Kalon scratched at her broken nail in an attempt to even it out. She sat against the hood of the Cadillac with her curls a mess. She rubbed her forearm where she would undoubtedly have a large bruise by morning from hitting the dashboard. She twisted to stare through the windshield, sighing to see Innit still gripping the wheel with both hands and stiff arms, blue eyes wild. She pushed off the hood and lightly tapped the window.
The window lowered with an awful squeak from lack of use. “Can I get back in the car now?” She winced at the squeak of the window going back up, and circled around as the doors unlocked to climb into the front seat. “Thank you. Are you feeling better? I do need to get back.”
The car started moving at a much slower pace. Kalon eyed him but he showed no inclination that he was going to start speaking, so she went back to trying to even out her broken nail. She would need to cut all of them now.
The scenery was starting to become familiar as the heavy silence grew unbearable. She cleared her throat loudly, just enough to get him to straighten and blink.
“Is your plan to never speak to me again after nearly running us off the road?”
“No. It’s….” He swallowed. “Do you… do you still have him?”
His heart was going so fast she could see the beat pulsing in his neck. Her own heart ached and she gently pat his knee.
“Of course. I would’ve died than let him be taken.”
Innit’s shoulders visibly relaxed as a large breath left him. “What’d you call him?”
“Mal. Shortened from Malvern. Named for my grandfather. The librarian.”
“Your grandparents are being…?” He shrugged.
“Supportive, yes. Grams was ready to hunt you down and flay you, mind you, but she’s passed that. They enjoy him, but he does tire them. My friend helps watch him too. Her daughter is about four months younger.”
“He’s… six months? Seven?”
Kalon knit her fingers together on her lap. “Nine.”
“Nine?” Innit’s eyes rolled up as he mouthed numbers. “Ain’t y’all only pregnant for nine months?”
The car slowed as Kalon stayed silent. It creaked to a halt with the large roundabout at the mouth of Dijon in view.
“That last night… I said I’d hoped for a proposal. It was not only because of my deep affections for you.”
His jaw was clenched, his eyes burning into the steering wheel. “You knew, and you didn’t say anything….”
“Would it have mattered? Khoa says with how you were–.”
“Khoa!” Innit slammed his hand against the wheel rim. “He knows about all this? You told Khoa I had a kid and not me?”
“Khoa showed up and wouldn’t believe me when I said he wasn’t yours.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t seek him out, Innit. Just like I didn’t with you. Had you shown up, or better yet, not left–.”
“I had to!”
“Then, would that have changed had you known?”
“Reckon I’ll never know now.” He glared at her from under his hand as he rubbed his forehead. “I’m no better than my old man now; abandoning my son for whatever reason.”
“You’re being absurd. Of course you’re better than your father.”
“Am I? It ain’t like you gave me a chance to prove it. Now I got to assume I’d just up and leave.” He threw his head back against the seat. “You thought it too, Kalon, don’t try sparin’ me. Why else would you keep quiet?”
She slipped off her bootlets to pull her feet onto the seat. She rested her chin on her knees, leaning up against the door.
“I was pregnant once before Mal.” She tensed as she felt his eyes on her. “I was too young to know. I didn’t learn of it until after that man beat it from me.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “I kn-knew you weren’t like that, b-but….”
She desperately tried to stop crying–knowing Innit would be highly uncomfortable–but all her sniffing and eye wiping made her go harder. She buried her face in her knees, shaking with sobs.
She had been too frightened of a slim possibility to trust Innit, and that had hurt them both.
She gulped at her sobs when she felt Innit rubbing her back. She bit her shaking lip as he brushed the tears off her cheek. She held her breath when their eyes met, and swallowed the disappointment as he pulled back and put both hands on the wheel.
“Where is he now? The library?”
“Why?”
“Why?” He frowned at her, puzzled. “Shouldn’t I see him? Ain’t that why you told me?”
“No. That wasn’t my intention.” She leaned her head against the door. “I don’t know why I told you. I was warned not to.”
Innit’s fingers tapped against the wheel. “You don’t want me to see him?”
“You do not get to assess him like livestock and decide if you’re invested after.” She shook her head. “No. You won’t meet him unless you’ve decided to fully commit to being his father.”
