“Hi Daddy!” Olive runs inside, takes her shoes off at the mat by the utility closet and jumps into her father’s waiting arms.
“Hey, kiddo,” he smiles, picking her up and peppering kisses all over her face as she squeals and giggles.
“Big day, huh?” Mrs. Harriet asks, smiling softly at the touching scene in the front hall.
I scoff a laugh. “One could say that, yes.”
She leans in and speaks quietly for my ears only. “He’s a really good man. Great father. I know this, you two, it’s not exactly conventional, but this could be a wonderful gift. For all involved. Just be patient with each other.”
“It’s wild. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours, and I already feel like I’ve been here a week.” I laugh softly, dumbfounded by how true that statement is.
“Daddy, I missed you, and I’m hungry, and it smells yummy,” Olive declares, causing all of us to laugh.
“Mrs. Harriet, I made plenty of food. Would you like to join us?” I ask, then think better of it. “I mean,” I look over at Ellis. “If that’s alright?” Shit. I can’t just make assumptions and decide to invite people over. I have to think like a couple now. So weird.
“Of course,” he says, putting me at ease. “Always welcome. You know that, Mrs. Harriet.”
“It does smell divine, but I must get back and finish a commission I’m in the middle of. Rain check. See you soon, Miss Olive. Behave.”
“Always, Mrs. Harriet. Duh,” Olive states, one hand on her hip as her father balances her in his arms.
“Sassy thing. You better pray them teen years take their sweet time coming,” Mrs. Harriet grins, raising her brow.
We say our goodbyes, and soon, the chaos of an energetic five-year-old takes over, leaving no room for awkward silences anymore.
I made short ribs with vegetables in the pressure cooker, and not to toot my own horn, but the meat came out so tender and flavorful, it falls off the bone. With it, I made cheesy scalloped potatoes in the oven and garlic-roasted broccolini. Dinner is definitely a hit.
Olive does most of the talking, regaling us with Mrs. Harriet’s art pieces and the idea she gave Mrs. Harriet for her next piece. She addresses both of us, but I catch Olive watching me out of the corner of her eye a few times. She really is scary smart for a five-year-old.
As I’m cleaning up, Ellis takes Olive upstairs for her bath and bed. The kitchen isn’t large but is still a good size. I’ve become fairly familiar with where everything is now. After tea and pie earlier, Ellis was MIA while I unpacked in my new room downstairs.
I tried Raven again. Though I chickened out on using Ellis’s threat.
Seriously. Where are you, Rav?
I haven’t told her that I took her place. That’s a conversation we need to have in person.
“Iris?”
Surprised, I turn, dropping the washcloth I’m drying dishes with.
“Shit. Sorry.” Ellis rushes over to pick it up.
“No. You’re good. Sorry,” I laugh softly. “I was deep in my head, I guess.”
He looks around the kitchen. “I could’ve helped. You didn’t have to do all this yourself.”
“Ellis. I get this is going to take some getting used to. It’s only day one—which is kind of weird cause already it feels longer.”
“It does,” he almost grins.
“Yeah,” I smile. “We got married today.”
He huffs out a deep breath. “Shit.” Ellis pushes his hair off his forehead. “I’m still wrapping my head around that. My…wife.”
Okay. Ignore that clench of heat that just rushed below my belly button.
“I live here now too. You’ve had your routine. Hell, I’ve had mine back home. Now, we share the tasks. We’re partners, first and foremost, right? We’re in this crazy arrangement together.”
