EPILOGUE
ISABELLA
“Louisa? Are you in?”
I’m squatting down next to Damon’s high chair, wiping away the mess around his mouth. My little boy just started eating bananas andlovesit. He tried to grab the spoon as I tried to spoon-feed him.
I look over my shoulder and see our neighbor, Mrs. O’Ryan, standing at the back door. She’s peering through the screen looking for me, even though I’m sitting right here. I guess she can’t see me for the sunlight outside.
I sit up and say, “Come on in, Mrs. O’Ryan.”
The moment I speak, she sees me and her rounded face perks up. She opens the door and comes in, holding a basket with a checkered dishcloth on top. Mrs. O’Ryan is a sweet middle-aged woman with a mass of curly red hair with graying roots. She’s got on her trademark bright red lipstick over her thin, wrinkled lips, but not much more makeup than that. Today, she’s got on a blue flowered blouse and dark slacks. Looks like she’s headed into work.
“And how’s the wee lad today?” she says, smiling at Damon. Damon smiles back and waves his arms, happy to see his sometime babysitter.
“Messy,” I respond, tossing the rag I was using in the sink. “Today’s banana puree.”
She laughs. “I’m sure he’d love it if every day was banana puree. He’s getting to be a big boy. That one’s gonna be a fine cricket player, mark my words.”
All I can do is laugh. She’s been saying that since we moved here and he started kicking like crazy. I stand up and walk around the table to greet her with a hug. “I see you brought something by.”
“Trying my hand at apple scones,” she says. “Saw a recipe online and I thought I’d try it. Turned out not half bad, if I say so meself.”
“Thank you. I’ll probably eat the whole basket if I’m not careful.”
“Good. I’d say they went good with tea or hot cocoa, but…” She nodded her head toward the window.
I smile and wipe a bit of sweat from my forehead. “This weather is something. Doing all I can to keep off the heat.”
She gives me a careful look, noting my long, dark ponytail. “Well, you know, young mothers these days are getting these short haircuts lately. I hear it’s easier and especially nice in his heat.”
I shake my head. “Arman would hate it, and I like it long otherwise.”
She nods and says, “Say no more. I once changed me hair color and Ralph nearly had a conniption. I thought he wasgoing to keel over right then and there.” She tsks. “Men are so emotional.”
She, then, turns to little Damon, who’s watching us with his big blue eyes, and ruffles his dark hair. “That’s not for you to worry about just yet, little one.”
Just then, the screen door opens and Alexei walks in. He’s tanned and sweaty from chopping wood in the back, but he looks like a million dollars to me. He smiles, and a little of his golden hair falls into his face as his eyes train on Mrs. O’Ryan.
“Good morning, Mrs. O’Ryan,” he says, setting his axe down by the door. He walks over to me and wraps an arm around my waist, giving me a quick kiss. I breathe him in. I love how he smells when he’s been working out.
His attractiveness hasn’t escaped Mrs. O’Ryan, either. She’s doing her best not to focus on his appearance right now. Her face is starting to flush as she forces herself to look at his face and not his bare chest. “Chopping wood, eh? In this heat?”
“I enjoy it,” he says. “It’s a good workout. And when it does get cold, we’ll have plenty of firewood all ready.” He winks at her, and her entire face goes beet red.
She clears her throat and says, “It’s nice to see you, Arman. Well, I’m gonna be late for work, so I’d better go. Enjoy the scones, love.”
“I will. Thank you.” We watch her leave and Alexei goes to close the door.
“Don’t,” I tell him. “It’s boiling in here.”
He sighs and leaves the door alone. “How’s my son doing this morning?” He leans down and kisses him on top of his mass of dark hair. Damon coos and kicks his legs in delight.
“He’s fine. Just finished eating.” I look down at his sweaty chest, imagining all the ways I can lick away the salty sweat from his skin. “I was just about to put him down for his nap, actually. Maybe after, we can have some time together?”
He smiles. “Maybe you can meet me in the shower.”
“Or not,” I say with a shrug. “I like you covered in dirt and sweat.”