“Hell of a kid.” He pinched Kate’s chin. “You got an eye on the dad, I noticed.”

“No. I’ve got both eyes on the dad.” Laughing, she leaned in to give him a kiss. “You go ahead after those California girls, pal. I like country boys.”

“Behave yourself.”

“Not a chance.”

He laughed, turned on the engine again. “See you, gorgeous.”

She stepped back, waved. “Fly safe,” she murmured.

It was traditional for Natasha to close the shop on New Year’s Eve. She spent the day in the kitchen, preparing the myriad dishes she’d set out for the open house she held every New Year’s Day. Family, friends, neighbors would crowd the house for hours.

“Brand should have stayed until after the party.”

“I wish he could have.” Natasha checked the apricots and water she was boiling for kissel, turned the mixture down to simmer. “Don’t sulk, Katie. There were times your life and your work kept you away.”

“I know.” Kate continued to roll out pastry dough as she’d been taught. “I just need a little more sulk time. I miss the jerk, that’s all.”

“So do I.”

On the stove, pots puffed steam. In the oven, an enormous ham was baking. Years ago, Natasha thought, she’d have had three children underfoot while she was juggling these chores. There would have been squabbling, giggling, spills to mop up. Her patience would have been sorely tried a dozen times.

It had been wonderful.

Now she only had her Kate, pouting over the pastry dough.

“You’re restless.” Natasha tapped a spoon on the side of a pot, set it on its holder. “You don’t have enough to fill your time while the building is going on.”

“I’m making plans.”

“Yes, I know.” She poured two cups of tea, brought them to the table. “Sit.”

“Mama, I’m—”

“Sit. So, you’re like me,” Natasha continued as they both took seats at the crowded table. “Plans, details, goals. These are so important. We want to know what happens next, because if we know, we can have control.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. When I came here to open my store, it was very hard. Hard to leave the family. But I needed to. I didn’t know I’d meet your father here. That wasn’t planned.”

“It was fate.”

“Yes.” Natasha smiled. “We plan, you and I, and we calculate. And still, we understand fate. So maybe fate, for all your plans, brought you back.”

“Are you disappointed?” She blurted it out, and felt both relief and dread that it had finally been asked.

“In what? You? Why would you think so?”

“Mama.” Searching for words, Kate turned her cup around and around. “I know how much you and Dad sacrificed—”

“Wait.” Dark eyes kindling, Natasha tapped her fingers hard on the table. “Maybe, after all these years my English is failing. I don’t understand the word sacrifice when it comes to my children. You have never been a sacrifice.”

“I meant, you and Dad did so much, supported me in every way when I wanted to dance. Please, Mama,” Kate said when Natasha started to speak. “Just let me finish this. It’s been on my mind. All the lessons, all those years. The costumes, the shoes, the travel. Letting me go to New York when I know Dad would have preferred I’d gone to college. But you let me have what I needed most. I always knew that. I wanted you to be proud of me.”