Page 119 of Beautiful Thing

But I’m having a hard time sitting still. Plus, I’ve found that since moving in here at Archer’s place, I really don’t mind doing the dishes by hand. At first I gave him crap for not having a dishwasher. But I often find it relaxing standing here at the sink overlooking this window.

Especially with the view today.

I can see Archer and Sky in the beautiful wooded backyard, exploring. I watch as my boy plays with the twigs he finds around the yard. Archer squats down next to Sky with a handfulof frozen little sticks, showing him all the different variations as they talk. I imagine Archer’s telling him which little branches grow on the different trees around the yard.

Some moments, my baby boy is in awe. He’s taking in every word and soaking it all up like a sponge. Other moments, he’s doubled over, giggling over something Archer says or does.

I’m standing here, my soapy fingers turning pruny as I watch the both of them crouched down on the cold ground, building a little mountain with handfuls of snow.

Watching Sky’s face throughout it all is such a gift.He’s developed so much since we’ve been living here. His vocabulary has grown by leaps and bounds, in part because of the books Archer has been buying him, in part because of their long, rambling conversations. I’m sure my little boy will shock the pants off of Dr. Clifford when we go in for our next pediatric appointment.

I let out a soft sigh, staring longingly out this little kitchen window.This right here…It’s what I’ve always wanted. This little scene right here. Me in the kitchen, taking care of the home. My boys bundled up with the smell of snow in the air, doing outdoorsy things.

The doorbell rings, jerking me out of my thoughts. Grabbing a dish towel to dry my hands, I hustle to the front door. I find Mason standing there, a smile on his face and aKarli’s Kitchenmeal box in his hands.

“Special delivery,” he announces, sliding the box into my hands. “Veryspecial delivery, actually.”

I frown, inspecting the big cardboard box. “What do you mean by that?”

My best friend’s husband lifts a shoulder. “Karli said to make sure you know that Archer had this box custom prepared just for you.” Mason leans in. “But he’s not supposed to know you know.”

“What? Now, I’m curious.”

“Go check it out.” Mason’s already making his way down the steps and jumping into his car.

I call out my thanks as he’s backing down the driveway. Then I turn and head into the kitchen right as Archer is helping Sky out of his snowsuit and boots on the mat by the back door.

“Dinner’s here. Great!” Archer smiles at me.

I rip through the packaging and the unmistakable scent of cilantro fills my nose. Digging in, I find limes, shredded beef, fresh tortillas, a chipotle sauce and a recipe card that says ‘street tacos’.

I throw a palm over my mouth…and I start to laugh and laugh and laugh.

“What?” Archer strolls over, peeking into the box as he shrugs off his jacket.

“You know what. Don’t act innocent with me,” I scold him.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” But I see that smirk. It’s curling one corner of his mouth and making his dark eyes twinkle.

“You got your sister to make my favorite meal.”

Archer gasps. “I did no such thing.”

“You’re annoying.” I launch myself at him, tackling him in a hug.

Laughing, Archer holds his arms up. “Help me, Sky! Help! Your momma’s attacking me!”

My son runs over, giggling and patting my leg. “Up, Mommy! Up!” He stretches his arms out to me, wanting to be included in the fun.

I scoop Sky off the floor and Archer’s arms come around us both, the three of us melting into an embrace.

“Admit it,” I demand, poking him in the ribs. “Admit that you’re behind this.”

“Kiss me and I’ll admit anything you want me to,” he shoots back.

“But I’m sick,” I protest.

“Kiss. Me.”

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