“What are you yappin’ about? I am his father!”
Heat flared up in her chest. She turned in her seat, green eyes blazing on him.
“More goes into that than just making him, Innit! You do not get to come and go at your fancy. You either stay, help raise him into a proper young man, or you leave.” She waved flippantly at the view before them. “Go save Khoa, or whatever other business it is you’ve been getting up to.”
He clenched his teeth. “That ain’t fair. I had a responsibility–.”
“I know.” She sighed at the ceiling. “Trying to save your friend–or however you and Khoa are defining yourselves this week–and trying to fulfill some legacy I cannot begin to understand is all well and noble, but you cannot do that and be Malvern’s father. You just can’t.” She rested her hand on his arm, rubbing it with her thumb. “I’m not upset, Innit, truly.”
“You seem upset.”
“I’m a touch upset, but that isn’t important. I will care for Mal, love him and raise him as properly as I am able. I will protect him until he can protect himself.”
“And I just walk away knowin’ he’s safe and loved?”
“Either that, or you give up everything else to help me raise him. I don’t know if I can even ask that, especially knowing what I do about Khoa. And you’ve made no mentions of Branch when the last time we were together she occupied many of your worries. She’s still acting the rebel, isn’t she?”
His eyes were hard as he stared at nothing through the windshield. “You’re given’ me an ultimatum when you know walkin’ away from my old life might be death for people I care about….”
“No. I’m not.” She threw open the car door and climbed out with her shoes in her hand. “I love you, Innit. I won’t ask you to make the choice. Please, be safe.”
“Kalon, wait!”
She slammed the door and started walking.
“Kalon!”
She kept walking, stumbling slightly on the hard cobbles. She hastily wiped at her eyes, but it did not help to stop the tears. She clamped her hand over her mouth and kept moving, hearing the car speed off behind her.
---
The van was thankfully where Khoa said it would be, with the key in the hiding place he decided on. Kalon had enough sense to remember to fetch them–and put on her shoes–soon after leaving Innit. She had bursts of emotions as she headed towards the library, and veered to the salon.
The door had a ‘back soon’ sign but was unlocked. She went in, bracing as Strauss came barreling from beyond the curtain that separated off the back.
“I'm closed for–Oh, Kalon? Taking a lunch break?”
“No, I….” She sniffed heartily, wiping her green eyes. “I wanted to see Mal before I headed back.”
Strauss eyed her suspiciously but said nothing as she held the curtain aside.
“Maaaa!” Mal pulled himself up, holding out his arms. “Ma! Mam!”
She pulled him from the playpen, hugging him tight. She cried into his brown hair, muttering apologies as he whined discontentment. She straightened, embarrassed, when Strauss patted her back.
“I take it he's still a twat?”
She laughed shakily. “I couldn't demand him to stay.” She juggled Mal to wipe her eyes. “I told him he was a father, and shut him out the moment he expressed any interest in Mal.”
“So… he wasn't a twat?” Strauss settled back to her lunch. “I’m a touched stunned. What was the matter with him then?”
“I don’t know how to word it….” Kalon grabbed one of Mal’s bottles from the fridge. “Maybe our lives are too different.” She settled into a chair to feed her son. “I can't say he's happy with his life, but he's not unhappy. Whatever he gets up to gives him some sense of purpose. I cannot take that.”
Strauss studied her wilted lettuce. Her mouth was a thin line.
“He's friends with that jet-hair knockout that hangs around Bex, right? Does he get up to the same crazy, fiery activities?”
Kalon kept her focus on Mal. “Him and Khoa merely grew up together. He has nothing to do with Bex’s activities.”
“A small relief. It’d be only trouble to get involved with a bloke like that.”
She nodded along with Strauss’s statement, still watching Mal or else risk giving away Innit’s life. She was unsure why it was important to keep it quiet. He had not asked her to and she did not owe it to him.
She stroked Mal’s hair. “I was so hoping you’d start to get a wave, but I think you’ll end up with straight hair after all.”
“I can always perm it.” Strauss groaned at the shrill cry sounding from down the small, rickety stair tucked in the corner. She quickly stuffed the last few forkfuls of salade into her mouth, hurrying to grab her dishes. “Short one today.”
