Chapter 28 - The First Evening
On Lena’s first night of class, Isabel developed a fever, Nico spilled soup across his homework, and Charlie swallowed something blue.
All within eleven minutes.
I stood in the kitchen holding a thermometer while Noah watched the clock.
“You should call Mama.”
“First, we’re going to find out how warm your sister is.”
“But she knows what to do.”
“So do I.”
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Noah stepped back.
I lowered the thermometer.
“That sounded cross. I’m sorry.”
Isabel leaned against my leg, unusually quiet.
I checked her temperature, called our pediatric practice, and followed the advice they gave me. She was alert, drinking, and mostly offended that I would not let her wear a winter coat indoors.
Nico stood beside the table with wet worksheets dangling from his fingers.
“My planets are ruined.”
“We’ll dry them.”
“Jupiter’s gone.”
“We’ll explain Jupiter.”
From the living room came a worried noise.
Charlie stood beside an overturned box of washable markers.
The blue object, I discovered after an undignified examination of his mouth, was a damp paper wrapper.
I called the vet anyway.
By seven thirty, Isabel was resting on the couch, the dog had been declared unlikely to become blue internally, and Nico was reconstructing the solar system.
Noah remained close.
Too close.
When I went upstairs for pajamas, he followed.
When I returned to the kitchen for water, he followed again.
Finally, I crouched beside him.
“You can sit with Isabel. I’m staying in the house.”
“I know.”
But he did not move.
“Are you worried I’ll forget something?”
His chin trembled.
“What if she comes back and thinks we’re too much trouble?”
I looked at my son.
At the child who had hidden an acceptance letter because he thought wanting something else might be the beginning of leaving.
“She knows we’re trouble,” I said.
He blinked.
“She married into a house with me in it. There were signs.”
A reluctant breath escaped him.
Then I put my hand on his shoulder.
“A difficult evening doesn’t make us unwanted.”
He nodded, though I could see the words had not settled yet.
When Lena came home, she stopped in the doorway.
Isabel was asleep against me. Nico’s corrected homework lay beneath a heavy cookbook. Noah sat beside us with a story open in his lap.
“How was class?” I asked.
Lena looked from one face to another.
Then she smiled.
“I have homework.”
Noah looked up.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
He studied her for a moment.
Then he shifted over on the couch.
“You can sit here.”
Later, after the children were in bed, I found Lena’s notebook on the table.
Her name was written neatly on the first page.
Underneath it, she had written three questions for her next class.
May you like
I closed the cover carefully.
In the morning, I asked to hear about them.
