Page 26 of The Matchmaker

“Yes, Nina.” I try not to sound exasperated. “I can handle putting together a puzzle with your child. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Her voice is a whisper. “Thanks.”

Her footsteps pad up the carpeted stairs.

Lilah and I finish the puzzle and move on to her pile of library books. She settles next to me on the oversized couch, her little body curled up next to mine. We readThe Ugly Vegetables. Pluto Gets the Call. The Pig on the Hill.And then we read them again. She squeals when I imitate the pig.

Snuggling, I realize this is the closest to normal I’ve felt all week.

When I reach out to grab another book, I see Khala. She leans against the wall, watching us.

“Well, isn’t this a pretty picture?” she says.

“I got takeout from the Thai place you love.”

“Did you bring mango chicken?” Lilah asks. “I’m getting hungry!”

“Of course I brought mango chicken. I’ll warm everything up closer to dinner.”

“It seems a good nap gave me a good appetite as well, Lilah.” She eyes the wall clock. “Looks to be a bit early for dinner, but I’ll go ahead and set the table. We can eat in an hour.” I move to get up, but she puts out a hand to stop me. “Stay with her.This is good for both of you.” Khala heads to the kitchen. “By the way, dear, I checked your steps this morning. I’m afraid you are falling behind.”

“It’s been a sedentary few days.” I check the step counter on my watch.

“You can’t forget about your health; work is not the only important thing. And”—she wags a finger toward me—“I could use some real competition.”

“Ouch!” I grin. “Message received.” She’s right, it’s been a while since I’ve run. Icouldgo for a jog later tonight.

I hear cabinets creak open and shut. Porcelain serving trays clink as they’re set on the granite counter. I’ve told Khala countless times that one of the benefits of takeout is fewer dishes to clean up, but she insists things be done properly. And properly means nice plates and bowls and silverware.

I glance at my watch, then wistfully at the hallway. Once upon a time, we shared more than our step counts. Once upon a time, I’d have walked over, settled onto one of the kitchen stools, and parsed out every detail of Avani and Dev’s disastrous mehndi. I miss those days. When fixing things was someone else’s issue. Or at least a burden to be shared. But this is my agency now. It’s my problem.

My phone and wrist buzz simultaneously as Lilah and I finish up the last book. It’s Darcy. I decline the call as Nina rejoins us in the family room. I’ll call her on my way home.

“Well, that went longer than expected,” Nina says. “But I had a chat with therightperson, and new transcripts are finally,hopefullyon their way. And the other thing…” She glances at Lilah. “That’ll sort itself out.”

Nina doesn’t talk about her separation much with me, but I know part of the reason for the move was to get as geographically far from her husband as possible. Apparently, shestumbled upon his suspicious text message exchanges with a co-worker when they were buzzing on a stray iPad on the counter. Which led to checking his credit card bills and discovering the charges to hotel rooms that lined up with overtime hours, followed by her “surprise” run-in with him at said hotel’s lobby one fine evening. Nina may not approve of the agency, but she’d grown up with Khala as her mother, so she learned how to investigate from the best of them. No one’s filed for divorce, but if she’s transferring her credits, things can’t be going well.

She leans against the wall and squeezes her eyes shut. I feel a wave of sympathy toward her. If this is barreling toward divorce, her headaches are only beginning. Soon there will be court filings. Custody battles. Property division. I can offer my team’s assistance in cutting her ex down to size. But looking at the circles under her eyes, I can help in the way she actually needs right at this very moment.

“Nina, go on and get some rest. We have an hour until dinner. I’ve got Lilah.”

She bites her lip, considering. “You sure?”

“She’s sure!” Lilah sings.

I give her an encouraging nod.

“I’ll be in my room,” Nina says. “Get me if anything comes up. And…thanks, Nura.”

The stairs creak. A door closes upstairs. Lilah turns to me and claps.

“Guess what? We painted a mural in school today! I did the trees!”

“Did you make the redwoods we read about last week?”

“No. I made skinny trees. I can show you?”

“I’d love that.”

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