The scent of lasagna and garlic bread rolled out over her as Charlie opened the door to the apartment. She shrugged out of her jacket and stood for a moment watching Allie and Auntie Gwen and Katie dip and weave in the movements of a familiar dance. Gale girls seldom cooked alone. By the time they could use the stovetop without a step stool, they knew how to share the space with knives and fire and sisters and cousins and aunts. Charlie could hear the music they danced to even if she’d never learned more than the basic steps herself.

Joe was still in the store. Auntie Gwen would take two plates down and they’d eat together on the glass counter, not even the most mundane of bargain hunters daring to interrupt their meal. Graham sat in one of the big armchairs, his sons curled up on his lap listening to a story of a raccoon who got on the LRT at Southland and off five stops later at Bridlewood, waddling out into the dark as though he knew where he was going. Charlie could hear the truth in the story even if the twins could only hear the funny voices their father made as he told them about the reactions of the other passengers.

She touched the empty spaces that should have been full of Jack and moved away from the door, into the twins’ line of sight.

“Cha Cha!”

Dropping to one knee, Charlie waited for impact. Edward reached her first, but Evan followed close enough behind they hit essentially as one and she toppled amid shrieks of laughter. After a moment filled with sloppy kisses and four dimpled knees that seemed determined to nail her in the boob with every other movement, she grinned up at them. “I wonder if there’s a present in that shopping bag.”

She still wasn’t sure how many words they actually understood, but present they knew. Sitting up, she pushed her hair back off her face and scooted back until she could lean against the sofa as Edward all but dove into the bag, passing the first plush toy back to his brother.

Evan’s bear had a dark green head and body, its arms and one of its legs brown-and-white-striped. The second leg was striped pink and green. Edward held a bear with a blue head and body, its arms pink-and-purple stripes and its legs a pale lime green. Both tails—one green, one blue although not on the expected bear—sounded like a duck call when squeezed.

“These are special bears,” she explained as the boys returned to her lap. “When I’m not here . . .”

“Gone.”

“Yes, when I’m gone, these bears will remind you of me. When you hug these bears, you’ll know I’m with you no matter where I am.”

Edward cocked his head and pushed the blue bear against her chest. “Here.”