Kalon put Mal back in his pen, shushing his protests. “I better get back to work too. Want me to flip your sign on my way out?”
She took Strauss’s half choking and dash up the stairs as a yes, and turned the sign as she left the salon. She crossed her arms and trudged towards the library, dragging her feet the closer she came. She veered off and headed for the gardens.
She wandered to the stone gazebo, walking slow circles around the floor before settling down against a column. She plucked at the dead leaves on the vines, and laughed quietly when she glimpsed the statue across the water.
She plucked the leaves until two columns were cleaned up. She took the longer route to pass the orangerie. She teetered in the doorway, breathing in the mildew with a scrunched nose.
The sunlight cast red and orange streams of light among the debris, deeping the shadows without giving the place a spooky vibe. She had too many fond memories for that. She brushed the dirt on one of the intact windows to allow more light to enter, rubbing the muck on her ripped jeans. She gave a nod, and headed back to the library.
The building had an eerie quiet to it that caused her to enter carefully. She jumped aside to make way for a pair of patrons; they muttered disgruntledly to each other over the early closure. Kalon quickened her pace–thanking others filing out–over to the front desk.
Grams was behind it, waving Gramps’s pistol lazily towards the door. The unfamiliarity of this caused Kalon to baulk, earning an annoyed glare.
“There you are, girl. Hurry and clear the rest of these out.”
“What’s happening?” Kalon forced a smile at a group of three. “Thanks for visiting. Sorry for–.”
“Don’t waste time on pleasantries. Get them all out.” Grams pressed the pistol into her hand. “I’ll fetch little Malvern tonight.”
“Is Gramps well? Did his back give out?”
Grams turned her hard eyes off towards the study hall. Kalon followed her stare, her heart dropping into her stomach.
Gramps was sitting across from Innit, both with stiffened shoulders and hands clenched on the table.
“You said nothing about seeing that boy again.” Grams grabbed her as she pulled forward. “No. You let Vern sort out this mess.” She waved angrily at the patrons mosying by. “Get these people out! Now!”
Kalon pulled her baton off her hip and cracked it across the doorway. “Out!”
The scattered patrons shuffled quicker, loudly buzzing their displeasure at the treatment. A few took long looks at her and the pistol as they passed, others peeking back to attempt to make sense of the early closing and what the platinum-haired stranger had to do with it.
She rushed over as soon as she shut the doors behind the last visitor, but once more was blocked by Grams.
“Leave it to Vern. He won’t kill the boy. You have his pistol.”
She hovered up on her toes, swaying to see around Grams to gauge what was happening. She shrunk back as Gramps stood and stalked over; Innit trailing behind with his head hung.
“Right, love, I’ll take these two. You fetch young Malvern.”
“Where are you taking–?”
“Don’t dawdle, my girl.” Grams held out her hands. “Give your weapons. And don’t worry about little Malvern. I’ll see to it that he’s fed and goes to sleep.”
Kalon handed over the pistol and baton, backing away apprehensively before turning to trot after Gramps and Innit who had continued outside without a pause. She peeked at Innit, but he was staring thousands of miles away. Her brow furrowed.
“Is anyone going to tell me what’s happening?”
“I’m taking you to the court to fix the family register.”
“Meaning… he’s claiming Mal as his?” She rounded on Innit. “You’re claiming Mal as yours?” Her blood turned hot. “You two decided this without me?”
Innit’s eyes focused on Gramps’s back. “I told you she–.”
“Enough.” Gramps shot them a look over his shoulder. “Both of you.”
She tried to catch Innit’s eye, but he went back to staring into nothingness. The anger was quickly replaced with frustration, and then with nerves as they approached the court. She was nauseous as they entered, trading the darkening streets and weak lamplight for the bright lights of the interior.
“Mr. Gousa, welcome!” The clerk hurriedly came to shake Gramps’s hand. “Not often you visit. Did you find an interesting record we should keep?” His face lit up. “Or, has Mrs. Gousa released her summary, and we need to know?”
“This is of a more personal matter.” Gramps ushered Kalon forward. “My granddaughter, you remember?”
“Miss Gousa, of course, always such a help.” The clerk’s eyes darted to Innit and his customer service smile stretched. “And he is?”
