Page 11 of Eternally London

We all follow Sarah outside.

I walk behind London, who is holding Evan on her hip.

“How long you stay with us, Yondon?”

So, the kid is still working on his L sounds.

“Till Sunday. Almost three whole days,” she answers him.

“How many shows?” he asks.

London looks momentarily confused.

“He measures time by the length ofMickey Mouse Clubhouseepisodes. So, an hour in our home is also known as two shows,” Dixon says from behind us.

Realization dawns on London’s face. “Well, Ev…lots of shows.”

“How many?” he asks eagerly.

“Ninety-two shows, buddy,” I answer, having already done the math.

“Is that a lot?” Evan asks.

“Oh, it’s a lot,” London says. “You know how you’ll go to bed tonight and then wake up in the morning?”

Evan nods.

“Well, we’ll be here for two nighttimes, two wake-ups, and all of the daytimes in between.”

This response seems to satisfy him. He says something about a monster truck, wiggles down from London’s grasp, and runs out to the yard.

Dixon heads to the grill at the end of the deck, and the rest of us take a seat in the patio chairs situated around the table.

“So, how many people are going to be at the wedding tomorrow?” London asks Sarah.

“Not too many. Maybe forty or fifty,” Sarah answers.

“That’s a good amount,” London says.

“Yeah, well, my only family is Loïc…and, well, now, you. The rest are his guests.” She points to Dixon, who is turning a knob on the grill.

“You have Paige and her boyfriend and Maggie coming,” I say.

“Maggie can’t come. Something about too many people out this weekend and how she has to cover.”

“Oh, that sucks. I haven’t seen her in forever.” London sighs. “Well, she has that new nurse manager job. I guess that’s what it entails.”

“And Paige’s man isn’t coming anymore,” Sarah adds.

“What? Why not?” London questions.

“Not sure. She just said he couldn’t come.”

“That’s weird. She didn’t say anything about it to me,” London says. “So, the rest are Dixon’s friends?”

“For the most part. All of his military buddies and then his parents and his brother.” Sarah turns her attention from London to Evan. “Come on, Evan. Get out of the dirt!” she yells out in frustration.

Evan either didn’t hear Sarah or chose to ignore her, as he is making engine noises while pushing a red truck across the yard on his hands and knees. I can’t help but chuckle as I look at him. His blond hair has streaks of brown. I missed how he got clumps of dirt in his hair in such a short amount of time, but apparently, monster-trucking is serious business.

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