never read older ones.
“Yes. I’m older. By a good three hundred years,” Sofia announced, obviously catching her thoughts. “And no, I didn’t forget about the tea, but we were doing such a good job of getting rid of boxes and bags I decided the tea could wait a bit. I’m almost ready for one now though.”
“Me too. This shouldn’t take long though,” Ildaria said, moving to the electric kettle to get it going again. Once that was taken care of, she moved to sort through the few remaining bags for the sugar. It was easy to find. There were only two grocery bags in the half a dozen bags remaining.
“What’s in the rest of these?” Sofia asked with interest, bending to peer into the bag nearest her.
“Hand soap, shampoo, a cheese grater, colander, whisk, spatula, measuring spoons . . . Basically odds and ends.” Ildaria carried the sugar to the counter and then moved to fetch the sugar bowl and cream holder set she’d unthinkingly put in the dishwasher just moments ago. Realizing she’d have to wash and dry them by hand as well if she wanted to use them, Ildaria set the items in the sink, and then returned to the dishwasher to retrieve a couple of spoons too.
“Plates for the cookies,” Sofia reminded her, and Ildaria snatched several of those too.
“You start washing these and I’ll run down to my apartment to grab a clean dish towel.”
Ildaria glanced up with surprise. “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can use—”
“You are not wasting half your paper towel drying dishes,” Sofia said firmly, reading her thoughts. “I’ll be right back.”
“Thanks.” Ildaria sighed the word as she watched the other woman slip around the kitchen counter to head for the door. Shaking her head then, she squirted dish soap into the sink and turned on the hot water as she contemplated how uncomfortable she was at having to accept help from others. Even after three years of living with Jess, something as little as Sofia letting her use a dish towel left her feeling extremely . . . well, uncertain and awkward. Like she owed her for it.
Although, to be fair, Ildaria thought now, while she’d known Jess was there if she needed anything, in truth, she had helped Jess as much if not more than Jess had helped her. Her friend had been trying to balance school, wedding plans, and constant, exhausting life mate sex with Raff during the better part of those three years, and had leaned heavily on Ildaria during that time. But that had been fine. In fact, it had made her feel needed and useful rather than like a charity case. They’d become really good friends. Almost like sisters as Jess liked to claim.
Marguerite had been different, of course, Ildaria acknowledged as she turned off the water and began to wash the dishes she needed for tea and cookies. There was very little Marguerite and Julius needed in the way of help. And she and Marguerite had spent a lot of time together these last almost two months. Ildaria had come to look up to the woman, respect and like her a great deal. Still, it was hard to accept help from her. Maybe that was something she should work on, Ildaria thought pensively, and then glanced around expectantly when she heard the apartment door open.
“Okay. Walk straight backward, G.G.”
Blinking at those words in Sofia’s voice, Ildaria gave up on the dishes and wiped her hands on her jeans as she hurried around the kitchen island, only to stop and gape at the men carrying in—“Is that a couch?”
G.G. was backing into her apartment carrying one end of a large faux suede sofa that looked very familiar. He was moving slowly to avoid hitting the doors or wall with the feet, but risked a glance over his shoulder at her voice, and smiled, his mouth opening to say something.
Before he could speak though, she gasped, “That’s the couch from Marguerite’s rec room!”
“Yes, it is dear. I’ve decided to redecorate and was going to throw it out, but then I thought, why not give it to Ildaria? She can use it until she finds something she likes better.”
Marguerite’s happy trill was coming from the hallway, but Ildaria couldn’t see the woman past G.G., the couch, and Julius, who was carrying the other end.
“Isn’t that brilliant?”
Ildaria turned at Sofia’s cheerful comment to see her over by the windows, setting down the chair that matched the couch.