Page 73 of Beyond Redemption

“That doesn’t really happen in my family.”

She smiled. “No, but it’s not impossible.”

I sat on the edge of the bed, resting one hand on Stella’s crib as she slept, rubbing my forehead with the other. “I’m glad you see the light at the end of the tunnel, because I sure as shit don’t.”

Liis sat next to me, kissed my cheek, and then leaned in. “You still have us.”

“Thank God,” I said, pressing my cheek against her hair. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do.”

She whispered against my ear, “You’ll never have to find out. That’s a promise.” She stood. “Now help me finish this so we can test the baby monitor while we raid the galley. I’m starving.”

“Marcel sent a couple of cooks. Dinner is in an hour.”

Liis breathed out a laugh, letting the tension leave with it. “Maybe we should just live here.”

I shot her an annoyed look, causing her to cover her laugh.

We finished unpacking and then took the baby monitor with us into the corridor, checking for Stella’s breath and movement. Once we confirmed the monitor was working, we found our way to the galley and greeted the cooks.

Donna and Janet were in their mid-sixties, mother and grandmother to two of the higher ranked men up top. They were wearing hair nets and matching aprons, moving as they spoke, telling us about their time there and extending their sympathy for what we’d lost.

“Thank you,” I said, watching them stir and chop. “It smells amazing.”

“Oh, this is our Super Bowl,” Janet said. “No one’s leaving hungry and everyone’s getting judged for how many rolls they swipe.”

I chuckled and Liis shot a look in my direction. She was just as surprised as I was that anyone could make me laugh at the moment.

Donna pointed to the cast iron skillets on the burners. “We have southern—of course—fried chicken going, mashed potatoes with white gravy, slow-cooked green beans with bacon, baked mac and cheese for the picky eaters, potato salad—no raisins, so don’t ask—and banana pudding or peach cobbler for dessert.”

Liis lowered her chin, looking at me with raised brows. “We live here now.”

I chuckled again.

“That’s twice,” Liis said. “We may cheer you up yet.”

“You feeling blue, young man?” Janet asked, wiping the flour on her hands onto her apron. “No matter. This’ll have you feeling right as rain.”

“If that’s what a food coma is, then sign me up,” I said.

The ladies cackled, tapping each other as they noticed the rest of the Maddoxes following the smell into the galley.

“Come in, come in,” Donna said. “Sit where you like, it’s ready!”

The kids barreled in as if they’d been released from a starting gate, drawn straight to the table by instinct and smell alone. Chairs scraped, voices overlapped, and for a second it felt less like a fortified bunker and more like someone’s crowded Sunday kitchen.

Stella leaned away from Olive, reaching for Liis with sleepy eyes, and once in her mother’s arms, peeked over her shoulder at the spread. Olive remained standing, hovering just behind Bodhi, her gaze moving from skillet to serving dish in amazement.

Tyler clapped his hands once, impressed. “Y’all weren’t kidding, they made us a feast!”

Taylor, Travis, and Trenton lingered a beat, taking it in, then exchanged a look that said the same thing without words:it’s not that bad down here after all.

I thought maybe that had been the point. Not every meal would be like this, but Marcel wanted us to settle in quickly. I stepped back just enough to let my brothers move past, watching the tone change in real time. The tension hadn’t been erased, but it eased, our sharp edges softening under the noise and warmth and the first feeling of something normal.

Donna moved through the galley like a conductor, pointing, redirecting, filling plates before anyone could pretend they weren’t hungry. “You—yes, you, tall one—take that stack. Don’t be shy. There’s more where that came from.”

Janet put two dishes on the table in front of Liis, one smaller than the other, her expression gentler now than it had been seconds before. “You sit, Mama. Let us do the rest.”

Liis hesitated, then did as she was told, pulling Stella into her lap as she settled. Her shoulders stayed squared, alert out of habit, but when she glanced at Stella’s dish and realized everything had already been cut into tiny Stella-sized pieces, she fought tearing up. She sighed and let her muscles relax. For now, at least, she would let her mind pretend.