"

Olivia blinked up at me with those grave brown eyes. I knew she was taking my side.

I settled cross-legged on the grass with Olivia against my shoulder, and after a moment she snuggled closer and sighed. I did as well. Then I looked up across the yard.

"Mulch," I said to Angelica. "You're on notice."

April in Tennessee was one of my favorite months. Honestly, it was one of the top twelve because I love it here all the time. A day like today was one of the reasons. The garden was going to take more work than most people realized. The beds would need turning, early perennials going in, all the things that would need to happen for a blaze of color come May and June.

Chloe had taken over the far bed with the focused energy she brought to everything, trowel moving at a pace that suggested she was either deeply at peace or processing something she hadn't brought up yet. My guess was peace.

Angelica had graduated from mulch discipline to actual gardening once I put Olivia into the playpen for a nap.

"I am getting my nails done tomorrow," Angelica announced, sitting back on her heels and looking at her hands. "Whatever I end up paying, it won’t be enough.”

"You volunteered."

"You guilted me."

"And it worked." I crowed.

“I’m such a sucker.” Angelica went inside to make lemonade, and Chloe moved closer to me.

"So," Chloe said, without looking up from her trowel. "Three days since the store incident."

"Three days," I confirmed.

"It made the rounds." She glanced up. "Zarek heard about it from Jase."

“How in the hell did Jase hear about it?”

Chloe gave me a look like I was the slowest student in the class. “I keep forgetting that if somebody doesn’t have the last name Avery in this town, their last name is Drakos,” I sighed. “Of course Adam told Renzo Drakos, who told his brother Jase Drakos, who told⁠—”

“My husband Zarek, whose last name is Post, I’ll have you make note of.” Chloe grinned at me.

“One Post out of many Drakos. Face it, we’re overrun.”

“There’s not many Becketts either. Just Adam and James,” she pointed out.