I did as Lída instructed, and the baby latched onto the nipple and began suckling with vigor. I rocked her gently while under my breath I hummed a Czech lullaby Alyona used to sing to me when I was very little.
Lída watched in satisfaction, then patted my shoulder and said, “I have to go help Nik in the kitchen.” Her husband was a chef who worked in the family’s restaurant.
“All right. I’ll take good care of this little jewel.”
“I know you will.” She smiled at Lara as her mother entered the room and joined me on the loveseat.
“Go help your husband.”
“Yes, Mama.” Lída kissed her mother’s cheek and left the parlor.
“You’re not cooking?” I asked Lara.
“I’ve done my share. It’s the next generation’s turn.”
“You say that as if you’re an old woman, and you know very well you’re not.” She was only about ten years older than me.