The fridge didn’t have much in it besides the groceries I’d purchased yesterday. Last night for dinner Lou had used the last of the milk to eat a bowl of cereal, and she’d looked ready to pass out into it. At least she’d eaten something. She didn’t always. She had a hectic schedule—all my roommates did—and they didn’t seem to have time for cooking, sometimes skipping meals all together.

I didn’t like that.

Lou needed to eat. It wasn’t that much more effort to cook for four as it was to cook for one. I frowned. Juliet didn’t eat enough, either. She was great about taking care of Savannah, but not so good at remembering to do the same for herself.

So make that five.

I put water on to boil, salting it heavily to get it ready for the pasta. Then I cut up peppers, onions, cherry tomatoes, and some of the vegetarian sausage I found in the fridge. It wouldn’t taste the same to me, but if I put in meat, Lou couldn’t eat it.

If I made Lou dinner, she’d have at least one good meal today. I scowled at the faux sausage and reordered my thoughts. If I made everyone dinner, they’d have at least one good meal today. Yes. Better. That felt right.

I threw it all in a pan with some olive oil and cooked it while the pasta boiled. Once that was going, I put together a green salad, adding in lots of different veggies for color, whisking together a quick vinaigrette when I was done, though I kept that separate. That finished, I drained the pasta and tossed it with the sausage mix. Juliet came in to the kitchen then, a sleepy Savannah on her hip.

She looked about ready to collapse. I didn’t know how she managed to juggle a kid, school, and work without the help of a partner. Mothers were tough as shit.

“Hey, I was just—” She paused and took in a deep breath. “Wow, that smells good.”

I took Savannah from her and guided her into a chair before she could protest. Then I snagged a plate, put a healthy serving of pasta onto it with my free hand, topping it with freshly grated parmesan. I handed her a fork and put the plate in front of her as she blinked in surprise. Savannah leaned against my shoulder in that trusting way truly loved children seemed to master, and hummed, running one hand through my close-cropped beard. I swayed with her as I put some salad into a bowl for Juliet and set it next to her plate.

She held a fork in one hand, her mouth and eyes full. I thought for a second she was going to cry.

I didn’t want to see Juliet cry over dinner. It would break my fucking heart. “Just take a moment to eat,” I told her gently. “It’s just food. We’re fine.”

I made myself a plate and joined her, eating in silence as Savannah continued to hum, though I could tell she was falling asleep. She’d stopped petting my cheek, her fingers tangled in my hair. The front door opened and closed and a second later, Lou and Trick came in to the kitchen. Trick had come straight from work, the tang of fire, metal and chemicals strong on him. Dammit snoozed in the carrier strapped to Trick’s chest.