“Her husband. But you know how those damned colonials are careless with their papers, especially compared to us here in Dijon.”
Kalon was sure Gramps and the clerk exchanged a few words about the bureaucratic inefficiencies of colonials–while stroking the clerk’s ego–but she was having trouble focusing. She did not dare look at Innit now. She was worried she would stop breathing if she did anything else but look at the pattern on the floor.
“Ah, right, the boy was named for you.” The clerk laughed fakely. “I’ll say, correcting the surname will make it much more clear which Malvern is which.” He frowned exaggeratedly. “Unfortunately, Miss Gousa–or, no, sorry.”
Gramps waved dismissively. “Pay it no mind. I assume the record dates cannot be amended?”
“Correct, sir. Everything will have tonight’s date on it. I am terribly sorry for that inconvenience.”
“I warned them not to marry outside Dijon just in case this precise problem occurred. Ah, well, it’s remedied now.” Gramps’s keen eyes went to Innit. “And my grandson-in-law is finished the travel portion of his work, so is at last here to sign the birth record.”
“I’ll fetch all the forms at once, Mr. Gousa. A long belated felicitations to you both.”
Kalon smiled at the clerk until he disappeared. She rounded on Gramps. “You’re having us married!”
“You object?”
“I….” She still could not catch Innit’s eye. “I would like to have been informed first. I look an absolute fool standing here with my mouth hanging open.” She continued to stare at Innit with no acknowledgement. “What did he say to you to force you into this? Did he threaten you?” She glared at Gramps. “Did you threaten him?”
“Would that matter?”
“I want him to want–!”
“Hush, he’s coming back. Look pleased.” Gramps smiled warmly, that warmth not reaching his eyes. “So sorry to have you running around when you’re so near closing.”
“Not at all, sir, happy to help.” The clerk set out five different forms. “Unfortunately, because of the error, your granddaughter and her son have been recorded incorrectly, so I need an official name change signed as well.” He looked pointedly at Innit. “So sorry for the trouble, monsieur.”
Innit blinked like ice water was thrown in his face and took an inch step back.
“Nevermind him. He’s been on the road all day and night.” Gramps laughed lightly. “You know how Pistachio is; she had to put her apprentice through the ringer despite the familial ties.”
“Of course, sir, of course.” The clerk forced a pen into Innit’s hand. “I’ll guide you along. Your grandfather-in-law knows all these forms. No worries. Shall we do the birth record first, and then your son’s name change?”
Kalon moved closer to watch Innit sign the forms in tidy letters. She mouthed ‘Llewellyn’ to herself, reading the name over twice to be sure of the spelling. She was only required to sign the name changes and marriage certificate having already signed the birth record and family register.
The clerk signed all the documents in a hasty scrawl, and slammed a stamp on each. “All taken care of!”
“Much appreciated, and I'll be sure to remember your help once Pistachio comes out with her newest work.”
She allowed Gramps to escort her from the court, stealing looks to make sure Innit was following. Her stomach was still knotted and his lack of recognition was making it worse.
“Is there any place you two wish to go? A quiet eatery, perhaps? Suppose even a romantic room would be appropriate. Some serve food.”
“I just want to unpack.”
Kalon winced as Gramps stiffened at Innit’s cool words. She tightly folded her arms.
“Very well. Pistachio and I will take young Malvern out for dinner.”
“Oh, no, Gramps, you needn't trouble yourselves.”
“You two will need quiet to discuss how your lives will look from now on.”
She slowed, stopped, and allowed them to pull ahead. She gave a shaky smile as Gramps and Innit turned, the older looking at her with thought while the younger looked more in her general direction than at her.
“You go on ahead. I have an errand.”
She waited until they disappeared before veering to the clothing district. Several of the casual wear shops already darkened their windows for the night; a handful of those dedicated to women’s fashion had done the same. She passed these without a look, going directly for the brightly lit windows of a night wear store.
She paused at men’s pajama sets located at the front, running her fingers along the folded piles of fabric. Innit had nothing specific for sleeping in, at least not that she had ever noticed. She would need to notice and remedy these things from now on.
“Bonsoir, miss.”
She startled, laughing embarrassedly at the surprised look on the salesgirl’s face. “Pardon, I was lost in thought. Do you have lingerie?”
