I spent all day out today, exploring the town and getting lost in the sights as I searched for things to stock the twins’ space, since it’s time to upgrade most of the stuff I have for them anyway.
Whispering Pines unfolded before me like a storybook as I explored, and a lot of the stress of the week fell from my shoulders for those few hours I spent out. There wasn’t a shopping mall in sight—instead all the stores lined the streets, dotted throughout town but mostly centered around Main Street, which circled a quiet grove of majestic trees right in the center of town. I passed cafes and bakeries, clothing stores and butchers, all the normal things a small town would want. But there were also a lot of things I didn’t quite expect, things that only a magical community might need.
There was an apothecary stocked with giant cauldrons and potion ingredients, a pet store called ‘Familiar,’ which sold a whole slew of items I was decidedly unfamiliar with, and even a slightly smoky little shop called ‘Enchanted Trinkets,’ with an array of peculiar, glittery, shimmery, whirring, smoking objects inside and a definite feeling that someone was whispering in my ear as I looked briefly through the window.
I had to drag myself away from so many curiosities, promising myself I’d explore more once I was better settled. I searched for beds and cradles, strollers and high-chairs, toys and even little baby-orc sized cups and plates and cutlery, planning to restock everything so that my twins had the freshest, most perfect start to their new lives. I bought so many things for them, only half of which I could bring home with me today. The other half, like their new beds, and furniture should be arriving next week for me to assemble.
I’m beyond exhausted, but finally,after a harrying week at work, I’m feeling excited again. So as I finish cleaning all the dust from the room downstairs that will be the twins’ playroom, which still doesn’t have much in it, I head upstairs to their new bedroom and begin to unpack their clothes, video-calling Grace in the process.
“Ella, baby! I’ve barely heard from you this week!” Her hair is in another signature messy bun on top of her head as she answers the call, golden-brown strands flying in all directions as she runs around the house after a giggling somebody. “How are you?”
“I know, I’m sorry. I’m good, I’ve just been so busy.” I rip open a box and set about refolding Rowan’s little outfits one-by-one and storing them in his new closet. “Thanks so much for keeping me constantly updated with videos and pictures, it’s been my shining light all week.”
Grace scoops up the giggling runaway before bringing her now three year old son, Lucas, onto the screen. His blond hair is wild, and his blue eyes are screwed in mirth as he wriggles in her grasp.
“Say hello to Auntie Ella, you little monster!” Grace laughs, trying to keep him on screen.
“Hi, Auntie poo-poo!” he squeaks in delight, before managing to wriggle out of his mother’s grasp and running off again.
Grace rolls her eyes. “The things they think are funny at this age.”
I giggle. “I thought it was pretty funny.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up now. But just wait till Rowan and Rylah figure out you can string two words together. One of the kids in Lucas’ play group taught him poo-poo and he hasn’t stopped shouting it all week.”
Grace continues to walk through the house until she finds what she’s looking for, and her screen flips to show me my twins playing on the floor.
My heart swells, and I stop folding and hold my phone with two hands, feeling tears prick my eyes as I watch them playing with large colored blocks on the floor.
“Hi, my babies!” I coo through the phone, and Rylah looks up from where she’s smacking a large blue block against Rowan’s knee.
“Mamma!” she says as she clambers to her feet and waddles over. Rowan, watching Rylah, flops back to lay on the floor and grins.
Grace chuckles, allowing Rylah to grab the phone and shake it around excitedly. “They miss you, Ella.”
“I miss them too,” I say with a sigh. “It’s been sucha week. I just want to lay on the floor and cuddle them.”
“Work getting to you?”
I’ve already caught her up to speed on the Rhokar situation via text, and as she takes the camera back, I catch her up on everything else in my week as she does the same with hers.
“It’s odd though,” I say as I finish with Rowan’s clothes and start on Rylah’s. “For the first half of the week, I felt like Rhokar would go out of his way to find me and pick fights with me, like he was angry at my existence and needed me to know about it. But then out of nowhere, I stopped seeing him hovering around and glaring. He just sort of disappeared, like he was suddenly avoiding me.”
“Well,” Grace says thoughtfully, “that’s better than before, at least. Right?”
But something in my chest, like a rope wrapped tight around my heart trying to tug me in the opposite direction of that thought, refuses to agree with this for some reason. “I don’t know… Why would he do that, though? I just don’t understand. And it’s not like he isn’t still snappy with me whenever he does see me, it’s just that it feels like he’s… I don’t know, running away from me?”
Grace hums. “And you’d rather he stays near?” She raises her eyebrows, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.
I huff. “Please…”
“Well, he is the father of your children, Ella. Maybe something deep inside you still recognizes this. It makes perfect sense that you might wish he was in your life more.”
Warmth floods my chest at those words, but I scrunch my face, because that sort of wishful thinking won’t get me anywhere good. “This isn’t a fairy tale, Grace. He’s a moody, grouchy, growly ass. Every time he talks to me, I leave the conversation burning with—”
“Desire?”
I snort. “Annoyance.”