"You're thin and you're lying about being fine and there's a president in my living room drinking my tea." She stepped back to let us in. "Natalia. You held his hand at the door. Good. Emi. Is that the lemon thing?"
"And a strawberry thing," Emi said, breathless. "And a chocolate thing. In case."
"In case of what?"
"In case the first two are bad."
My mother's mouth twitched. "Smart girl. Kitchen. Go."
Emi went like she'd been fired from a cannon.
"Where's Luka?" I asked.
"He had to pic something up at the store. He'll be back soon."
The living room had been rearranged into something that wasn't quite a dining room and wasn't quite a negotiation table but split the difference in a way that made my skin itch. The good china was set for eight. Soomin sat in the corner armchair with her knees together and her hands folded and the expression of a girl who very much wanted to be a piece of furniture.