The girl glanced at the men’s pajamas. “For your husband, madam?”
Kalon blinked at the change of address. She nodded quickly to cover her expression the best she could, and went back to feeling the different pajama fabrics.
“Yes, I suppose so.” She smiled. “He was away for work for quite a time.”
“Ah, of course! You want to make his homecoming special, remind him what he missed out on the road, yes?”
Her cheeks reddened. “Something of that sort, yes.” She picked up a set of red pajamas that were soft and somewhat cool to the touch. “I should get him something to wear as well.”
“Of course, madam. And for you… long, elegant, and silken?” The girl nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes, a bit of class and stateliness to chase the dreary drives away.” She scurried around Kalon, fussing with her curls while dragging her to the back of the store where the lingerie was kept. “Your hair is quite grand. That touch of blue… perhaps a nice, warm cream or cool pewter? You’d look simply lovely, especially if you pulled your hair up to show off your neck.”
She watched the girl pulling long, silken gowns from the rack, chattering about the grace they would add. Her heart thumped harder with each pull from the rack and accompanying phrase.
There was nothing classy or graceful about she and Innit. Their various rendezvous happened spontaneously, at first, and with very little trigger later on. She had been thrown to the dirty floor of the orangerie, and shoved him into the dankest corners of the library.
She cleared her throat. “I think, perhaps, something… rather short. And sheer.”
“Short and sheer? If you’re sure… though it wouldn’t allow him much imagination.”
Kalon smiled wryly. “He’ll be fine.”
She allowed the salesgirl to assist her in picking out a short, sheer gown with a plunging neckline. She went with pink to offset the blue streak in her hair and blend with her skintone. She left, taking calming breaths, with the lingerie and Innit’s pajamas.
The library was fully dark when she entered with the smallest fraction of light coming from the doorway that led to the dwelling beneath. The shocking quiet made her jittery. She found Gramps, Grams, and Mal nowhere in sight or earshot, but Innit was sitting in Grams’s overstuffed chair with his laptop out.
“Did I miss you meeting Mal?”
Innit shrugged, keeping his eyes on his screen. “Just saw him from a ways. Your grampa ain’t want me to be near him for the next few days.”
“Ridiculous. You’ll help with his breakfast tomorrow.”
She waited, but no response of any sort came. She moved nearer and carefully set the paper-wrapped red pajamas on the arm of the chair–Innit flinching and turning his screen away from her.
“I thought you might like something clean to sleep in.”
“Thanks…. You ain’t got to wait up for me if you’re tired.”
“Me? Those dark circles beneath your eyes are stark. When did you last sleep?”
He did not answer, eyes once more firmly locked on the screen. He bit at his thumbnail. His leg began to bounce.
Her own paper package crinkled in her grip. “You didn’t need to come here. I told you that I could raise–.”
“I ain’t got doubts about that.” His eyes flickered up for a fraction of a second to show her recognition. “I couldn’t disappear knowin’. I don’t want to be that type of man.”
“But are you here?”
His fingers paused over his keys. His blue eyes were unfocused, staring unblinkingly into the milky glow of the screen. There was extra shine to his eyes that she thought might not have been due to his lack of blinking. His breathing sounded too shallow for it to be just that.
“There was this time right after Dice started everything where it was just us two sittin’ around, not really sayin’ much of anything–nothing I can remember anyways–and he just randomly says he could see us all droppin’ it and walkin’ away. Said it was early enough we could.” Innit’s mouth twisted between a nostalgic smile and a bitter frown. “Even flat out said it could be good to let it alone, said what jobs we’d fall into in Corner Seamounts….” Innit braced himself against his hands with a deep sigh. “I can’t remember exactly what I said to him, doubt of some sort probably, and he just… smirked at me and backtracked it all. Said he had to keep goin’ but we didn’t need to.” He dragged his hands down his face as he straightened. “I ain’t Dice Rebels.” He looked her way. “I ain’t goin’ to lie to you, Kalon. It’s goin’ to be really hard for me to walk away. I reckon I’ll never do it fully. But… after you jumped out of the car cryin’, I knew I had to come back the second I drove off. I can’t live with you thinkin’ I don’t love you.”
