“Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this poop clean from my hands?” Lillian asked. Emilia thought she might be quoting Shakespeare but wasn’t positive.

“What can my royal poopiness assist you with?”

“Want to grate some carrots?”

“Give ’em here.” Angie held out her hands, and beneath the scratches Emilia recognized as signs of overenthusiastic dog play she noticed bruising around her wrists. Lillian had to have seen them, too, but she didn’t comment, and so Emilia didn’t either.

“I’m sorry I missed meeting your sister,” Angie said.

“Count yourself lucky. Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah. Morgan is the only only child under this roof. Did you find the banana bread I left for you in the fridge, by the way?” Angie asked around a mouthful of tomato.

Lillian set down her knife and opened the refrigerator, pulling out a large container labeled “bean sprouts.” “You’re the best. Want a slice, Emilia?”

“But you have to keep it a secret,” said Angie.

“Morgan and Stevie don’t respect labels,” Lillian explained, “so we’ve resorted to subterfuge. Neither would ever look in this.”

“Sometimes we put a layer of sprouts on top just to keep up appearances.”

“Morgan did mention she has a cheese problem,” said Emilia.

“It’s not a problem. It’s a pattern of criminal behavior.” Angie scowled. “I still haven’t forgiven her for eating an entire wedge of my good brie.”

“And let’s not forget the case of the missing mozzarella,” said Lillian.

“Or the ghost of gorgonzola.”

“The stilted stilton.”

“Lillian’s Limburger,” said Angie.

“Monster of muenster.

“Ravisher of ricotta.”

“I can’t think of anything for Havarti,” Lillian said.

“Ooh, pilfered provolone and the Havarti holdup.”

Tires sounded on gravel outside.

“Quick, hide the banana bread.” Lillian shoved the loaf back in its hiding spot and resumed slicing a cabbage as the front door opened and Kraken bounded in. Nell, who had taken up residence on the couch, slid down to greet him. Lillian’s Italian greyhound merely opened one eye from her spot on the back of an armchair, and the other dogs remained in the backyard.

Emilia wished she could bound up to Morgan like her dog, who had moved past Kraken to lean against Morgan. She scratched Nell’s ears as she looked around the room. Her eyes softened when they found Emilia’s, and the late afternoon sunlight suddenly seemed to shine more brightly.

“Guess who got baby donkey cuddles,” said Stevie.

“And guess who got to show the owner how to induce ejaculation in a jackass,” said Morgan, somewhat dampening Emilia’s current fantasy about bending her over the table. “Stevie had the better deal.”

“Can’t have one without the other,” Lillian pointed out. “If you’re doing artificial insemination.”

“I love the dinner table topics in this house.” Angie shook her head. “Especially when there’s company.”