Sara was practicing saying “achoo” and making Rose laugh hysterically.

  Patti couldn’t remember the last time her sister seemed this happy since their parents’ death. Being with Reza made everything magical. She knocked on the door and saw the girls on the floor with dolls. The nanny stood and the two women exchanged information before the older woman left. Rose looked up. “Where’s Reza?”

  Patti noticed the gleam in her sister’s blue eyes. She radiated the same caring warmth their mother had, and her blonde hair cascaded around her rosy face, the illness forgotten. Sara put her doll down and just stared at her with huge brown eyes in a pale face, each in matching pink pajamas. Sara stood in front of the toys like she’d been caught. Patti pointed behind her toward the great room that connected all the sections of the home. “Some emergency at work. Let’s get breakfast, girls.”

  Sara blinked and asked, “Daee.”

  Patti knelt down to her level and smiled at the young girl, gently smoothing a strand of Sara’s brown hair behind her ear. “He’s working.”

  “Work?” She repeated the word like a question. Sara clearly didn’t want to say much to her right now, but that was okay.

  Rose gave Patti a side-hug. “Yes, work. Now we get breakfast.”

  Sara looped her hand in Patti’s and instantly Patti wanted to keep this beautiful little one close too. Rose shuffled in front of them in the hallway and ran ahead as she asked, “Can we have pancakes?”

  Sara let go and tried to run after Rose. She still ran on her tiptoes and stumbled a bit but didn’t slow down.

  Patti was last in the kitchen and glanced around at all the shiny metal appliances, including a mixer. She tapped the side of her face and decided to make pancakes if she had everything in the pantry—there were two, so chances were good. “Let’s see if we have the ingredients.”

  In the second pantry, she found the flour.

  Sara tugged on her jeans and said, “Milk.”

  Patti put the flour down and hurried to the refrigerator. She then searched the kitchen for Sara’s cup. Her sippy cup had to be washed and put away, but where? Patti checked a cabinet with an assortment of plastic silverware and dishes, and breathed out. Perfect. She poured milk into a cup and handed her the drink. “Right, here you go, Sara.”

  The milk jug went on the counter with the flour. Sugar, and baking soda were in pantry one. After she brought her ingredients to the mixer on the granite counter, she added salt into a bowl, then sugar, then the flour. Her sister asked, “Patti, are you in love with Reza?”

  Flour flew all over the kitchen from her jerky reaction. Patti wiped the counter and turned on the mixer as she cleaned, avoiding her sister’s gaze. “I… maybe.”

  She’d never felt this way before and couldn’t name her feelings.

  Sara stared at both of them while drinking her milk.

  Rose tilted her head, just like their mother, when she said, “I thought you’d only get married if you were in love.”

  The tone was similar and Patti’s face felt hot. Not wanting to answer her sister’s question, she checked on the mixer and then headed to the oven. She selected one of Reza’s fancy pans and found some spray as she turned the stovetop on.

  Everything seemed brand new though she knew he had a chef and a maid. “Why did you think that?”

  Rose shrugged like her words were obvious. “Because it’s every movie you watch on TV—they fall in love.”

  She finished getting the pan ready and shrugged. “Oh, well…life isn’t like the movies.”

  “Okay,” Rose said, her expression crestfallen.

  Patti poured the batter into the pan and then knelt down, eye to eye with her sister. “What’s that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Rose glanced at Sara.

  The four-year-old sipped her milk like she’d been starved.

  Patti turned back toward her sister and asked, “But?”

  Rose hugged her hard and fast. When she let go, she wiped her eyes like she wanted to cry. “Patti, you’re happy here. You’re always say everything will be all right, but with Reza you’re right.”

  Or Rose was happy. Clearly. This was about her, and it seemed Rose wanted to tell her not to screw everything up. But maybe Patti over-read that entirely. “I am?”

  Rose nodded. “Yeah and I don’t want you to screw this up. I like Reza and Sara.”