Her heart fluttered and she could not stop the goofy smile that spread across her face. “You truly do love me then?” She held her package to her chest. “I knew I wasn’t wrong.”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “Reckon I should try to finish this up before your grandparents get back. They’ll be madder than you to see me on this thing.”
“Well… it is our wedding night….”
Innit snorted, going back to his laptop. “That ain’t even started to sink in.”
She waited for more, further talk or a look, but nothing came. She looked at the package in her hands, and went into the bedroom.
Mal’s bed was outside in the hall with her room being too cramped. Her vanity barely fit, and she had to climb over the bed to use it, or to get in and out of the room. Innit had just his laptop and a suitcase, but there was no spot to put them, not with the wardrobe packed with hers and Mal’s clothes.
She tossed the paper packaging into the hall, followed by her clothes as she changed into her negligee. She looked herself up and down in the wardrobe mirror, mussed her hair, and leaned against the wall outside her door.
“Innit.” She sighed as she went ignored. “Innit!”
He looked up with annoyance. “What?”
His mouth went slack. His eyes darted between the laptop and her. He shut the lid, tossed the laptop in the chair, and stepped over to her. He carefully placed his hands on her waist.
She touched his cheek. “I’ll be here to pull you back.”
She brushed her fingertips up into his hair soothingly, coaxing him to lean forward into her kiss.
---
There was a flurry of dustmotes swirling in the sunbeams streaming from the windows. Kalon covered her nose and mouth with her elbow, frantically swatting at the leather books before her with a no-longer-white cloth. The dust overwhelmed her. She sneezed.
A tiny, fake sneeze sounded from around her knees in response.
Kalon laughed, chased the airborne dust away with large waves of her arms, and smiled down at the small toddler–blonde hair in two, little ponytails with just the very tips twisted to suggest curls may be possible.
“Sorry, Wendy, is Mummy being too careless?” She took the cloth Wendy held up to her. “Thank you, my sweet girl. Mine has gotten rather soiled. How about we finish up this row and go downstairs?”
Her smile faltered as Wendy settled down to pull at the heavy books on the bottom shelf. She was as silent as always.
She hoisted Wendy onto her hip as soon as she finished dusting the shelf. She allowed the small girl to carry the dirty rags for her and she carried her down to the ground floor, her heeled bootlets echoing around the study hall.
A man timidly approached. “Um, madam…?” He looked nervously from Wendy to the baton on Kalon’s other hip. “If it isn’t too much trouble, would you assist me?”
“Of course, sir. I can give titles, authors, and general summaries if you have a book on hand.” She adjusted Wendy. “Otherwise, you’ll have to wait a moment. I don’t do fetch requests with my children present.”
“I’m trying to better my tomatoes….”
Kalon gave him three titles for gardening and offered to locate a more specific reference after Wendy was safely downstairs. She carried her down, grabbing the rail as her legs wobbled.
“Whew, sorry, we almost went down the harder way.”
She put Wendy in what used to be her bedroom, now cleared of the vanity, wardrobe, and with the bed replaced by a narrow daybed. Worn stuffed toys littered the space, along with wooden blocks. The alphabet was painted neatly on the wall with clumsy scrawls and plain scribbles joining them.
Kalon pulled a gate across the doorway, latching it and double checking it was really latched. “I’ll get your snack. You’ll have to stay here until closing though. Maybe Grams will take a break and read to you? …Probably not.”
Wendy grabbed the gate and held the dirty rags up.
“Thank you, my sweet one.” She paused, but Wendy just stared with big, blue eyes. “I’ll get you that snack.”
She stuck her head into Grams’s office space, hearing the clacking of keys and seeing the laptop screen washing out the old woman’s deep wrinkles.
“Anything in mind for dinner?”
Grams blinked, pinched her tired eyes, and looked up. “Dinner? What time is it?”
“About four, I think.”
“Are you staying?”
“Can’t tonight. I need to get to bed early.”
She squirmed under Grams’s stare, but kept her face neutral. She quietly exhaled when Grams went back to her work.
“We had plenty of ham stew leftover from last night. Vern and I can make do with that.”
“Shall I put it on?”
“No, I’ll do it in a few. The news cycle is rather slow. Rumors too few between.” She gave a tight smile. “Why else have I asked Innit to stay home this week?”
