Page 7 of Kiss Across the Universe
The woodpile under the denuded trees out the front of the house was even larger than the last time she had seen it.FarandAtharand perhaps even Taylor, too, had been adding to the stumps and logs over the summer. A tarpaulin kept most of the pile dry and clear of snow. One corner of the tarp had been pulled back to give access to the timber beneath.
The already split wood lived under a lean-to on the side of the house facing the mountain. Alannah would most likely end up carting wood into the house at least once while she was here because she felt the cold more than anyone else except Marit. Marit lived in Western Australia, which had virtually the same climate as California. They both liked to stoke the stove in the front room and huddle by it.
Alannah moved up onto the verandah, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. “Hello?Far? Mom?Athar? I’m here!”
The younger kids were in the front room. Edgard had the hockey on—big surprise, there—while Micheline read her precious gardening books beside him. Aimee and Liberty were battling each other with some obscure coding thing that only they thought was fun.
Alannah waved at them, but they barely looked around. That was okay, though. She would catch up with them later.
“Alannah?” her mother called from the dining room. Alannah headed in that direction, and met Taylor in the back hall.
“There you are,” Taylor said, hugging her. “I think you’re the last to arrive.”
“It sounds like,” Alannah said in agreement, for the din of conversations could be heard in all directions. “Do they need more help in the kitchen?”
“You can always ask,” Taylor said complacently. “I’m finishing up the buffet table. How’s L.A.?”
“Warmer than here,” Alannah said, pulling off the backpack and then the heavy coat. “I’ll put this in my old room…unless someone is using it?”
“Not tonight,” Taylor said. “I’ll head back. You know the way.” She patted Alannah’s cheek, then headed back toward the dining room.
Lately, Alannah had found any motherly gesture coming from Taylor a bit startling and now she realized why. Taylor seemed too young. She didn’t look old enough to be Alannah’s mother, that was for sure.
Alannah watched Taylor walking away, in skinny jeans and a striped top that hugged her curves, her hair—utterly without grey—pulled up into a casual ponytail at the back of her head. She realized that Taylor might even look younger than her, now. After all, she had stopped aging when Alannah was a small child.
It was another disturbing sign that her parents’ lives were separating from hers in ways that most people wouldn’t understand.
Alannah trudged up the stairs. She could hear that the smaller children were in the reading nook, safely behind stair barricades, where dozens of soft toys would be spread upon the carpet and the sectional sofas with their overstuffed cushions would give them something to bounce off or climb upon.
At the top of the stairs, where she would have turned right, then right again to continue down the passage to her room, Alannah paused to look to her left and check the children.
Her jaw sagged, as her brain seemed to pick up and twist on its stalk, imparting a dizzy sense of unreality.
Kit McDonald sat on the thick carpet, his knees crossed, a stuffie in one hand. Maggie, one of the twins, stood next to his knee, a bright parrot-shaped stuffie in hand. She was trying to reach for the blue jay stuffie Kit held, but her arms weren’t long enough.
Christian, one of the triplets, was also standing. He was behind Kit, and hanging onto Kit’s shoulder as his precarious balance shifted and his knees threatened to give out. As Alannah watched, Kit reached around behind him with his spare hand and steadied Christian. At least, she thought it was Christian. The triplets were still completely identical and hard to tell apart, while the twins, Maggie and India, were already three years old and starting to show separate personalities and clothing preferences.
Denis and Raphael, the other two triplets, were over by the corner sofa, both on their hands and knees and batting at fleece balls, making them roll along the front edge of the sofa. One of them was stuck in the corner.
Sitting in the corner of the sofa, playing a game on a Game Boy, was Jason. Jason was London, Neven and Remi’s son, and as dark-haired as Neven, with the same olive skin. Alannah thought he was around nine years old by now. Why he wasn’t in the front room with his siblings was a mystery.
A jumbo coloring book sat next to him, and a tin of crayons.
Then Adrijana stood up from behind the sofa, which explained why Jason was here. She moved around to the front of the sofa, stepping carefully around the triplets, and climbed up onto it and settled next to Jason. She clutched a bunch of crayons in one hand, which she carefully returned to the tin beside Jason. Then she picked up the drawing pad and balanced it on her knees.
But it was the unexpected sight of Kit McDonald up here, apparently left alone and in charge of six children that, as far as Alannah knew, he’d never met until now, that left her a little breathless.
Kit wore faded jeans and a plain white teeshirt. It was the most casual outfit Alannah had ever seen him wear. Every other time he’d visited the house when she had been here, he had been in his warden uniform.
“You’ve lost one,” Alannah said and felt her jaw drop even further. It was unusual for her to speak directly to Kit. He was her parents’ friend.
Kit looked around, his eyes narrowed. “I have?”
“Mmm. India is missing.”
“India is here,” Jesse said, from behind Alannah.
Alannah turned. Jesse was moving down the passage, which was open on this side and protected by the same posts and banister railing as the stairs. Jesse held India’s hand, as the three year old walked with small steps along the carpet. “Hi, Alannah. You just get here?”
