“It’s all right, Sissy. Come when you can though.”
“I will,” She sounded uncertain, “I miss you all. How is Ollie?”
“He’s awesome!” I glanced at my husband, who was holding the baby in his hands smiling down at him.
“How is Xander? I worry about him. He seemed so down the last few times we spoke.”
I sighed, “He’s doing his best to keep his chin up.”
“Tell him hello for me. Tell him I think of him often.” Her voice was hushed, as if she didn't want somebody to hear what she was saying. I was quite certain it was her new boyfriend.
“Call him and tell him yourself. You know his number.”
She was silent for a few seconds, then sighed, “Yes, I’ll do that.”
I didn’t believe her. We only spoke for another minute or two before she had to go.
“Everything all right?” Oliver asked as I clicked the phone shut.
“She sounds stressed,” I told him, “Speaking of stressed, I hope Alex is OK.”
Oliver grinned and nodded.
Alexander had bravely taken all three of the children back to the cabin by himself. Nigel, satisfied with his bear, was content to go, but Carolena was giving her uncle quite a hard time about leaving. She’d chucked a wobbly halfway out the door and he’d dragged her out dangling from his sleeve and kicking at him. Carolena was a little more than something to contend with when she’d missed a nap.
“Don’t you dare get her ice cream when she’s behaving like that!” Oliver warned Alex as they left, but we both knew that was exactly what he was planning on doing. It was his tradition that anytime he had the children all to himself they gorged on French vanilla ice cream with gummy bears and crushed Oreo biscuits in it. Something as infinitesimal as wobbly wasn’t going to deter Uncle Alex from indulging in that creamy goodness.
Finally it was just me and Oliver and our new baby boy sitting side by side on the bed the same way we had when Carolena was born.
Gryffin was sleeping like an angel.
“He really looks different than his sister,” I observed, “He’s not squishy at all. He’s all round. Newborns are supposed to be ugly, but he’s so cute!”
“He’s gorgeous,” Oliver whispered into my hair, “Thank you so much. You are so much more than Just Silvia, have I told you? You’re absolutely amazing.”
I laughed, “Oh, am I?”
“You’re a fantastic muffin maker. All your muffins are magic.”
“You help a lot with that.”
“Maybe, but the way you love them, that’s the real magic.”
I was quiet for a long moment, “We waited a long time, didn’t we?”
“We did.”
“Now we have a girl and a boy. Do you think they’ll be others?”
“God willing.”
I sat there and stared down at my son. The same sense of being beset with all of the things I didn’t understand washed over me as it had only when I had lost my first child and then again when my daughter was born. There are only certain times in your life that it happens. Times in your life when you realise that you are truly alive and you let yourself feel the blood rush through your veins or pay attention to the way your heart feels in your chest. I closed my eyes and remembered everything that was real. New life, children, laughter echoing around the trees, my family, the winds, the whispers, love, elves, magic… Oliver and me…
It had begun with Oliver and me and it always seemed to end there as well. “Who would have thought,” I asked my husband, “When we walked out of that constable’s house at seventeen and married that we’d still be together and as happy as we’ve always been?”
“Carolina Pennyweather,” Oliver whispered, “She’d have been the only one who’d have been certain of it.”
“She told us that life could get tough and ugly, remember?” I asked. Oliver nodded, “But in not so many words she told us that it was beautiful, too, didn’t she?”
“She did.”
“I miss her. I wish I could thank her,” I said sincerely, “I wish I could go and see her or ring her up and tell her about our children. She’d be so happy for us.”
“She is happy for us, Love. She didn’t have healthy children of her own. She only had the ones who let her love them in her own way while she had them at her school.” He sighed, “She was good to Alex and me. Strict, mind you, but good. Personally, I think the woman was a saint and when she died she got wings and she’s fluttering around Bennington with a detention pad, taking notes for Saint Peter.”
“Well, we have healthy children,” I caressed my son’s head, “And to honour our headmistress, we shall cherish them.”
“Love this one to bits, just like his sister.”
“And promise to teach him all about the wood…”
“And the trees and the winds and whispers.”
“And how to go looking for elves…”
“And how to listen to them in the still of the night…”
“And trust that there is always love. So much love all around him.”
“All around him, yes, and we’ll teach him faith to keep him strong.”
“Oh, Gryffin!” I was so filled with love I began to weep, “You have no idea how much fun you’re in for! Your father’s a loony! He’ll keep you laughing for days!”
“And your mum’s an excellent shot with a hunk of dirt! She’ll keep you on your toes, she will! It’ll be so much fun, Lad!”
“It will be. All of us in our little wood.”
“Just like heaven,” Oliver looked into my eyes. “Marry me again, Silvia? Please?”
“As many times as you ask, Oliver.”
“Then I shall keep asking.”
We slept that first night with our son as we had with his sister. The three of us piled on to a bed that was far too narrow, our arms around each other and our baby boy cradled safely between us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The twins and I spent the next year as we always had, running about the wood playfully bickering with each other and laughing as though the whole world was funny and anyone who didn’t live with us there were fools. Alexander took his trust fund and opened Double Vision, his own architectural design and building company. His partner was a woman called Becky, of whom he was quite fond. He often took her to dinner and had her to the house. I was certain that there would be an affair, but found out later that Becky was a full-fledged lesbian and was the first female friend he’d ever had without designs. It was refreshing to Alex. Natalie, Alex said, was the only woman he was interested in carrying around in his heart. Anybody else exceeded weight limitations.
Xan was a wonderful father and his children adored him. When Nigel was small and Alex would work late, Nigel would go to bed for me early, but he’d make it a point to wake up in the middle of the night just so his dad would come and gather him up. Alex would plop into the glider in the corner with his son, toss a blanket over the two of them, and rock him until both of them were asleep. Sometimes I’d go out into the front room in the morning and find Alex so zonked he’d be slipped halfway off the chair with Nigel tucked under one arm and Natalie clutched in the other like a gilbert. I never bothered them. When three people are that tired, there is no sense in not letting them sleep.
As it had always been, Oliver and I were happy. Our time was spent being surrounded by four children who filled every moment with action. We stole private moments when we could. We’d get off in the office at his practice and go on “dates” when his parents would watch the children. Those consisted of an occasional dinner out and sometimes a film, which we never actually saw since we got off in the theatre as well. We had fun, Ollie and me. No matter what was happening, in the end we always managed to enjoy each other.
We took a weekend trip to France on our thirteenth wedding anniversary. It was loads of fun darting about Paris, but as the first night settled in it seemed very strange not to be home. I knew Oliver, just like me, was missing the children.