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Bill was in the shower rinsing the last bits of river mud from his hair while Matilda sat with Emily and Rachel and described the final moments they had spent near the river's edge relaxing in the late afternoon sun. She focused on the big wet dog and didn't mention anything about gazing into each other's eyes. The nervous, uneasy feeling that had started to well up inside her when Rachel introduced herself had drained away as the three women shared a laugh at Bill's expense. She felt sincerity in the way she was welcomed into the house. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island and watched her host as she prepared to make dinner.

"Emily, how did your date with Marcello go?" Matilda asked.

"She came home floating on clouds," Rachel said.

Emily laughed then replied, "He's... I don't understand how he's not married. He's so nice, so... comfortable to be around. We had lunch, but I was late because a house fire on Blanchard had the street closed. So, he said that we hadn't spent enough time together and he wanted to take me out."

"I was talking with him yesterday after your lunch," Matilda said while Emily sipped on her drink. "He was pretty taken by you too. And that was just from lunch."

"He said that?" Emily swooned. "Anyway, we—"

"Oh shoot! Sorry dear," Rachel interrupted as she rummaged through the pantry, "We were going to have some homemade pizza, but I don't have any pizza sauce. Emily is probably happy. She doesn't care for pizza much anymore."

"I love pizza!" Emily said. "Just not greasy anchovies and feta from Zolla's."

Matilda slipped off the stool and poked her head into the pantry to offer her assistance, "I see a can of tomato paste there; what do you have for spices and things? Olive oil?"

Matilda washed her hands while Rachel pulled out a bowl and spatula to make the pizza sauce. With the tools and ingredients in front of her, she got to work and listed as Emily gushed about her date with Marcello. She was listening to Emily but watching Rachel. She saw her face light up as she listened to her daughter's happy tale and felt a hint of jealousy. She wished her mother could be happy for her the way Rachel seemed as Emily spoke.

By the time Bill joined the ladies in the kitchen, Emily and Rachel were near the bottom of their first beers and Matilda was putting the final touch on a savory pizza sauce. He looked at each of them as he made his way to the fridge to get himself a drink.

"Bill!" Rachel said as she extended her arms. "Where's my hug?"

"The sauce is ready?" Emily asked as Matilda closed up a container of garlic powder, "YAY! I can finally be useful! I love putting the stuff on the pizzas."

"What do you like on your pizza, Matilda?" Rachel asked.

"Everything here looks good to me," she replied after scanning the selection of toppings.

"Great! You fit in perfect; we can just load up both pizzas. Bill, how about you get this lovely lady another drink while we get these ready for the oven," Rachel said. "She's a keeper. Matilda whipped up the sauce while we listened to Emily tell us about her date."

"Beer? Wine?" Bill asked as he looked towards Matilda's glass. "Cola..."

Matilda returned to the stool at the island and watched, while her drink was refilled. She listened to the playful banter Emily exchanged with her mother and Bill moved about the house as if it were his own. As Patrick passed through the kitchen, he slapped Rachel on the buttocks as a distraction so he could make off with a slice of pepperoni. She imagined that the house came to life like this every evening. It was a family life she had never experienced herself.

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