Both Tilda and Mari round the counter and hug me.
Tilda leaves quickly, tears still streaming down her cheeks.
Staying back a few minutes, Mari says, “I’m happy for you, Ion. I know Sam will be thrilled to hear your news. If all I could have was a few years with Sam, I would take them over a dozen lifetimes without him. Tilda will come around.”
When Lori answers the door, her smile is warm and inviting. The scent of tomato sauce and beef fills the house. “You look pensive.”
I kiss her cheek and let the scent of wildflowers and beeswax envelope me. “No. It was a strange day. I spoke to my granddaughters about our relationship.”
“They disapprove?” Her smile fades, and a crease forms between her eyebrows.
I cup her cheek. “No. They like you very much and adore the girls. They expressed concerns about the future. I hope we have many years before our worries will turn in that direction.”
Understanding dawns in her eyes. She draws a deep breath. “You can tell me about it after the girls go to bed.”
Dorothy skips over and tugs my hand. “You are Mommy’s new boyfriend.”
“I am.” I smile at the directness and the statement rather than a question. “How do you feel about that?”
She makes a similar face to her mother’s when in deep concentration. Her little forehead creases, and she narrows her gaze. “It’s good. Mommy needs a friend.”
Olivia arrives in the foyer more slowly. “Mommy must like you very much.”
“What makes you think so?” I can’t deny the small thrill at her observation.
With a shrug, Olivia says, “She never invites boys to dinner. And you don’t eat.”
Dorothy nods in agreement, and they look at their mother.
“Alright, go and set the table while I get Ion a glass of wine and finish cooking dinner.” A warm blush washes up her fair skin.
Once the girls have run to the dining table, I lean in. “I don’t know if I’m happier to be called a boy or your boyfriend.” I kiss her neck. Warmth with a flutter of her pulse beneath the skin creates an instant longing and also feels like something ancient and right. Even though her blood sings to me, I’m not overwhelmed with hunger. It’s enough to make me long for alone time while relishing the present.
She giggles. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“As am I.” I follow her to the kitchen. “May I help you with anything?”
Her grin at my question is captivating. She pours two glasses of Cabernet and points to a baguette sitting on a cutting board. “Will you slice the bread?”
The twins are arguing over where the forks go in relation to the napkins, Lori is stirring a pot of marinara sauce on the stove, and I’m supposed to cut bread to be served with butter. This is everything I have ever wanted and never dreamed I could possibly have. Emotions well inside me, and I swallow them down before they overcome me.
As a young human man, I thought I would marry farmer Smit’s daughter, but we were both very young. I had a plan to make enough money and ask her father in a year or two. She married someone else and broke my heart. All the years of regret are washed away as I watch Lori go to the table and show Dorothy and Olivia how to set it properly.
Reminding myself that this is only the first day, and anything might go wrong, I let the image of a lifetime of this family’s acceptance warm me from the inside out. If I didn’t know better, I might think I was warm-blooded.
Chapter Ten
LORI
After playing several board games, the girls finally wanted their story. Ion patiently told them about the 1889 Paris World’s Fair. He described how they built the Eiffel Tower in just over two years to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution.
All three of us listened intently while he described the crowds, how they dressed, what their interests were, and more.
He’s the most fascinating man I’ve ever met, and I still can’t fathom what he sees in me. As hard as I try to see myself through his eyes, I see a police dispatcher and mother of two who has made some terrible choices in her life, with stretch marks and extra weight in too many places.
Ion watches as I kiss the girls goodnight. When I turn, he offers me his hand, and together we walk into the living room. “What are you thinking? You always get a small crease between your eyes when you concentrate.” He keeps me close and runs his index finger down the spot.
“I was thinking that I don’t know what an amazing man like you sees in a woman who has lived in exactly two places and done very little with her life.” I sit on the couch, part of me waiting for him to come to his senses and walk out of my house without a word.