  Boom. She’d been right. Rose didn’t see the truth though. Or maybe she knew better than Patti did. Patti only ever failed at her dreams and if she ever really fell for Reza, it wouldn’t last. Patti wasn’t sure if she could handle her life if she tried and failed with Reza. And forever hadn’t been part of the initial deal though they’d agreed to try. Patti trembled. “Good. Once Reza gives us the okay, you’re switching schools.”

  Rose sucked in her breath and puffed out her chest like she’d argue. “But I like my school.”

  “This one is better.” Patti stood to flip the pancakes.

  Rose stayed beside her and said, “I won’t complain if we’re really staying here and you teach me to play the guitar.”

  Wow—that was a fast conversation change. She ignored her sister and finished cooking the pancakes.

  Once she had a stack, she turned everything off, put the dirty pan and bowl in the sink and brought the golden brown pancakes to the table.

  The girls waited with big eyes and she fixed them each their own plate, before making her own.

  As she finished her last bite of the pancakes, Patti finally asked the dreaded question, “Why the guitar, Rose?”

  Rose brought her plate to the sink and then she helped Sara clean up like she was her sister and they were a team. Without looking at her, Rose said, “I saw you brought yours.”

  Patti rinsed the dishes. “I haven’t played since Mom and Dad…”

  Rose tugged her arm. “So get it. Sara and I want to hear.”

  A few children’s songs weren’t hard. And that wasn’t something she could screw up entirely. “Let’s meet in the living room.”

  She rushed to the bedroom and found her guitar. She strummed the strings and realized she needed to tune her old friend.

  She returned to the living room where the two girls played on the couch. She found a bar stool and scooted it over, adjusting her guitar until it sounded right.

  Once she was done, she strummed the chords that now had the correct sound and asked, “Any special requests?”

  “No,” her sister said as she wiggled and gazed up with a brightness in her blue eyes.

  Then she smiled at Sara, winked, and strummed to the alphabet song as she said, “ABCDEFGHIJK…”

  “Stop!” her sister shouted fast, and Sara laughed. “No! A real song Patti.”

  “Okay.” Patti finished the song anyhow. She glanced at the white ceiling with a crystal chandelier that really would be quite beautiful if on. What to sing, what to sing?

  Her sister said, “One of your songs.”

  Patti’s heart froze as she met her sister’s gaze. This wasn’t good. She swallowed back the cold fear that iced her throat. “One of mine?”

  “Yeah.” Rose scooted back against the couch.

  One of hers? The song she’d written for the show years ago rang through her heart. Maybe she could play that and not freeze here. Her sister had heard this before and Sara just smiled like an adorable little girl—no judgement.

  So, she closed her eyes and sang the song she’d written about a boy in high school that never once noticed her.

  The song was about aching to be seen and fitting in.

  She opened her eyes and Rose smiled at her like she’d just won the lottery as she said, “Awesome.”

  But then like a sledgehammer she heard Leila’s voice behind her as she asked, “What was that wretched sound? Did an animal die?”

  Patti’s heart squeezed and she wanted to disappear into the floor and never be found. With false bravado, she turned, clutching her guitar. “Leila.”

  The Persian beauty stood in the doorframe and glanced around the house. “I was looking for Reza. No one answered the door.”

  She lowered the guitar to lean against the bar stool and ignored how her pulse zipped as she said, “He went to work.”

  Leila tilted her head while she stayed in the open doorway. “Was that some new-fangled song you were singing?”

  Right. Next time she ever tried to sing, she’d ensure all the doors were locked and windows closed. Patti walked into the hallway. “It was nothing. Can I help you?”

  Leila pointed toward her car in the driveway. “I just wanted to return a few things. Maybe you can help me carry the box inside?”

  Return things? Leila had items that belonged to Reza? Her mind raced why if their relationship wasn’t romantic, but she turned toward her sister and Sara and said, “Sure. Girls, stay here.”

  Neither woman said a word to the other as she headed toward the open trunk. Leila pointed to a large box and Patti reached in to get it, though it was heavier than she thought. As she scooted it out, she asked, “So, what’s all this?”

