by P. G. Forte
The little boy nodded and mumbled, “Yeshh,” but absently, as he continued to concentrate on his work.
At this rate those waffles might end up being part of Monday’s breakfast. “You know you can stop that now, if you want,” Nick suggested, but as he half expected, Cole shook his head stubbornly. “All right, well, let me know if you get tired.”
The rest of breakfast was either warming in the oven or chilling in the fridge – less the eggs, of course, which he’d poach while the waffles cooked – leaving Nick with nothing to do but contemplate dinner.
After breakfast, he’d put the lemon-garlic chicken in the oven, make the meatballs, and stuff the manicotti. Once all of that was accomplished, there was only kale to sauté, eggplant to fry and a huge antipasto salad platter to assemble, with olives, artichokes and marinated mushrooms, roasted peppers and zucchini, a variety of cheeses, smoked meats, capers, anchovies, tuna – and anything else he could think of.
Lucy had offered to make the antipasto as part of her contribution to the meal, but again he’d declined. It was the first dish he’d been allowed to ‘cook’ as a boy helping his parents in the kitchen, and he’d retained a special fondness for it.
Maybe Cole would like to help him with that, too, he thought, smiling as he turned to his son again. “Okay, why don’t you give me that, now, Cole,” he said, attempting to gently pry the bowl of batter away from him.
Cole’s eyes narrowed. From the angry set of his chin and the way he was scowling, Nick was pretty sure he was getting ready to pitch a tantrum.
Quickly, he took the pan of home fries from the oven and spooned a few of them onto a plate. “Here, try these potatoes. Tell me if they’re good.”
For an instant, Cole’s eyes narrowed even more, but then he smiled, reaching eagerly for the plate in Nick’s hand. Nick smiled, too. Despite his own mother’s insistence that Cole was the image of Nick as a baby, Nick didn’t think it was an easy call to make. It was hard to determine which of his parents Cole most resembled. Until he smiled, and then it was no contest. He was Scout all over, when he smiled.
“Happy birthday, Dad,” his daughter, Kate, murmured, drifting into the kitchen to give him a hug.
Nick hugged her back. “Thanks, sweetie. Are you ready for breakfast? I was just about to start the waffles.”
“Okay,” Kate replied agreeably. She smiled at her brother. “Are those good, Cole? Can I have one?”
Cole stopped chewing and looked at her. It was hard to know what he was thinking, but no was his favorite new word, and Nick would have been not at all surprised if he used it now. Instead, Cole extended his hand, and the very soggy looking potato he’d been clutching, toward his sister.
“Mmm. Yum, yum,” Kate said, only pretending to eat it.
Nick smiled at his children. He didn’t have a lot of personal experience with sibling relationships, but he was surprised and gratified by how well his kids seemed to get along. Probably the age difference helped with that, he thought. Still, a toddler and a teenager? He must have been out of his mind starting a second family when he was already in his forties. But, crazy or not, it was what Scout wanted, and he knew he wouldn’t have done a single thing differently.
However, given how strained things had become between them; how moody and short tempered he’d been of late, he wondered if she realized that was still true? Maybe, it was time he made sure she did.
“I tell you what, Kate,” he said, as he poured some coffee into a mug. “Keep an eye on Cole for a couple of minutes, while I go upstairs and wake Scout. Then we can all have breakfast together.”
* * *
His wife was still asleep when Nick entered their bedroom. The morning sun streaked through the windows to bathe her in its light. He stood by the bedside for a moment, just watching her sleep. There were times, and this was one of them, when he would look at her and the years would roll away, and he would find himself face to face with the girl he’d first fell in love with, half a lifetime ago.
And girl was exactly the right word, too, he thought, feeling slightly rueful as he contemplated the facts. Scout had been just sixteen when he met her, only two years old than Kate was now. If Nick had a time machine, he’d be tempted to go back and give his younger self hell for some of the things he’d thought about doing back then. Not to mention the things he’d actually done.
