The glow of last night faded. She couldn’t really blame her mother or Anna Maria for their worry. “I’m sorry. Do I need to call Mom?”

“Please don’t. I wasn’t supposed to call you until I was ten minutes away.”

“Thank you for not doing that.”

“Anytime. Okay, go do whatever you need to do to roll out the red-carpet treatment for my imminent arrival. See you soon.”

“Why, Nell?” she asked when Anna Maria hung up. Nell wagged her tail from her spot in a pool of sunshine on the floor. She paused before putting her phone away.

ER: Hope you got some sleep last night.

Texting Morgan brought some of her good mood back. Humming, she hopped in the shower, and was rewarded with a response when she hopped back out.

MD: A little. Want to keep me up again tonight?

Dammit, Anna Maria. Her stomach tightened.

ER: More than anything. Unfortunately, my sister is paying me a surprise visit. Can I see you when she leaves?

MD: Yes.

ER: You don’t have to buy me dinner this time.

MD: Can I cook it for you?

She pressed the phone to her forehead and took a steadying breath, wondering if she could manage to ditch Anna Maria tonight after all.

ER: Only if you come to my place. I want you shirtless.

MD: You sure you’re not free tonight?

ER: You’re not ready to meet my sister.

Briefly, she toyed with the idea of introducing Morgan to Anna Maria. “Hi, you’re the fuckable one,” Anna Maria would say. And then she would start asking questions, and Emilia didn’t have any answers. One day at a time. She smiled at the emoji Morgan fired back and went to do battle with the guest bedroom.

•   •   •

Anna Maria’s Subaru Forester pulled into the driveway a few hours later, playing the sort of music Emilia was positive she didn’t listen to with kids in the car. Nell raced off the porch to greet her with leaping bounds that never quite managed to land on any physical part of the new arrival.

“At least someone’s excited to see me,” her sister said. Anna Maria and Emilia looked like they shared blood relatives, thanks to her stepfather’s equally Italian heritage. The main difference between them lay in Anna Maria’s larger chest, which she crushed Emilia into mercilessly.

“I can’t breathe.”

“You’re too skinny. You’re not eating enough.”

“I am eating—”

“Don’t worry, Mom sent lasagna, gnocchi, and some vegetable thing that looks like barf but tastes amazing. Oh, and half a thing of chocolate chip cookies.”

“Half?”

“There may have been more a few hours ago.”

“I see.”

“So, this is it?” Anna Maria looked around, sweeping her dark hair into a sloppy bun.

“I forget you’ve never really been here. Yeah, I need to fix up the yard, but the inside is coming along.”