Page 77 of Buttons

Her lower lip pokes out briefly before she nods. “Okay, but hurry. He’s shy with new people.”

I turn back to Leo’s project, giving him my full attention. “Tell me how the energy storage works.”

As Leo launches into an explanation that mixes solid science with imagination, involving locked storage crates that sound like something out ofGhost Busters, I catch sight of Elowen moving around the kitchen. Her curly hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail, escaping tendrils framing her face. She wears simple pink sweatpants and a soft gray T-shirt. There’s nothing earth-shattering about her outfit, but it still looks like she belongs in a fashion magazine.

I remember the revelation I had in the coffee shop, the sickening moment of reading my own words about her appearance. About her nose. About her hair. The list of “improvements” I’d planned before I’d even asked her to marry me.

Now, watching her taste something from a wooden spoon, nodding to herself with quiet confidence, I wonder how I never saw how perfect she was exactly as she is.

“—and that’s how the batteries store extra power for nighttime,” Leo concludes, looking at me expectantly.

“Smart design,” I say, dragging my attention back where it belongs. “Have you calculated how much energy they can hold?”

His face lights up at the question, and he reaches for a paper covered in careful numbers. Before he can show me his calculations, Meredith’s patience expires.

“Now meet Bartholomew!” she insists, tugging me toward a child-sized armchair in the corner. “He’s waiting, and it’s past his naptime!”

I look apologetically at Leo, who sighs with the exaggerated patience of an older sibling. “It’s okay. She won’t stop until you see him.”

“I’ll be right back,” I promise, letting myself be pulled across the small living room.

Meredith points triumphantly to a stuffed cat sitting in the chair—orange with a squashed face and permanently annoyed expression that looks remarkably like—

“It’s Balthazar!” I say with genuine surprise.

“No, it’s Bartholomew,” Meredith corrects seriously. “He’s Balthazar’s brother. They got separated when they were kittens. That’s why Balthazar is so grumpy; he misses his long-lost twin brother.”

“I see the family resemblance,” I say, examining the toy’s embroidered scowl. “Where did you find Bartholomew?”

“Miss Beatrix gave him to me! She said he’s been hiding in the shelter office for years, but when she saw me playing with Balthazar, she knew he wanted to come home with me. When I finally get to take Pepper home, they’re going to get married.”

I make a mental note to thank Beatrix for the gesture. The gruff shelter manager has shown unexpected kindness toward my children, despite being so no-nonsense.

“Do you think Balthazar will be less grumpy when he sees his brother?”

Meredith’s face grows solemn. “Maybe. But Miss Beatrix says some cats need more time to trust people because they’ve been hurt before. We have to be patient. Besides, Balthazar might getgrumpy when he learns his brother gets to marry Pepper. We’ll have to find another kitty for him.”

“Dinner’s ready,” Elowen announces. “Leo, can you please wash your hands and help Meredith with hers?”

The children scamper toward the bathroom, leaving Elowen and me alone for the first time tonight.

“Thanks for having me over,” I say, the words feeling inadequate against the backdrop of our complicated history. “I’ve been learning to cook. Next time, maybe I can help.”

“You’ve been cooking? Somehow, I can’t imagine.” She’s not being unkind; I get it, having never even boiled water before.

“Let me prove it. Can I help with anything?”

“Everything’s already done, unfortunately.” She gestures toward the small dining table, already set with mismatched plates and everyday glasses. “I’m going to take you up on ‘next time,’ though.”

Hearing her say the wordsnext timemakes me relax completely. Relief and excitement hit me all at once, making me smile before I can stop myself. I finally have the promise of a future of some sort with her.

The children return, filling the silence with their chatter as we settle around the table. Leo carefully explains the food groups visible on his plate to Meredith, who listens with unusual attentiveness before declaring that the broccoli looks like “tiny trees for gnomes and fairies” and “I wonder if goblins are their children.”

I watch Elowen pass the dishes. She catches me looking and relaxes.

“Leo was telling me about the new cat climbing structure at the sanctuary,” she says, offering a safe topic.

“The one with three levels?” I ask, grateful for the conversation. “Connor installed it yesterday. Beatrix said it’s already getting use.”