“That just means they need their men to cook for them.” Leaf flashed a pearly smile at my mother. “I cook for Sara. I love to cook.”

“She told me. Sometimes she makes me drool a little.” Mom sipped her coffee. “Of course, I drool for fun on Wednesdays, too, but I swear this time it’s about your food.”

Leaf chuckled and got up to rinse his dishes in the sink. When Mormor started packing up the extra food, he insisted on helping, ladling things into Tupperware and meeting Mormor’s small talk with his own, the two of them bonding over cooking. They were getting along almost too well. Mom’s eyes met mine and she pointed at them, mouthing, “Do you see this?”

I did.

My boyfriend was the best.

Inspired by—okay, let’s be real, guilted by, because that’s the truth of it—Leaf’s easy willingness to help clean up, I started loading the dishwasher. Mom was on make-room-in-the-refrigerator-for-the extra-everything duty. It took us a good half hour to get the kitchen back to a working state, but we managed it. Leaf told Mom and Mormor about his sister and her baby, showing them pictures of Elana in her holiday dresses on his phone. His most recent shot was of her in her Halloween costume, which was a lobster, ’cause I guess if you’re from New England that’s how you did your kids dirty.

...I made a mental note to be sure I found something equally as ridiculous for Cass the following year. Maybe a frog. Or a unicorn onesie.

Heck, I wanted a unicorn onesie.

We could be twinsies.

“Alright, you two are off the hook for spending time with the old people. I’ll call you down for dessert in, say, an hour-ish?” Mom glanced at the clock. It was only six-thirty. “Make that two hours. I think I ate an entire horse.”

Leaf slung an arm over my shoulders. “My father has a saying—the older the violin, the sweeter the music. I’m having a great time—down here, upstairs. It’s all good to me.”

Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, you’re trouble. Good trouble, I think, but trouble. Go on. Get out while the getting’s good. If you stay in the kitchen too long, she’ll find more work for you to do.” Mom waved her thumb in Mormor’s direction. “Or maybe she’ll throw a shoe. She does that for fun sometimes.”

“Astrid! I would never. He’s been very helpful. Far more helpful than my own family,” Mormor protested. “But yes, go. We’ll take some time before dessert.”