running downhill. All the chairs were taken, and the standing room
up against the counter was constantly changing as Noel whirled
and bullied her way around her work space. Everyone was talking
and laughing and arguing at the same time, and although Helen
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couldn?t understand a word, somehow they all seemed to be understanding
each other. It was a Delos symphony, and Noel was the
maestro.
As an outsider, Helen could see Noel for what she was?the center
of the family, the beating heart that fed all that muscle she was
tripping over while she was trying to cook. She was the personification
of a warm fire and an open door, and she welcomed, even expected,
strays like Helen to wander in and eat her food.
?There you are,? she said without looking up from the stove. ?I
called your father and invited him over for dinner. I figured you?d
be too worn out to do any cooking yourself.? She turned the vegetables
she was sautéing with a deft flick of her wrist, just like Helen
had seen celebrity chefs do on TV. Helen had always wanted to
learn that move, and for a moment her slightly shell-shocked brain
was distracted by it. Then she registered that Noel had been talking
to her.
?You invited my dad?? Helen asked shrilly.
?I sure did. Pallas is finally home, and since you?re going to be
spending a lot of time at our house to train I?ve decided it?s time
our families met each other. I asked Jerry to bring your Kate as
well, but she?s working the store tonight, so that will have to wait.
Your dad?s going to be here in about fifteen minutes, so if there?s
anything you need to brush or wash first,? she said, finally turning
around to inspect the windswept girl standing in her kitchen wearing
clothes that were about four sizes too big for her. ?I?d do it