The first pot of rice was already steaming when Kaelith wandered into the kitchen wearing dinosaur pajamas and one sock.
Jules heard him before she saw him. His footsteps made a soft, uneven patter across the hallway, followed by the scrape of a chair being dragged over the tiles.
"Good morning," she said, turning down the heat beneath the pot.
Kaelith stopped beside the kitchen island and looked at the bowls spread across the counter. There were chopped carrots, onions, potatoes, and bell peppers, along with several trays of seasoned chicken waiting to be cooked. A large pot of beef stew simmered on the back burner, filling the kitchen with the smell of garlic and thyme.
"What's that?"
"Breakfast isn't ready yet."
"I didn't ask breakfast."
Jules looked over her shoulder. "Then what did you ask?"
He pointed at the stew.
"That's dinner."
He considered this. "I want dinner."
"It's seven in the morning."
"I'm hungry."
"Then you can have eggs."
"No."
"Toast?"
"No."
"Banana?"
Kaelith shook his head so hard that his curls bounced.
Jules turned back to the stove. "Well, those are your choices."
He climbed onto the chair he'd dragged over and rested his chin on the counter. For a minute, he watched her transfer cooked chicken into a large stainless-steel bowl.
"I help."
"You can help me with breakfast."
"No. That."
He pointed toward the stove again.
Jules glanced at the boiling pots, then at her three-year-old brother, who was currently attempting to put his bare foot on the countertop.
"First, get your foot down."
He obeyed.
"Second, where's your other sock?"
Kaelith looked at his feet as though discovering the problem for the first time.
"Gone."
"Did you lose it?"
"No."
"Then where is it?"
He shrugged.
Jules handed him a small bowl of washed potatoes and a clean towel. "You can dry these."
His face brightened. He grabbed a potato with both hands and rubbed it against the towel with great concentration.
"Good job," Jules told him.
He smiled proudly, then dropped the potato onto the floor.
They both watched it roll beneath the refrigerator.
Kaelith looked up at her.
"Another one?"
Jules laughed and handed him a second potato.
She had started cooking before sunrise, taking advantage of the quiet house to prepare as much food as possible. The previous evening, she'd organized her ingredients by recipe, washed the vegetables, and brought several containers of stream water from her dimension.
The water went into the rice, soups, and stews. She'd also used it to prepare the chicken marinade which turned out to be one of the best ways to incorporate it into her family's diet.
Once each dish cooled enough to handle, she transferred it into labeled containers and placed them in her dimensional storage, where the food would remain as fresh as when she'd finished preparing it.
She'd completed three batches already.
The fourth was taking longer because her assistant kept asking questions.
"Why chicken yellow?"
"Turmeric."
"Why?"
"Because I put it there."
"Why?"
"Because I like it."
"Why?"
Jules turned toward him. "Kaelith."
He grinned.
She pointed at the potatoes. "Work."
He immediately returned to rubbing the same potato with his towel.
A few minutes later, Serina entered the kitchen, tying the belt of her robe.
She stopped in the doorway.
"Goodness. Are we feeding the neighborhood?"
"Not today," Jules answered.
Her mother surveyed the counter, the trays of chicken, and the containers stacked beside the refrigerator.
"How long have you been awake?"
"Since five."
"Jules."
"I went to bed early."
Serina gave her a look that suggested she didn't believe a word of it.
Before she could respond, Kaelith lifted his potato.
"Mommy! I cooking!"
"I can see that." Serina kissed the top of his head. "You're doing an excellent job."
"He dropped the first one under the refrigerator," Jules said.
Kaelith frowned. "Don't tell."
Serina laughed and went to retrieve it.
She washed the potato at the sink, then opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of eggs.
"Have you eaten?" she asked Jules.
"Not yet."
"Then I'll make breakfast."
"I can do it."
"I know you can. You're currently cooking enough food to supply a restaurant. Let me handle some eggs."
Jules moved aside so her mother could reach the smaller pan.
Serina cracked the eggs into a bowl and began whisking them. "I reviewed the medical inventory after you went to bed. We need to add more oral rehydration supplies, dental equipment, and protective clothing."
"I made a separate list."
"Good. We'll compare them later."
"Did you sleep?"
"A little."
"Mom."
Serina glanced at her. "Don't start. You're the one who woke up at five."
"Fair."
