Page 98 of Nocere

"We can just order a pizza. I mean, I could eat. I can always eat." Sam broke the tension and Alex stared at her.

"And wings? Wings go good with pie and ice cream," I added.

"You got it, baby." Sam grinned and kissed me quickly. "And garlic bread."

"I'm in." I pointed at the phone in Sam's lap. "Pull up the food app that we totally abuse."

"We do and I love it," she said and I watched as she plugged everything in.

Alex sat quietly, her gaze on us the whole time. Eventually, I looked at her and she gulped. I witnessed Alex's food insecurity before, and it hadn't been too profound while we shared space until I realized that we didn't often eat together unless I made something specifically to share.

"You're eating with us," said Sam, a brow cocked at Alex. "No arguments." As if her word was law, Alex's posture relaxed. "Yes?"

"Okay." Alex smiled at Sam then glanced at me.

"I know, Al. It's okay." I held my arm up to her and she scurried over to hug me. I gave her a squeeze and she sat beside me when we relaxed. "You're always welcome to share my food. Always."

"I know. I don't want to take anything away from you, Rosie. I get caught up in that," she admitted, glancing between Sam and I.

"Old habits. I have plenty to share. So do you."

"Not lately. I'm not even paying you rent." She bit her lip and glanced to Sam. "Sorry. You don't need this drama."

"It's not dramatic, Alex. It's life," said Sam.

"We got a late start in life," I said, patting Alex's hand. "We might be in our thirties, but not really when it comes to getting settled."

"True. Did Anita tell you that?"

"She did. In some ways, foster kids are savvy and survivors. In other ways, we're stunted," I told her, repeating Anita's words that helped normalize my situation.

"Yeah. For you it was socializing and relationships. For me it was money and being stable," offered Alex, toying with the hem of her shirt. "Though Jordan is great to me and generous. I have a lot of clients, but I blew my cash on impressing a girl."

"Of course you did." I snickered and so did Sam. "But at least it's not Frankie."

"Uck. Frankie?" Sam scowled. "Neither of you should be with someone like Frankie. She'll steamroll you."

Alex nodded her agreement and I laughed hard, my eyes wide at her assertion. "Who should I be with then?"

"Me." She grinned and tossed her arm around my shoulders. "I'm perfect for you."

"You are." I hugged her and returned to resting against her.

"Who's perfect for me?" asked Alex, playfulness returning to her expression.

"Someone who is validating, settled, and affectionate. Who speaks to you with respect and not anger, and someone with empathy," said Sam, tapping her bottom lip. "Sara sounds like a fit."

"So far." Alex nodded and took a deep breath.

"Ask her to be exclusive, girl." Sam's championing of Alex warmed my heart and I dropped my head on her shoulder.

By the time the conversation ended, Alex was all smiles again. When the oven timer blared, I hopped up to take out the final pie while listening to my girlfriend and friend share conversation with ease. Together, the three of us decided on a movie and midway through, the pizza arrived. We indulged together, Alex clearly demonstrating her hunger despite having had dessert first, and the evening ended with Samirah heading home around ten. It hurt my heart to bid her goodnight, knowing what she faced in the morning.

The next day, Alex and I trudged our way to Rebecca's around noon with both pies in hand. We spent the first few hours helping her prepare the sides while the turkey cooked, filling the house with the first of the holiday season scents.

While I peeled potatoes, I couldn't drag my thoughts away from Samirah and her current status at her mother's. I wondered if she suffered, if her memories overcame her. It tangled with my own emotions and the thoughts of my mother that I'd managed to keep suppressed for some time. I imagined seeing her again, standing on the streets of Seattle after leaving work, and there she would stand, staring at me with cold eyes and holding hundred-dollar bills in her hand.

"Rosie," called Alex. "Your salting those potatoes with your tears."

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