Page 70 of Everything We Left Behind

She puckers her lips, the fine lines deepening.

Ah, there’s his mother.

“Really, James. Close your mouth. The geckos I’ve seen running around here may think it’s a new home.”

Yes, it’s definitely her.

Marc giggles. He snorts in merriment.

“You think that’s funny?” James asks wryly.

Marc nods. “Uh-huh.”

“Hilarious,” Julian drawls in a flat tone.

“Julian,” Natalya warns.

James looks at her from across the kitchen. His hands sweat from the coffee’s heat. Natalya smiles.Good morning.Her lips shape the words. A rubber band loosely holds her hair in a messy bun at her nape and purple semicircles prop her green eyes. She’s the only one among the lively bunch who looks tired. It can’t be any later than eight, but everyone aside from her is functioning on Pacific time.

She flips a few pancakes onto a pile of others and turns off the stove. Then she beckons him to follow her into the main room.

“You don’t have to cook for us,” he says when she starts straightening magazines on the coffee table.

“I don’t mind.” She relocates them to the shelf under the TV console. “The boys love to help in the kitchen.”

That’s news to him. Though he doesn’t necessarily cook any meals. They mostly eat out. He sets down the coffee cups and makes a mental note to go to the grocery store today. He misses barbecuing and enjoyed helping with dinner last night.

“Your mom got here about an hour ago. She knew the boys would be up early.” She sorts the drawings Marc left scattered on the couch. He joins her there and picks up his son’s colored pencils. “And no,” Natalya says, giving him a crooked smile, “they don’t know who she really is. I’ll leave the big reveal up to you.”

“Thanks.” James grimaces, aligning pencils on the coffee table. One drops to the floor and rolls toward Natalya’s bare feet. She hands it to him, which he adds to the pencil queue, then sits down on the couch. “I didn’t think you’d tell them.”

“Claire’s not keen about that. Gosh, it’s weird calling her that.” She kneels on the floor and looks under the couch for wayward pencils, finding two. “Did Marc bring any paints?”

James shakes his head. “I didn’t want him to make a mess.”

“I have a vinyl tablecloth. He can use the kitchen table or the patio table on the lanai. The toy store in Princeville sells art supplies.” She scratches the base of her scalp with a pencil. “My dad called this morning.” Her crooked smile appears again. He likes the way it looks on her. “He woke me up, not your kids, in case you’re wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but is everything all right?”

“Yes, he’s fine. He’s flying in earlier than I expected. Like this afternoon.”

“Ah. Are you telling me or warning me?”

She chuckles nervously and sits beside him. Her attention falls to the pencils, which she nudges back and forth. “I was kind of hoping he wouldn’t arrive for another few days so it could be just us for a while. By the way, how long do you plan to stay?”

Indefinitely.

The word appears on his tongue faster than he can come up with a more realistic answer. He presses his mouth closed to keep from saying it, though he wishes it were true. Life in California isn’t what it used to be, and the one person he wanted most who is there is no longer his.

But he knows he must return soon.

“I’m thinking a couple of weeks, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. You’re welcome to stay longer. In fact, I’d love for you and the kids to stay longer. I haven’t seen them for a while. They don’t start school until August, right?” He nods and she rests a hand on his forearm. “Will you stay?”

“I think the boys will like that.”

“What about you?” Her gaze searches him. “Do you want to stay?”

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