But, even if that was his intention, he very much doubted that was the way such a visit would go down. “Grab her,” he’d be more likely to counsel the young man he’d been. “Hold on tight. Don’t let her go. Don’t let them take her away from you. If you lose her now, it will be years before you see her again.”
With the weight of all those years of separation still pressing on his soul Nick abandoned his original plans for waking Scout with a simple kiss. He set the coffee down on the night table, removed his clothes and crawled back into bed beside her, giving silent thanks for the fact that his wife always slept in the nude. It would save them time.
“Hey,” Scout greeted him softly, coming awake as he rolled her into his arms.
“Morning,” he mumbled in reply, gazing into her smoky hazel eyes and seeing all the love he felt for her reflected right back at him. He pulled her even closer then, reveling in the warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, things he’d missed for almost half his life and still couldn’t get enough of. He crushed her to him and kissed her long and hard, wanting to melt right into her, to erase all the years of sadness, every angry or unkind word he’d ever spoken, every injustice he’d ever done. There was more than one way to find absolution and grace.
“I can see you’re in a good mood this morning,” Scout observed with a chuckle when his mouth finally left hers and began to trail kisses down her neck. He shoved the blankets away from them both as he worked his way downward.
“Well, it’s my birthday,” he reminded her as first his hands then his mouth found her breasts. “So, why shouldn’t I be?”
“Mm. That’s true,” she murmured arching against him as his lips teased her nipples. “Happy birthday.”
“Thank you,” he said, sliding further down her body, pausing at her navel to lave it with his tongue.
Scout giggled. “So, what’s the plan, here? You looking for your present? Think you’re gonna find it down there?”
“Yeshh,” Nick mumbled indistinctly, his lips pressed against her stomach. He was surprised by how much like Cole’s his voice sounded right now. He guessed there was no mystery about where the boy got his tunnel vision from. He could see where he was going to have to have a serious talk with his son when he got a little older.
“Don’t you think you’ve got things a little backwards?” Scout asked, her voice turning raspy, as he parted her thighs, and then used the pad of his thumb to stroke her clitoris. “Aren’t I supposed to be giving you a present today, rather than the other way around?”
“Same difference,” he shrugged, stroking again.
She gasped softly. “Well, my birthday’s coming up in a couple of weeks, you know. Kinda makes me wonder how you’re gonna want to celebrate that?”
“Like this,” he said as he looked up at her and smiled, as he buried a finger inside her wet heat. “Exactly like this.”
Scout’s eyes went dark, and she reached for him. Nick slid back up her body to cover her. Their lips met, her hands tangled in his hair, and then, just as he was about to enter her, a cry broke out from downstairs.
Nick groaned in frustration as Cole’s howling was joined by the sound of Kate’s voice, as it floated up from the downstairs hallway. “Daddy! Aren’t you coming back down? Cole’s crying. I think he’s hungry.”
Scout sighed softly, sadly, as he broke off their kiss and rested his forehead against hers. “I guess we should get down there.”
He shook his head. “Yeah. I guess. I’ll go.” Considering how often they’d been interrupted like this, he supposed he should be used to it by now, but he wasn’t. It didn’t appear he ever
would be.
“You know, there’s always later,” she reminded him as her hands stroked down his neck and across his shoulders. “We still have tonight. It’ll be dark. Quiet. We can take our time. And, that way... well, at least you’ll have something to look forward to all day. That’s something, isn’t it?”
He nodded. She was right, he supposed. They would have tonight. And, as long as neither of the kids got sick or had nightmares, as long as nothing else occurred to disturb the rhythm of their lives, that would indeed be something to look forward to. But, all the same, “I’d still rather have something to look back on,” he said as he reluctantly lifted himself away from her. “The past is a lot less iffy than the future, you know.”
“I know.” She nodded sadly.
He handed her the mug he’d brought her. “At least your coffee’s still warm,”
Eyebrows rising, she looked at the mug, and then at him. “You’ve been up already?”
