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Willow picked up her phone when the notification came through. Her eyebrows pulled together as she studied the screen. “You made me a color?”

“Yes.”

“Why mine orange?”

“Because it’s loud.”

Granny laughed into her coffee while Willow leaned back in her chair, offended on principle. “I wanted pink.”

“You get orange,” I told her, reaching for the last appointment slip.

“I reject this system.”

“You have no authority.”

Willow turned toward Granny with her phone still raised. “See? She ain’t even been home forty-eight hours and already running shit.”

“Good. I’m tired.”

Her answer was quiet enough to stop both of us. I set down the paper and studied her face. She was still smiling, but now that we had settled down, I could see how much effort it took for her to sit there and keep up with us. She had let me bring everything to the table without once getting up to check behind me. For a woman who usually insisted on doing things herself, that told me more than her words did.

I reached across the table and covered her hand.

Her skin felt warm beneath my palm, and a little of the tension I had carried since coming home eased when she turned her hand to hold mine.

“You don’t have to do everything anymore,” I said.

She studied our hands for a moment before meeting my eyes. “I know, baby.”

“Good.” I squeezed her fingers, relieved that she wasn’t about to argue with me.

“You still ain’t cooking, though.”

Willow’s laugh burst out so loud that I snatched my hand back and sat upright. “Wow. I’m over here trying to have a moment with you.”

“I’m sick, not suicidal.” Granny delivered it with such a straight face that Willow folded forward over the table.

“I can cook!” I protested.

“You can assemble,” Granny corrected.

“That counts.”

“No, baby. It doesn’t.”

I turned to Willow, waiting for her to defend me, but she only wiped beneath one eye and shook her head. “I love you too much to lie.”

“Both of y’all can starve,” Granny playfully stated.

I gathered the empty medication boxes while they laughed, fighting a smile of my own.

Hearing Granny joke made it easier to breathe, even if I had to be the joke.

She settled back in her chair, letting the laughter fade before she added, “Oh, I meant to tell you. I saw Chalis at Walmart the other day.”

Willow’s spoon dropped into her bowl with a sharp clatter. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. “Oh, Lord. Here we go.”

I leaned back in the wooden chair, feeling a familiar, sour headache bloom behind my temples.