  Leila pointed inside. “His sofreh, a fragile teapot, and a few pieces of art.”

  So don’t drop anything or bang against the walls or door. Great. She tried to pick up the box as she asked, “These are his?”

  Leila reached for the side to help. “Yes, and it’s quite heavy.”

  “Ladies, don’t strain yourselves,” Reza called out behind them.

  Oh good. Patti pushed the box back in and ensured it wouldn’t fall out as Leila said, “Just in time.”

  Reza picked up the box like it weighed nothing. Once the box was gone, Leila closed her trunk. “Well, Patti, it was nice seeing you both again. I’m off to show a property nearby.”

  Reza waited beside her and waved with one hand. “Have a good day.”

  Patti waved as well.

  Leila drove off.

  The two of them walked together toward the house. She held the front door for Reza and asked, “Reza, why does she have a tablecloth and a teapot of yours?”

  He pushed the box into the entryway and shrugged. “I lent them to her.”

  “They were a loan?” That didn’t sound suspicious.

  “Yes.” He reached into the box for his teapot. “There’s a tent where they show off Iranian culture at the Asian festival.”

  Ah. Right. She shouldn’t have worried about this. She relaxed her shoulders. “I was slightly jealous and thinking you and Leila were closer than I thought.”

  He kissed the back of her hand. “I told you…”

  She didn’t deserve him. He was way too good for her. But she smiled and squeezed his hand as she said, “I believe you. I just wanted to be sure.”

  Rose and Sara trekked out of the nursery they must have run off to. Rose ran over and reached for him as she said, “Reza, you’re back.”

  He knelt down and hugged both of the girls. Sara’s brown eyes shimmered with tears when she held Reza as if relieved that he’d returned. “I am. Are we ready to pack up and hit the road?”

  Rose met her gaze like she didn’t want to ask but then said, “The road?”

  “Or the plane, to be precise.” He stood up again. “I have our tickets to Orlando.”

  Rose let out a deep sigh like she’d held her breath.

  Patti didn’t understand her sister’s reaction, but she brushed against Reza’s arm as she said, “You didn’t have to do that.”

  He turned toward her, still holding the pot, and kissed her cheek. “I wanted to. You and these girls are important. I’ll ensure Rose is well and that we don’t over-do it.”

  He walked toward the kitchen with the teapot.

  Rose stared at her, again, like their mother. Patti picked up her guitar so she could put it back in the room she was sharing with Reza. He met her in the central great area and she asked, “You’re sure we can fly?”

  He walked with them toward the girls’ bedrooms as he said, “Absolutely. I’m even willing to wear a t-shirt you pick out.”

  Again Patti caught her sister’s gaze. Something was up, but she didn’t ask because she couldn’t answer a question about love again. Instead she nodded at all of them and said, “In that case, let’s get going.”

  Reza smiled and said, “Girls, you better go pack and I’ll text the nanny we’re off.”

  Her stomach was in a knot and she hoped her sister didn’t breathe a word about their conversation. She clutched her guitar handle and wished she knew what was happening with Rose. Once the girls closed the nursery door to ensure their favorite toy is packed, Reza held her hand and guided her across the house, toward their bedroom as he said, “Patti, do you need anything before we go?”

  “I’m good.” She followed and once they were inside, she put the guitar back in the closet. He didn’t question her about it so she didn’t explain. She glanced at him as he held something behind his back. “What’s going on?”

  “One more thing.” He took out the jewelry store plastic bag. She’d only ever seen the store’s commercials and never ventured inside.

  She accepted the bag that he dangled in front of her and peeked inside to see a box excited but shouldn’t be as she wondered what other amazing thing he had in store for her. “Okay.”

  He unbuttoned his shirt and threw his old one into a laundry bin. She stared at his muscles and instantly had that weak-in-the knees sensation as he said, “I want you to have this.”

  She fished the box out of the bag and gently put the bag down on the floor. “More jewelry?”