He tugged his shirt over his head and smiled at her surprise. “Of course. I’ve been up for hours. I’ve been cooking. Breakfast is all ready to go. I’ve got the sauce started for dinner, the meatballs ready to brown, and the chicken prepped for the oven. Cole’s been helping me.”
“Don’t you think he’s a little young to start training as a sous chef?”
Nick slid his feet into his jeans and then stood to button them. “Nah. You’re never too young to learn to cook. Besides, it’s good memories. I wish my own father had started me out a little younger. As it is, we had so little time together... ” His father had died while he was still in pre-school. He’d hardly gotten a chance to know him. And that was something he’d always regretted.
Nick’s mind wandered off for a moment as he thought about it. Finally, he shook himself back to reality, surprised to see that Scout’s eyes had gone dark. The mug she was holding seemed to shake in her hands. Too late he remembered that she had lost her father young, as well.
“Ah, what’re you going to do?” he said with a shrug, as he reached out a hand to her. She clasped it tightly and, just as he suspected, her fingers were trembling. “Don’t think about it,” he ordered quietly. “It’s in the past. Nothing to do about it now, right?”
She nodded solemnly.
Nick forced a smile. He still hadn’t told her how he felt, how blessed he was to have her in his life again – finally. But that could wait, he decided. He didn’t want to bring up any more painful memories, right now. He didn’t want anything sad to spoil today. “Okay, so, I’m gonna go start the eggs and the waffles. You’re getting up, right?”
She nodded again; still looking a little too solemn, he thought, as he bent to give her one last kiss on the cheek. “Don’t be too long. We’ve got a couple of hungry kids waiting for us downstairs. I suspect we’ll have a riot on our hands if we don’t feed ‘em soon.”
* * *
Scout sipped her coffee, wishing the brew could dispel some of the heaviness that had settled on her spirit the minute Nick began to talk about his childhood, and the loss of his father. She’d been fine, up until that point; until he’d touched her hand, and the image of a lonely little boy who missed his daddy had seared itself into her brain.
But was the little boy Nick? Or Cole?
The scene was just vague enough that she couldn’t be sure. And the uncertainty was like an itch that begged her to scratch it. Because, she could be sure, if she wanted to; if she extended her mind just the littlest bit; if she reached for it.
But that meant using powers she wasn’t sure she could control. It meant going back on her word. It meant lying. And that was something she’d been accused of doing too many times.
But, what if it’s important, an insidious little voice whispered in her mind.
What if it was a vision, sent to her for a reason? Not just a trick employed by that small part of her subconscious that urged her to use the abilities she’d been given. That insisted they were gifts – precious gifts, the kind it was a sin to waste.
She knew where that kind of thinking would lead her, and that was one road she did not want to travel. Not yet.
She was tempted to curl back up in the blankets, pull them over her head, go back to sleep, pretend that none of it had happened, that the past six months had been nothing but a dream.
Not that her actual dreams had been all that comforting of late. They weren’t bad, exactly – at least not so far as she could remember – but they were odd, disturbing. And, they, too, left her with the vague impression that she was missing something. Something vital. Important. Key. As though a message she couldn’t understand, about something she couldn’t afford to lose, was going unheard.
It worried her. It nagged at her mind. And if today were any other day, maybe she would go back to bed – if only to try and recapture her all too elusive dreams. Not even Nick could find fault with that. After all, everybody had dreams, didn’t they? It didn’t make her a freak. In fact, it wasn’t even healthy not to dream.
But today wasn’t any other day. It was Nick’s birthday. And the rest of her family was already downstairs, waiting breakfast on her.
Her dreams would have to wait for another night, she decided, pushing away her worries even as she pushed back the covers and got up.
She dressed quickly, and then paused to make the bed. Despite her resolve to ignore such things, she couldn’t suppress a shiver as her hands smoothed the blankets over Nick’s side, as she felt the coldness, the emptiness there.
Stop being so silly, she ordered herself. It’s just that he’s been up for so long – hours, he’d said. Of course the bed’s not warm.
She hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, pausing just inside the door to smile at the scene before her. It was all so perfect. Her happy little family. Her happy little home. It was everything she’d ever wanted, everything she’d ever wished for.
The children were in their chairs, busily eating their waffles, while Nick tended the stove. This domesticity was a side of her husband Scout hadn’t even guessed at, all those years ago when they first met, when she first fell in love with him.
But he was so clearly in his element here. In the kitchen. Surrounded by his family. Surrounded by the rich fragrances that rose from the stove and the oven. Heady, delectable fragrances that were almost a meal in themselves; that vied with the flavors of the food he prepared, competing to see which could be more delicious.
Cole looked up and saw her and crowed in delight, reaching chubby arms out to her. Kate glanced up, too, and smiled in greeting. And then Nick turned. And he smiled.
And the perfect moment disappeared.
Scout shuddered as the entire scene, the entire kitchen, seemed to dissolve before her eyes; as though frost flowers had bloomed to life in the air around her, clouding her vision, obscuring her sight.
Nick was at her side in an instant. She felt his arm at her waist, supporting her; she heard his voice in her ear. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?”
She nodded, clutching at his arm as her vision slowly returned to normal. “Just dizzy,” she murmured, still shivering from the shock it had given her. “I guess I must have gotten up too fast.”
“Well, here, sit down,” Nick ordered, guiding her to the table, gently pushing her into her chair. “You still look like you’re about to pass out. And, breathe, okay? You’re scaring everyone.”
Everyone? Or just you, she wondered, as Cole, having finally succeeded in wiggling free of his seat, ran to her, begging to be picked up.
“C’mon, Cole, leave Mommy alone,” Nick urged, even as she pulled her son onto her lap and wrapped her arms around him.
“It’s okay,” Scout insisted quietly, tightening her hold on the boy. “He can stay here. I’m all right now.”
“You’re sure?” Nick asked, not looking scared at all, now. Looking angry.
She nodded again. He probably is angry, she thought sadly. This was everything they hadn’t wanted to happen, everything they’d tried for six mon
ths to avoid.
They should have known better.
It didn’t matter how much you wanted it. You couldn’t cheat Fate, no matter how hard you tried. She smiled weakly, apologetically. “I probably just didn’t get enough coffee yet, that’s all.”
“Well, I’ll get you some more then.” Nick moved toward the stove. He sounded relieved to be doing something. “I’ll get you some food, too.”
“That would be nice,” Scout murmured, kissing the top of Cole’s head as she cuddled him close. Smiling reassurance at Kate. Trying to catch her breath, to regroup, to readjust her thinking. Trying to deal with the crushing insight that had momentarily blinded her. Her first real premonition.
Her perfect life, her perfect world, her perfect moment, was about to end in disaster. She wasn’t sure exactly how or when, or even why. Only that it was soon. And inevitable. And no more than she should have been expecting.
Because anything this perfect, was too perfect to last.
* * *
As the day progressed, Scout’s mood grew steadily worse. She lingered over breakfast, over dishes, using pretext after pretext to explain her presence in the kitchen. She was reluctant to let Nick out of her sight for even a moment, for fear he’d disappear. She was reluctant to come too close to him, as well, for fear of what his touch would tell her.
She was afraid of what he might see in her eyes, or what she might see in his. And with each hour that passed, it became harder to breathe. She tried to hide her discomfort, tried to pretend that nothing was wrong. But she could tell when he began to sense it. She could tell when his pleasure in her company turned slowly, insidiously to annoyance.
He did a good job of hiding it, though. So good, in fact, that if she had only his outward appearance to go by, she might have missed the slight tightening of his jaw, the subtle and totally misleading softness in his voice. But she had moved beyond the surface now, to a place where facades were so useless, they might as well be transparent.
She watched as Nick and Cole constructed two huge antipasto platters, with Cole standing on a chair in order to reach the table, and only a handful of ingredients landing on the floor, where they were quickly gobbled up by the dogs. When the platters were assembled, Nick set their son down and suggested he go and see what his sister was up to.
