Page 46 of Unwanted Vows

“Would you tell me a story?” I ask, after we sit silently for a while.

“If I can think of a good one,” he says.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “I feel like we should talk about things, but I don’t know how to start.”

“I have a good idea,” he says. “But you might have to help me with parts of it.”

“Oh?” she asks.

He begins, “Once upon a time in New York City, there lived a brave and beautiful girl named Madeline . . .”

It took a while, but we told each other the story of the years that we had been apart. At least some of the story.

I tell the story of how social workers seem to look down on single mothers, or at least it had seemed to me that they did. “When Paul was a baby,” I told him, “I signed up for WIC. Only certain foods qualify for the vouchers. Most of the time that’s fine, because it is milk, cheese, fruit juice, and similar things. But I attended a class on nutrition, and the instructor tried to tell me that Very Berry Cereal was better nutritionally than my homemade breakfast bars.”

“Is it?” he asks

I shake my head.“There is so much sugar in that cereal, it’s unbelievable. I sweeten my bars with applesauce.”

“You’ll have to make some for us,” he says. “They sound good.”

“Maybe on a weekend,” I say, thinking of the amount of time it takes to make them. “Your turn. Tell me something about Africa.”

“Well,” he says,“There was the time that Leland took me with him on safari. He was guiding this bunch of tourists who wanted to take pictures of the wildlife.”

“That sounds fun,” she says.

“It was,” I say. “Leland knew where all the animals with young babies were located in the preserve. I think the best part of the trip was sitting very still in a blind, watching lion cubs romp together. Or maybe it was the young wildebeests playing. We had a good time, and the tourist group gave Leland a big tip. He used most of it to buy supplies, but we went into town and bought more books for Old Emily so she wouldn’t have to tell the same stories all the time.”

“I would like to see the babies, sometime,” I say with a yawn. Sleep is finally catching up with me.

I stretch out on my bed shelf, and Andrew stretches out on his. We hold hands and soon we are both asleep.

UNDER SIEGE AT BREAKFAST

ANDREW

I am up and making coffee when there comes a knock on the door. Yeah, yeah, I know. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke or action thriller. But that really is how the day started.

I thought it likely that the person at the door would be Austin. But when I answered it, Charles Emory and my brother, Richard Lane, stand on the doorstep.

“You are moving today,” Charles said. It was a statement, not a question.

“Reckon so,” I say, opening the door wider. “I’m making coffee. You want some? Maddy and Paul are still asleep.” Then I realize that it isn’t quite true. The door to the pantry is closed, and I can hear the shower running in the half bath just beyond the kitchen.

“Look at you, all domestic,” Richard teases, as I return to my task.

“Look, yourself, little brother,” I return, “I was making coffee before you were able to reach the counter. The cooks could never get it right. You want stove top, drip brew, cold brew or Keurig?”

“Whatever you are having will be fine,” Charles put in. Clearly, he could see a family spat brewing.

I was making stove top in a percolator I had found on Maddy’s shelf next to her hazelnut coffee. I hoped I’d made enough for her, and our unexpected guests.

Fortunately, the coffee was just beginning to bubble into the clear bulb at the top when Maddy entered the kitchen wearing my robe again. Man, she looked hot in it! It made me deeply regret our lack of privacy.

I made up my mind to gift the robe to her as soon as we were alone. And have it off her…hopefully, without interruptions…but that wasn’t likely to happen this morning.

Maddy, realizing we were not alone, cinches the robe a little tighter, and puts on a polite smile.

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