"Dahlia is a good girl. I was the one who wouldn't let her call you. I know you're doing well at the police department. You're a detective now."
Aunt Mary smiled kindly. Behind her, Dahlia wrinkled her nose at Nick. "I wanted to sneak you a message, but Mary said that if I didn't tip you off, she'd tell me some funny stories about when you were little."
Nick immediately had a bad feeling. Sure enough, she continued, "Like how someone secretly grilled bullfrogs in the backyard when he was ten, then complained when he got caught that Mary's cooking tasted bad, calling it 'white people food' or something."
"As it turns out, my cooking really is better than hers." Nick untied the apron around Dahlia's waist, put it on himself, and went into the kitchen to heat some oil in a pan.
Dahlia had already prepared the vegetables on the cutting board. She dried her hands and started upstairs. "I'll get a room ready for Mary."
Aunt Mary reached out and stopped her. "No need. I'm leaving after dinner."
Nick poked his head out of the kitchen and asked in confusion, "You're not planning to sleep in the trailer outside, are you?"
Aunt Mary had once had a house of her own, but she had sold it when she decided to travel. Where else could she stay if not with him?
"That trailer is for you." Aunt Mary glanced at Dahlia, her eyes full of amusement. "But I won't be spending the night here."
The atmosphere stalled for a brief moment. Dahlia seemed to sense the awkwardness and forced a smile. "Then I'll go put away the laundry. I forgot to put away the clothes I washed today."
Hearing Dahlia's footsteps on the stairs, Nick tipped a plate of