They worked beside each other while Kaelith continued his important potato-drying duties. Serina occasionally asked where something belonged, and Jules moved between the stove and the counter, checking the rice, turning chicken, and stirring the stew.
By the time Tavian appeared, the first batch of breakfast was ready.
He stopped at the kitchen entrance and inhaled.
"Something smells amazing."
"Good morning to you too," Serina said.
"Morning, Mom." He approached the stove. "Is that chicken?"
"Yes," Jules answered.
"Can I have some?"
"There's breakfast on the counter."
"I don't want eggs."
"Then have toast."
"Why does everyone keep offering me toast?"
"Because that's what's available."
Tavian looked at the trays of chicken.
Jules caught him reaching toward one.
"Don't."
"I was just looking."
"With your fingers?"
He withdrew his hand. "You're very controlling about food."
"And you're very bad at keeping your hands to yourself."
Serina placed a plate in front of him before the argument could continue.
"Eat."
Tavian sat down, muttering something about unfair treatment.
Kaelith leaned toward him and whispered, "She mean."
"I heard that," Jules said.
Both boys laughed.
By ten o'clock, the kitchen had become a small production line.
Jules had finished the rice, two varieties of chicken, beef stew, roasted vegetables, and several portions of soup. She washed the pots between batches, reorganized the ingredients, and recorded the quantities in her notebook.
Some meals went into family-sized containers. Others she divided into individual portions, which would be easier to distribute when circumstances required it.
She had just finished labeling the last container of stew when Daric entered carrying his laptop.
"Dad wants to know if you have the purchase order for the water filtration equipment."
"Which one?"
"The industrial units."
"Check the folder marked Water Systems."
"I did."
"Then look under Equipment."
Daric stared at her. "Why would water filtration equipment be under Equipment instead of Water Systems?"
"Because I made the folders before I decided how to organize everything."
"That's terrible."
"Thank you."
He leaned against the counter and opened the spreadsheet.
"Jorin says we should assign inventory numbers based on the type of supply."
"That makes sense."
"I think we should number everything by delivery date."
"That also makes sense."
"So which one?"
Jules thought about it while wiping down the counter.
"Why not both?"
Daric frowned. "What?"
"Give every item a category and a unique inventory number. Record the delivery date separately. Then you can search by either."
He looked at the screen.
"Oh."
Jules smiled. "Problem solved?"
"Maybe."
He typed something, then paused.
"Do you have any chicken left?"
"Breakfast is in the refrigerator."
"That's not what I asked."
"Daric."
He grinned and returned to his laptop.
Jules finished cleaning the counter and checked her phone. Her father had sent a message confirming that the warehouse security contractor would arrive that afternoon. The first major delivery wasn't scheduled until the following morning, which gave the boys enough time to finish their inventory setup.
At least, that had been the plan.
Her phone rang.
Dad.
She answered while reaching for another container.
"Hi."
"Jules, did you order the commercial shelving from Northstar Industrial?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Because their truck is currently sitting outside the warehouse."
She stopped.
"What?"
"The driver says he's scheduled to deliver today."
"No, tomorrow. I confirmed it yesterday."
"Apparently, somebody changed the delivery window."
Jules pulled up the confirmation email. The date on the original order was correct, but a newer message had arrived less than an hour earlier.
She opened it.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
"What does it say?"
"They moved it up because another delivery was canceled. They sent the update this morning."
"Did you approve it?"
"No."
"Then we'll deal with that afterward. Right now, we have a truck waiting to unload."
Jules reached for her keys.
"I'll come."
"No need. Daric and Jorin are already on their way, and I've arranged for a crew to meet us. I need you to forward the order details and the shelving specifications."
"You're sure?"
"Yes. Finish what you're doing."
Jules glanced at the kitchen, where several empty containers were waiting to be filled.
"Okay. I'll send everything."
"Thank you."
The call ended.
She forwarded the documents, then sent Daric a message reminding him to check the shipment against the invoice before signing anything.
His reply arrived almost at once.
Daric: Dad already told us.
A second message followed.
Daric: Also Jorin says your spreadsheet is a crime against organization.
Jules typed back:
Jules: Tell him he's welcome to fix it.
Daric: He already is.
She put her phone down and returned to cooking.
For once, someone else could handle the problem.
In Tavora, Kian Aldren stood beside the window of his study, reviewing a set of property documents on his tablet.
