He didn’t finish.
The blond boy in the red pajamas took a step forward, fists clenched.
“You’re lying,” he snapped at Serena. “You didn’t know her. You can’t make it like her.”
Serena looked at him, then at the other two boys. The one still perched on the island, and Marco, who was now standing with his arms locked around his own ribs like he was holding himself still.
“I didn’t know your mama,” Serena said evenly. “And I would never try to replace how she made anything. But I have eggs and I have time, and I know how to cook. So you can watch me, and you can tell me if I get it wrong.”
For a long second no one moved.
Then Elio reached out and, with two fingers, touched the edge of the cheese wrapper.
“Can I help?” he asked.
Vittorio made a soft, involuntary sound.
Elio had not asked to help with anything in eleven months. Not since the funeral.
Serena nodded.
“You can crack the eggs. But only if your brothers help clean this floor first. I am not cooking in orange juice.”
Marco blinked.
“You want us to clean?”
“I want us to eat,” Serena said. “And no one eats at a table that looks like this.”
She stood, turned on the faucet, and found a mop herself. She didn’t hand it to them. She just started pushing the juice toward the drain, her worn shoes squeaking.
After a beat, Marco grabbed the roll of paper towels and threw it to the boy on the island.
“Nico, get down. Now.”
Nico slid off the granite, still wary.
The blond one didn’t move.
“Matteo,” Marco said sharply. “Come on.”
Matteo stared at Serena, his jaw working.
Then he grabbed a dish towel and started wiping butter off the cabinets with angry, jerky swipes.
Vittorio hadn’t moved.
Wine was still dripping from his fingers onto the floor.
Mrs. Chen appeared in the doorway, her eyes darting from the mop to the boys actually moving, and her hand flew to her mouth.
Serena filled a pot with water and set it on the gas burner.
The click and whoosh of the flame was loud in the quiet kitchen.
“Elio, bowl,” she said, and slid a ceramic bowl across the counter toward him.
His small hands shook as he tapped the first egg. It cracked too hard and shell fell in.
