“Boys,” Evelyn cries the moment she stumbles into the house. She’s still wearing her cotton nightgown, now splattered with mud and blood and grass stains, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Mama?” Alvin’s tired little face appears above the back of the couch. He blinks and rubs his eyes. “Mama!” he cri
“Thank you, Amelia,” Evelyn says, a little awkward. “For taking care of them tonight.” Amelia rolls her eyes and heads for the stairs. “You’re welcome. It was nothing. Glad you’re not dead, or whatever.” Evelyn and Victor watch Amelia make her graceful way up the stairs. When the bedroom door slam
When I wake up, it’s somehow the middle of the night. I sit up straight, almost hitting my head on the top bunk of Alvin and Ian’s little rocket bed. Alvin curled up next to me, fully asleep, with little Archie at his feet. I blink, trying to figure it out – how can it be the middle of the night wh
I turn to my left and open the refrigerator, stooping down to take a good long look at perhaps a dozen bottles of Amelia’s precious rose wine. I pull out a bottle and study it. I enjoy a glass of wine (or three) myself, but part of me suspects that Amelia’s entire caloric intake during the day comes
Two hours later, I pour Victor his fifth glass of whiskey. “This has gotta be the last one, Evelyn,” he says, his words only slightly slurred. But his face is happy, a little pink from laughter and drink. “Penultimate, at best,” I say, winking at him and making sure it’s an extra-generous pour. “
“I didn’t want water. I only wanted you.” He fastens my eyes with his own as he says it, not blinking, not even once. We stare at each other, our breath matching. As he breathes in, I breathe in, so that we are almost as one, existing together. It’s unbearable, in its clarity, it’s simplicity. I t
My boys save me from this awkward moment, thank god, by bounding into the room. “Mommy!” Ian shouts, flinging himself onto the couch and crawling up onto my lap. “Hi papa!” Alvin says, waving at his dad as he rounds the coffee table and crawls up behind me, wrapping his arm around my neck and givi
I am silent a moment, looking between them. I guess part of me was hoping that they would be six-year-old boys, in this case, and not the Alpha’s genius twins. “I’m sorry, boys,” I say. “You deserve a better explanation than you’ve gotten. I’ll tell you all about it.” I close my eyes, organizing m