Page 107 of Show Off

She bounds to the door looking light and in love and so happy my heart melts. I love how my sisters adore their partners. How perfectly matched they all are.

I thought maybe I’d found that, too.

Nick’s booming voice fills the foyer as he gives Lauren a box and a kiss. “Don’t kill the messenger,” he says, looking at me over Lauren’s shoulder. “My man Dal asked me to bring this by. Guess it’s for your book club?”

“Thank you.” I make my way to the door, taking the box from his hands. It feels warm to the touch. As I pull back the lid, another notecard falls to the floor.

Lauren scoops it up, squinting at words I see written plainly in Dal’s hand. “What the fuck is Kartoffelknödel?”

I snatch the card as Patty pipes up from the couch. “It’s a German potato dumpling.”

Colleen smiles at the shared memory. “We ate those nonstop when we were there studying Eurasian otters.”

“That’s right.” Patti clears space on the serving tray as I clutch the notecard in a trembling hand. I barely notice Lauren plucking the box from my hand.

I glance at the card, at Dal’s words written there.

Dal’s Kiss-and-Make-Up Kartoffelknödel

Made with hope, remorse, russet potatoes, egg, butter, parsley, chives…

And a bunchof other things I can’t read through tears filling my eyes. I blink them back to read the rest.

I know this doesn’t make up for what I did. But I hope you enjoy them, nonetheless.

It’s sucha Dal turn of phrase that I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry. I settle for shoving a Kartoffelknödel in my mouth.

“Hot,” I huff, fanning my mouth.

Mari eyes me warily. “But good?”

“So good.” I swallow it down and pick up my drink, taking a sip of mimosa. “The more potato, the merrier.”

Lauren turns from saying goodbye to her husband. “Was that in the book?”

“Maybe it should have been.” I carry the Kartoffelknödel to the table as Gretchen scoots aside what’s left of the dauphinoise to make room.

Jessie grabs one of each and piles them on a plate. “We’re going with a potato theme here?”

“Looks like it.” I bite into a dumpling, then stifle a groan. It’s amazing, of course. All buttery warmth on the inside, salty crunch on the outside. They’re crispy and light and so perfect I eat two more without pausing for breath. “That was nice of him.”

“You okay, hon?” Mari watches me with concern.

“Just burned my tongue.” Not untrue, but also not the reason for the tears making my eyes sting. “I’m okay.”

It’s a nice gesture and shows Dal paid attention when I told him what book we’d read. But it’ll take more than potatoes to forgive what Dal pulled yesterday.

“You and your potatoes.” Lauren wraps an arm around me, leaning in for another Kartoffelknödel. “Damn,” she says as she bites into one. “I forgive my husband for getting in the middle of this.”

Mari watches us warily. “Is this the whole plan?” She shifts Baby Sawyer in her arms. “Just—keep sending potatoes until you forgive him?”

It seems lame when she puts it that way. I start to respond, but Lauren cuts me off.

“To be fair,” she says, “Nick’s big grovel involved worm-filled apples, a misspelled tattoo, and lighting a stuffed bear on fire.”

Jessie laughs. “I was dressed as a bear when Joe showed up to sweet-talk me into giving us a shot.”

Gretchen gives her a thoughtful look. “Gabe bought this place as his grovel.” She glances at me and my sisters. “With the rest of you guys, obviously.”

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