Page 22 of A Silenced Midlife

"Ava's family helped with the adoption," I chimed in, eager to bridge the connection. "They live right across the field."

Mom nodded, recognition spreading on her face. "Oh, Ava," she murmured. She reached across the table to squeeze Phira's hand. "I'm sorry for your suffering...but thank you. You gave us our incredible daughter."

"Thank you for loving her so well, for raising her when I couldn't," Phira responded, returning the squeeze.

Tears glistened in my mom's eyes, and I could see decades lifting from Phira's shoulders. The dining room was silent for a moment. It felt like the whole world had paused.

"Who wants cake?" I blurted out, desperate to dissolve the thick emotion that hung in the air.

"Absolutely," Mom said, rising from her chair with a determined look. "But only if you let me get it, Olivia. I don't trust you not to drop it."

Laughter bubbled up from around the table, light, and freeing. Dad chuckled, shaking his head at Mom’s gentle jab. Even Lucifer cracked a smile, and Sam relaxed as he joined in the laughter.

"Fair enough," I conceded, a smile tugging at my own lips. "But for the record, I haven’t dropped anything else today."

"Let's keep it that way." Mom winked and began to move toward the kitchen, her steps sure and motherly.

11

AVA

The automatic doors slid open with a whoosh, and I stepped into the grocery store, a list in my hand that was more of a formality than anything else. The air conditioning hit me, a welcome wave of coolness. It was a scorching day, and for a moment, I just stood there, savoring the fact that I was alone.

"Need a cart, ma'am?" A young guy at the entrance snapped me out of my brief reverie.

"Sure, thanks," I replied, nudging the cart ahead of me with one hand as I headed for the produce section. The wheels squeaked slightly, in sync with my thoughts on what to make for dinner. Something tangy, maybe lemon chicken? Or Alfred's favorite roast?

"Hey, Ava," Mrs. Henderson from the hair salon called out, waving a bunch of bananas like a flag.

"Hi, Mrs. Henderson," I said, offering a smile. "How's the salon?"

"Back to normal. Can't keep up with the demand. Everyone wants to hear the story of the zoo animals." She laughed, a hearty sound that made a few heads turn.

"Sounds like a good problem to have." I winked at her.

"Oh, it is, dear. Say, aren't you usually with your husband or that handsome friend of yours? Alfred, was it?" She leaned closer and whispered.

"Alfred has been staying out of town with Winnie," I explained briefly, not wanting to delve into the whole 'my aunt is now in the body of a powerful fae' story. "And Drew's gearing up for work. It's just me today."

"Enjoy the peace while it lasts, then," she said with another chuckle, pushing her cart past mine.

I nodded, turning to eye the bell peppers. As I reached for a particularly plump red one, I realized how much I had taken Alfred for granted. His cooking, his knack for keeping the pantry stocked. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until he was gone. I meandered through the aisles, grabbing food here and there without a ton of purpose.

"Excuse me, could you grab that box of cereal for me?" A rather vertically-challenged woman pointed upward to the top shelf I was passing by in the cereal aisle.

"Sure thing." I snagged the colorful box and handed it over. "There you go."

"Thanks so much, dear. My grandkids eat this stuff up like it's going out of style," she said, the corner of her eyes crinkling with a smile.

"Happy to help," I replied, moving along to the next aisle.

The rest of the shopping trip was uneventful, meditative almost. I wandered, picked out ingredients, and contemplated new recipes. A break from the usual chaos. But as I headed to the checkout, I couldn't shake the feeling of how strange it felt to be doing something so normal.

"Find everything okay?" the cashier asked, a teenager with a smattering of acne and a hesitant smile.

"Yep, all good here," I said, loading my items onto the belt.

"Great. You're cooking tonight?"

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