The purchase agreements for Floors 19, 20, and 21 of Pinnacle Tower had already been secured. His representative in Clearwater had sent updated ownership records that morning, along with a report concerning the penthouse above them.
Floor 22 remained unavailable.
"The existing agreement with Cortell Holdings is still active," his representative explained over the phone. "Their financing is under review, but the developer hasn't issued a termination notice."
"Has the buyer met the latest deadline?" Kian asked.
"Not conclusively. Their legal department won't disclose much beyond the fact that they're reviewing the documentation."
Kian scrolled through the report.
"And the backup offer?"
"They're willing to keep your interest on record, but they won't accept a binding offer while the current contract remains in force."
"Then keep monitoring it."
"Of course. There's also been another inquiry about the penthouse."
Kian looked up from the tablet.
"From whom?"
"The sales office wouldn't identify the party. Only that they're serious about purchasing."
"Are they in a position to close?"
"I don't have that information."
"Find out what you can without interfering with the existing agreement."
"Yes, sir."
Kian set the tablet on his desk. He'd intended to acquire the penthouse along with the three floors beneath it. Having the entire upper section of the residential tower would simplify several arrangements he was making, but the developer had been unwilling to negotiate around the Cortell contract.
He checked the calendar beside his computer. His trip to Clearwater was scheduled for two weeks later.
"Keep the travel arrangements as they are," he said. "If Floor 22 becomes available before I arrive, contact me directly."
"Understood."
Kian ended the call and returned to the property plans spread across his desk. There were other preparations requiring his attention, and he had no intention of spending the entire morning waiting for a contract that wasn't his.
He opened the next file.
By late afternoon, Jules had finished her last batch of food.
She washed the final pot, dried her hands, and checked the inventory she'd recorded throughout the day. The kitchen looked almost normal again, apart from the faint smell of roasted garlic and the stack of clean containers waiting to be put away.
Selina wandered in with her laptop tucked beneath one arm.
"Dad says the shelving arrived."
"All of it?"
"Apparently. The boys are checking everything."
"Good."
Selina opened the refrigerator. "Do we have anything to eat?"
Jules stared at her.
"What?"
"I've been cooking all day."
"Yes, but you keep putting everything away."
"Because I'm storing it."
"Which is very responsible of you. Unfortunately, I'm hungry right now."
Jules pointed toward the covered dish on the counter.
"Chicken and rice."
Selina lifted the lid.
"Oh, thank goodness."
She took a plate from the cupboard and began serving herself.
"How's your communications plan?" Jules asked.
"Better than it was yesterday. I've been researching radios and offline messaging systems. I also made a list of equipment we could use if the internet goes down."
"Can you send it to Dad?"
"Already did."
Jules nodded approvingly.
Selina took a bite of chicken.
Then she stopped chewing.
"What did you put in this?"
"Seasoning."
"Obviously. I mean, why is it so good?"
"Because I made it."
Selina rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."
She took another bite.
Jules smiled and began putting away the remaining containers.
Her phone vibrated on the counter.
A message from Kaelen appeared in the family group chat.
Kaelen: Shelving shipment received. Everything accounted for. Installation scheduled after inspection.
Daric replied with a photograph of Jorin sitting at a folding table surrounded by paperwork.
Daric: He has officially become Dad.
Jorin responded a few seconds later.
Jorin: At least one of us knows how to count.
Then Kaelen sent another message.
Kaelen: Both of you get back to work.
Jules laughed and showed Selina the conversation.
"See?" Selina said. "They don't need you supervising them."
"Apparently not."
"Good. Because I need you to make this chicken again tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"I made enough to last us several meals."
Selina looked at her plate.
"Not if everyone eats like me."
Jules shook her head and returned to the counter.
She had finished more food than she'd expected, the warehouse delivery had been handled without her, and the inventory system was finally taking shape. There were still orders to review and preparations to make, but the work no longer depended on her being in three places at once.
She picked up the last clean container and placed it in the cupboard.
"Are you going to eat?" Selina asked.
"In a minute."
"You said that this morning."
Jules glanced at the clock and realized she'd only eaten breakfast and a few spoonfuls of stew while checking the seasoning.
Selina pushed a plate toward her.
"Sit down. I'll get you some rice."
Jules pulled out a chair.
"Fine. But don't give me too much."
Selina looked at the serving spoon in her hand.
"No promises."