“I thought because Clara started school….”
Grams gave a grunt that indicated both that she had heard and forgotten all about Clara starting school.
“Grams?” She waited for another sound of recognition. “Wendy is in the playroom. Come get me if she….” She picked her ruby nails. “I’ll be back in an hour or two.”
She busied her hands fixing up crusty bits of toast with soft cheese slices on top for Wendy. She felt her forehead as it momentarily swam, giving it a shake for extra measures. Her balance had been spotty since last night. She worried she would wake with a scratchy throat, but that did not appear yet.
“Mal and Clara don't seem ill at least….”
She frowned, setting the cheese knife down. She plucked the calendar off the side of the fridge, running her finger back from today, her eyebrows knitting as she mouthed numbers. She peeled back to the previous month.
“Oh… the lake stroll….”
She dropped the calendar page with a long sigh. She gave Wendy her snack and headed up to finish minding the patrons. She found a small smile on her face each time her mind wandered off, a frown only appearing when a few strands of her royal blue lock fell from her bun. The roots needed to be touched up. It would be months before that would be addressed now. It was going to look terrible.
When she was satisfied all in the study hall were situated, she retreated downstairs to get Wendy. She called out a farewell to Grams on her way up, and headed for the door, pausing to say goodbye to Gramps.
“Leaving already? There’s still some daylight.”
“Hardly any.” She adjusted Wendy. “I need to get dinner on for Innit and the kids.”
“Can’t he?”
“Not if I want to keep my kitchen intact. Honestly, you should see the state of it when he makes lunch.” She adjusted Wendy again. “Besides, he’s supposed to walk the kids back from school. I just hope he didn’t lose track of the time and show up too late. Clara only just started and her nerves are starting to replace that initial excitement.”
She struggled to get Wendy back to her hip.
“Just allow her to walk. She’s two. She can.”
“She can walk once we get to the grounds.” She readjusted her toddler. “Say ‘bye-bye’ to Gramps.”
Wendy silently waved, and hid her face in Kalon’s shoulder.
Gramps rubbed Kalon’s other shoulder, smiling sympathetically but saying nothing.
She had to adjust Wendy every few steps. She was forced to set her down once they came to the decrepit rail tracks, her heels and her balance making it too much of a chore to haul the toddler over. She bent slightly to take her hand.
“Watch your steps, please. The sleepers are quite loose.”
She gave Wendy's hand a jerk to swing her over the last of the track. The faint, delighted squeal caused her chest to swell and ache all at once. She hoisted Wendy up over the short, stone wall that separated the old garden grounds from the city. She allowed Wendy to walk alone, keeping her pace slow to not pull too far ahead.
The orangerie came into view. There were no longer boards on any of the windows, all now having glass–one being stained glass–and a faint, warm glow coming from each.
She let Wendy in through the front door, frowning at the silence inside.
“Hello? Mal? Clara?” She knelt to remove Wendy's shoes. “Innit?”
She pulled Wendy back and took her hand to keep her from running off ahead. The lights were on, and she did not get a sense of utter dread, but the silence was unwelcoming. She lightly stepped further into the house, keeping Wendy’s hand and holding her so that she was positioned to be yanked behind her if the need arose.
Innit was wedged in the corner of their living room. His laptop’s bright glow washed out his face.
She released Wendy to allow her to rush over and collide with his knees.
“Wha–? Oh, Wendy, you’re home!” He set the laptop aside, but kept it open, and pulled Wendy onto his knee. “Do a lot of dustin’ with Mama today?”
“Didn’t you hear me call?” Kalon’s eyes darted to the laptop. “Where are Mal and Clara?” Her stomach plummeted. “Innit… you didn’t–?”
He glared at her. “I didn’t forget them at school. They wanted to play with Isabelline. Said I’d pick ‘em up once you started on dinner.” He set Wendy down. “You can come too. Give Mama some quiet to cook in.”
She pinched her eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have….” She sighed heavily and gave a frustrated wave to the glowing laptop. “I saw you on that thing, and you were so absorbed, and my mind right now is….”
“Do you need more than a quiet minute? I can run and grab food with the kids. Bring you back something.”