  He nodded, found a polo shirt in his closet and said, “This is a gift from me to you.”

  Her heart ran a marathon again but she opened the box, stunned by beautiful gold and diamond stud earrings. “Reza, these are lovely.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I figure you can wear small diamonds every day.”

  A definite upgrade from her mall-bought cheap jewels she generally wore when going out. She held the earrings to her ear. “They’re perfect.”

  He waited for her and she obliged him when she put them in her earlobes.

  Then he placed her hands on his chest. “I want you to be happy.”

  If this could last, she’d be happy forever—but she didn’t say that. She couldn’t. She glanced at his lips and more tingling grew fast as she said, “I’m happy with you.”

  He leaned closer and pressed his forehead on hers. “Good. So one more thing.”

  Adrenaline, or desire, rushed through her. “What?”

  “This.” He claimed her lips in a kiss. Her arms wrapped around his strong shoulders and neck, no wanting to let go.

  As the kiss ended, he pulled off the polo he’d just put on. “Lock the door.”

  Absolutely. She followed directions and peeled off her own clothes. Reza was sweet, kind, perfect and for right now, hers.

  Chapter 15

  Patti’s body still hummed. Reza’s arms made her feel safe and warm and being with him was the best thing that ever happened to her. Reza had gone to pack the bags in the car while she finished getting ready.

  Little things took time, but finally she zipped the small bag closed. She realized that good things didn’t last, at least not for her, not since she came home after humiliating herself on TV and never using her pointless degree. The most she ever did was write down little ditties in her notebook that no one ever saw.

  The thought hit her like a ton of bricks, but she shook it off as she checked her new blouse in the mirror.

  The blue was more like a teal and made her skin seem to glow and it showed off her figure. Kind of nice to be at the airport dressed up instead of in her work jeans and ratty t-shirts she’d shuffled heavy baggage around in.

  As she headed into the hallway, Rose stormed in and pushed her back inside, closing the door.

  Patti humored her and asked, “Are you okay?”

  Her sister’s blue hues stared at her and Patti’s skin like Rose was their mother reborn in a six-year-old body. Patti put her bag down. Rose asked, “Patti, can we talk?”

  Her sister had been depressed before being sick, though being here she’d seemed different. Patti pointed toward the bed she’d made earlier and her sister climbed on to sit. Patti sat beside her. “What’s going on?”

  Her sister channeled their mother as she said, “I saw how you acted when Leila was here.”

  Patti’s entire body froze. She covered her lips as she looked to make sure the door was closed and then glanced at her sister who clearly knew her well. “How was that?”

  Her sister took her hand down from her face like their mom had done to her countless times and said, “You’re jealous. Are you seriously in love with Reza?”

  For a six-year-old Rose sometimes seemed like she was the wise older sister instead of a little girl. A thrill raced down her spine as she shook her head, like she needed to defend her actions again. “Let’s not talk about this, Rose.”

  Maybe she’d had to grow up since their mother had died. She and Rose had been so into the daily routine of survival that Patti might have mistaken sadness for worry. Rose asked, “So the answer is yes and you don’t want to tell me because I’m six?”

  Patti needed to be smart and protect her sister in case life here was temporary. Forever was too much to promise. At the same time, the last thing they needed was for her to be sad and moping at a theme park. She stalled and said, “When you’re older you’ll understand.”

  Rose let out an adult sigh like she had all the weight of the world on her shoulders. “I have to look out for you too, sis. You can talk to me. I’m all you have left.”

  Wow. Patti’s skin jolted like she’d just been electrocuted. Patti nudged her sister playfully hoping she’d handle this delicately as she asked, “Can I take a raincheck on this conversation until I’m ready?”

  “Grown-ups are so confusing sometimes. Being in love is easy to see and feel, not hard.” Her sister patted her leg like their mom would have and said, “Patti, you lucked out when you married Reza.”

  Patti blinked and asked, “I what?”

  “You lucked out. I see you every day and you’re happy. But for some reason you’re holding back too and acting like you’re scared of your own shadow.”