Lila relaxed. “See? She’s normal.”
“I never promised normal, honey,” I said, wiping my shoe with a damp cloth. “I promised chicken.”
I believed he had left me.
***
I had made roast chicken because Lila once said it made a house smell like someone had their life together.
I had polished wine glasses we probably wouldn’t use, burned the first batch of rolls, and lined up the forks until Lila caught me.
“Mom, you’re fidgeting,” she said.
I sighed. “Fine. I’m nervous.”
Her smile softened. “I really love him.”
She had never said that before.
I tucked a curl behind her ear. “Then I will try to love him too, my darling, unless he chews with his mouth open.”
“I have limits.”
“I really love him.
***
Now, Julian sat across from me, cutting chicken with his left hand.
Leo had been left-handed.
“So, Julian,” I said. “Where did you grow up?”
“Mostly Michigan,” he said. “A few towns, really.”
“Military family?”
“No, nothing like that. My dad moved around before I was born.”