She smiled, rubbing the small ‘I’ tattooed on her left ring finger, just visible above a blingy, black ring Innit had given her shortly after Clara had been born. She wiped at the tears that started to spill from her green eyes, still smiling and laughing slightly at his discomfort.
“I think I’m pregnant.”
“...What? How? We've been careful since Clara!” He glanced down at Wendy. “Except that one time.” He shut his blue eyes with a groan. “The lake….”
She laughed but that turned to sobs. She buried her face in her hands and turned away from Wendy's large, imploring eyes. She twisted into Innit’s shoulder as he put an arm around her.
“It's too quiet ‘round here with the bigger kids in school anyway.”
“Sh-she can't t-talk!”
“That ain't what I was gettin’ at….”
“I d-don’t want her to get o-overlooked because of a new b-baby.” She wiped her eyes on his shoulder. “H-how am I going to h-help her talk if I’m caring for a n-newborn?”
“Hey.” Innit pulled her back, taking her face. “Wendy is fine. There ain’t a thing wrong with her.”
“B-but, everything I’ve read–.”
“Get out of your head for a sec, and just look at her. She’s fine.” He put his hand on her stomach. “A fourth one, huh?” His brow knit. “We’re runnin’ out of space here.”
She laughed shakily, putting her hand over his. “We’ll be even more extra careful.”
“We have to be. I ain’t the type of handy to be makin’ half a dozen bunkbeds.” He kissed her forehead. “Put your feet up. The kids and me will bring dinner back.” He hoisted Wendy up away from her toys. “You goin’ to help pick out something sweet for Mama?”
She leaned against the doorway, repeatedly curling her fingers to wave at Wendy as she looked back at her--waving hugely with one hand and grasping Innit’s hand with the other. She slipped back indoors. She surveyed the house for a moment–looking to see if something needed doing–then went into the bath to rinse the layer of dust. She opted to shake out her curls with the later hour and the irritatingly long time it took for them to completely dry.
She continued gently shaking her hair after she dressed in pajamas and walked back into the bulk of the living room. She stopped, staring at the laptop glowing in Innit’s chair.
She approached it, watched the screen pulsate, and shut the lid with a snap. She grabbed it by its handle and yanked it off the chair; her other hand going to her stomach.
“Your father, always leaving this dreadful thing where your brother and sisters can jump on it.” She set the laptop on the dining table. “He’ll tell me about it later.”
Kalon fell back in Innit’s chair and propped her feet up, shutting her eyes and smiling as she heard the sounds of her family racing for the door.
------------------
It is done! I almost ended it with Kalon giving Innit the extra sandwhichs to share with Magpie, but that would've been a couple sentence of that, or too much of a back and forth of him going over why he was going. And this is a what-if or something. Which is also why I didn't show Innit interacting with any of the kids minus the very brief bit with Wendy at the end (and she doesnt talk because I didn't want to try remembering/figuring out how a 2yo would sound, lol). So, when I started writing stuff with Mal I think Minn was about 7 months old, and I knew I wante him to be 9 months when Innit came back, and I was trying to figure out what I'd need to fake to make him 9 months more believably... and then Minn ended up being 9-10 months during those bits with him.
Kid names! Mal(vern) for the librarian, also a town outside of Philly. The girls' names go back to the books Kalon kept in her vanity (the Nutcracker, Peter Pan, collection of Persian mythology, Holy Bible). I never stated it anywhere, but because of how the healthcare works, you don't get your first appointment until you're 4 months along. That's why in the Magpie what-if, he knows he's having a son but Innit has no idea what he's in for, because the appointment didn't happen yet. During the first (sometimes only) appointment, you get the pregnacy confirmation--big duh at that point--and they do the anatomy scan, so you're told if there is a deveoplment issue and what the sex is. You don't get to be 'I want a surprise' they just tell you.
I can't remember if I had anything else to put here because I'm being screehed at, lol. The only part I didn't post was Kalon meeting Bex, which I didn't finish. I'll post her description of him since it's the only thing I really like from it:
The young man passing by the window was unfamiliar. The word that popped into Kalon’s mind was ‘autumn’; all the splendor of the leaves changing on the mountains, the crispness of the air, the sweet scent of petrichor, and the bright sun that brought out the darker shades of everything shifting towards death.
