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“You could always have another kid,” I joked. “Women are having babies into their sixties now.”

“Oh, they are not.” She waved a hand. “Don’t believe everything on the internet.”

Said the woman who had sent me at least three Snopes-debunked articles about terrorist threats in the past six months. But I let it slide. Things with mom weren’t suddenly, perfectly cured. But they were somewhat better than they had been before.

I would take it.

* * * *

“Is this shirt all right?” El-Mudad asked when he entered the kitchen in his navy Versace polo shirt.

“You look fine. You know how much I love blue on you,” I reassured him.

“I don’t think he was asking if it was all right for you,” Neil observed from where he crouched behind the island, taking something out of the warming drawer.

“Exactly. I was wondering if it was all right for dinner with Tony and Rebecca.” El-Mudad let out a long, slow exhale. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous over dinner with someone I’ve already met.”

“That’s because this is the first time you’re meeting them as our partner instead of as a good family friend,” Neil pointed out, cursing as he dropped a pan of roasted brussels sprouts in a honey glaze onto a large trivet. The pan slid sideways, and I hurried over to right it while he dove for the sink and turned on the cold tap.

“Are you okay?” I asked, careful not to burn myself, too, as I carefully centered the pan with a kitchen towel wrapped around my hand.

“I’m fine.” He clucked his tongue in annoyance. “I can’t believe I’ve done that.”

“Perhaps you’re a bit nervous, yourself?” El-Mudad suggested, coming to stand at his side. He carefully turned Neil’s hand over in his, taking it out from under the stream of cold water for just a second. “Look. Not so bad. It probably won’t even blister.” He dropped a kiss on his finger just as Olivia charged through the door.

“Oh no! You kiss Afi’s boo-boo?” she gasped as El-Mudad stepped back quickly. “Afi, let Olivia see. Let Olivia see it.”

“There isn’t much to see, I’m afraid,” Neil told her, holding his dripping hand down to her level.

Her face crumpled in disappointment. “Why you’re not bleeding?”

“He’ll try to do better next time,” I said with a laugh.

El-Mudad picked her up and kissed her chubby cheek. “It’s just a little burn. Let’s go away from here before you get one, yourself.”

“Olivia doesn’t like burns,” she said very seriously. She’d once reached out and grabbed the flame of a candle on Neil’s birthday cake, and he’d been emotionally punishing himself for it ever since. He winced at her declaration, and I shook my head fondly.

El-Mudad put Olivia on a chair on the other side of the island, but he remained standing. He practically twitched with nervous energy.

“Hey,” I said softly, trying to pull him out of his thoughts. “It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.”

He gave me a grateful, if disbelieving, smile.

The bell rang. Neil glanced over at me. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Just my mom.” I frowned and went to the kitchen door. I peeked around the edge of the Roman shade, expecting to see some strangers there. But it was my Mom and Tony. And they’d...respected our privacy?

I threw the door open wide. “Wow, I didn’t know you knew how to use a doorbell!”

“Very funny,” Mom said with a roll of her eyes.

“I think Becky learned her lesson on that one,” Tony said with an uncomfortable cough.

Mom handed me the foil-topped pie-plate she carried. “Dessert.”

“Sugar free?” Neil asked, trying and failing to keep his tone light and non-judgmental.

“No, I thought I would send my daughter to the hospital,” she said with a breezy wave of her hand.

“Everything was baked with Splenda,” Tony assured us.

“That’s why it’s so flat and runny,” Mom added. She nodded to El-Mudad. “Hello, only person in this kitchen who hasn’t criticized me yet.”

“I would never do so,” El-Mudad swore. “Unless you’d like me to.”

“Oliva is here!” Olivia announced from the table, and Mom hurried over to her.

“Yes, she is. And I’ve missed her!” Mom kissed her cheek until she wriggled away.

“No, no, no. Olivia is too big,” she insisted, and Mom backed off. We’d all agreed that it was super important for Olivia to know she could turn down hugs and kisses. We also all agreed that she was definitely too big. The time had flown, and her fourth birthday was just around the corner.

“Is this my party?” she asked, sounding concerned and a little disappointed.

“Your party is next week,” Neil reminded her.

I nodded in agreement. “At Serendipity Three. So you can have frozen hot chocolate.”

One of the greatest injustices I’d ever experienced was finally getting around to visiting the confectionary cafe after being diagnosed with diabetes. Nothing would ever get me over that particular unfairness. But it would be worth going to watch Olivia absolutely demolish a year’s worth of sweets in a single day.

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