Page 184 of Full Contact

“Then ten.”

“Peaches may leave before Cross does,” Trier said.

“Peaches may leave before anybody arrives.”

He looked toward her window bed. “She’s approved the list.”

“How can you tell?”

“She hasn’t objected.”

I kissed his cheek on my way to the cupboard. “Neither have I.”

By Saturday afternoon, sandwiches filled the oval platter from my old kitchen. Trier cleared a place for the cake. My painting caught the light above the couch.

Peaches’s latest bloodwork was on the refrigerator.

“Remarkable,” Trier said as I put out napkins. “Dr. Feld’s word again.”

“I was there.”

“I’m practicing my speech for the guests,” Trier said.

I slipped an arm around his waist. He leaned back against me while I read the results over his shoulder.

“She’s doing well,” I said.

“She is.”

He turned in my arm and kissed me, then took a sandwich.

“We haven’t put the food out yet,” I protested.

“I’m testing it for quality control.”

Anna arrived first. Peaches left the window bed, walked past us, and rubbed against her ankles.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Anna crouched and offered her hand. “Look at you.”

Peaches pushed her cheek into it.

“Hello to you two as well,” Anna said.

She was the only guest Peaches greeted.

Rafe and Niko came next, followed by Rook and Varga. When Peaches climbed onto the little wooden chair beside the counter, one leg shifted against the floor.

Niko crouched beside it as soon as she stepped onto the counter. “Loose screw.”

Rafe fetched the tools. He held the chair while Niko tightened the fastening, then returned it to the faint marks on the floor. He adjusted it half an inch.

“It was crooked,” he said.

“It was where she left it,” Niko said.

Rafe moved it back. Niko squeezed his shoulder on the way up.

Peaches descended onto the repaired chair and sat.