the croutons off the floor.
“You left the best part,” she called to the cat on top of the bookcase. Gypsy just let her eyes squint closed, and Molly thought seriously about rehoming her for the first time.
She quickly washed up and started dinner. Ingrid and Hans had only been dating about a month, maybe a bit longer, but her sister liked him so much. She claimed they saw one another every single day, and she’d asked Molly how long it took to fall in love with a man.
Ingrid had always done things faster than Molly, and she’d always known what she wanted. Molly would be the first member of the Benson family to meet Hans, and one glance at the clock told her they’d be here in twenty minutes.
The rice wouldn’t be done in time, and Molly turned up the oven with the meatballs already in it. She’d just finished making the gourmet vegetables, and they too had to go in the oven. She could slide them in on the bottom rack if she had to, but she’d prefer they get their own bake in the proper place.
With everything bubbling and boiling, she quickly wiped up the counter and her dining room table, trying to remember the last time she’d used it. She’d been eating at Mama’s or on the couch, if she were being honest. Sometimes out of a container in her car, if she didn’t want to come in and get glared at by Gypsy.
The cat had a way of making her feel guilty for eating without sharing, and Molly sometimes needed a break from the staring. She tossed the disinfectant wipes into the trash can and turned back to the kitchen. What else needed to be done so she could entertain her sister and her boyfriend?
Her heart thumped painfully beneath her breastbone, but she thought it too late to root out her feelings for Hunter and somehow get to a place where seeing Ingrid with Hans wouldn’t hurt her.
Of course it was going to hurt to see Ingrid laughing and flirting and oh-so-happy with her boyfriend. Molly needed it to hurt, actually. She’d learned that just because something hurt, that didn’t mean it should be avoided.
She wanted to meet the man Ingrid was falling for, and she wanted to support her sister. After checking the rice one more time, she opened the oven and pulled out the meatballs. There would be a few minutes of greetings and introductions and small talk before she’d serve dinner, and the veggies could finish then.
She scooped the meatballs into the mushroom sauce she’d made and covered the pot with a lid. She’d just set the baking sheet in the sink when the doorbell rang.
Molly glanced around the kitchen one more time, finally looking at herself. “Shoot,” she muttered. She’d forgotten to change. She still wore her school T-shirt, with a giant cartoon tiger on the front of it.
“Just a second,” she called, but she hesitated as she turned toward the hall. Was she really going to make her sister wait outside on the porch in the cold while she changed her clothes? Of course not.
She hurried through the living room to the door and opened it. Ingrid stood there, her hands tucked into the pockets of her stylish coat. “Hey.” Molly grinned at her and stepped back. “Come in.” She looked past her sister to the driveway, but she didn’t see anything but Ingrid’s sporty red car. “Where’s Hans?”
Her gaze flew back to Ingrid’s, hoping with everything inside her that she and Hans hadn’t broken up. “What happened?”
“He’s still at work,” she said with a smile. “They got slammed with a couple of big orders.” Ingrid stepped inside, and Molly started to relax. “He’ll be here soon.”
“We should’ve just ordered pizza and requested him as the driver.”
Ingrid laughed as she peeled off her coat. “You live outside his delivery jurisdiction anyway.” She faced the house and sighed. “I love your place. I’m so ready to be done with roommates.”
Molly stepped past her and led the way into the kitchen. “No, you want to switch out your female roommates for a male one.” She glanced over her shoulder, throwing Ingrid a knowing smile. “A single male one.”
“Maybe,” Ingrid said coyly as she pulled out a barstool and sat. “Have you talked to Lyra?”
“No, why?” Molly opened the fridge and pulled out a couple of cans of soda. “Diet or Cherry?”
“Diet,” Ingrid said. “Lyra told Mama she wanted to move up the wedding.”
Molly