“I know.”
She glanced toward the open parlor.
“It looks different.”
“It does.”
“Better?”
“I am still deciding.”
A small smile touched her mouth.
“I deserve that.”
They stood by the worktable while children from the neighborhood painted wooden spoons. Mara sat beside Owen, carefully writing names on paper bags.
Petra watched them.
“I thought if I secured the house, I would secure everyone,” she said.
“You tried to secure yourself.”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“Now I am trying to learn the difference.”
I did not touch her. Not yet.
But I gave her an apron.
“Dinner starts at five.”
She held it against her chest.
“Am I invited?”
“You are expected to help.”
For the first time since the holiday dinner, she smiled without calculation.
“I can do that.”
CHAPTER 5 – A House Full of Light
By spring, the Claremont Community Kitchen opened three afternoons a week.
Families came after school for soup, bread, and a place to sit. Older neighbors brought recipes. Teenagers learned to cook. The parlor shelves filled with jars labeled in different handwriting.
Harold’s silver candlesticks remained on the dining table.
The difference was that now the table was rarely empty.
Petra kept every boundary Josephine had written. She never entered my study without asking. She never handled a document that belonged to me. When she felt anxious about money, she said she felt anxious instead of inventing an emergency.
It was not a miracle. There were still difficult conversations.
