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But before I say anything, I hear a yelp from the other side of the house. Jack raises his eyebrows and claps his palms together.
“That’s right! Sounds like the boys are up from their nap!” he announces happily. “Chelsea? Would you like to meet our little princes?”
“Heck, yes!” she grins. “Lead the way!”
They head off down the hallway toward the boys’ bedroom and I find myself wanting to hang back just a few steps. I love watching this. I love watching how at ease Jack is, which I now realize I haven’t seen in such a long time. Not to mention, checking out the little differences in Chelsea is fascinating.
Her hair is so long and thick, swaying back and forth as she drifts gracefully down the hallway. It gleams with health. She seems just as strong as ever, with that compact, sporty physique. A dancer’s body, I always thought. She spent endless hours in tap and ballet lessons, though she would only rarely demonstrate her skills. For some reason she seemed to find it kind of embarrassing to show off. Or maybe she sensed that I was a little too eager to sit on the sofa and watch her do arabesque after arabesque. Yeah, come to think of it, that was probably a little too obvious.
But for just a few seconds, I’ll allow myself to watch her hips swaying underneath her skirt as she walks. Her attention is elsewhere, and I think I get away with it.
Because, damn, that’s quite a woman. I knew she would be, but seeing it in person, right here my own home… It’s a little much. I’m going to have to be very careful.
That’s the thing. There have been a reasonable amount of women in my life, but they never really tripped me up like this. They never fascinated me, I guess is the word. Chelsea has always fascinated me. I’ve always wanted to watch her, to drink in her details. Every gesture, every offhanded thing that she would say. She’s a puzzle that I never tired of trying to solve.
The door to the boys’ bedroom swings inward and Chelsea pauses in the hallway, briefly framed by a halo of silvery light. I watch her profile as her expression changes to unabashed delight. She claps her hands swiftly under her chin and then plunges into the room, cooing in a series of feminine, unintelligible murmurs.
Jack shoots me a glance. His eyebrows go up. “Right?” is all he says to me before he goes into the room after her.
But I know exactly what he means. Isn’t this easy? Isn’t this great? Isn’t this just… correct?
It takes me a few seconds to get out of the hall, mostly because I have to convince myself that I can handle seeing what I know I’m going to see. And there it is: my son in Chelsea’s arms as she smiles at him, his chubby hands reaching out to cup her face. Jack carries Ned closer to her to so he can also reach out. The boys are smitten, instantaneously.
They have excellent taste.
“I think I’ll go get dinner started,” I say to practically no one.
No one’s paying attention to me as I edge out of the room, heading back down th
e hallway with little bit of vertigo or something. This is quite a lot. It’s stirring up things I haven’t thought about in a long time. Not bad things, but I can use a little breathing room.
Dinner comes together quickly. Lately the boys have been eating pretty well, even venturing into vegetables that they previously didn’t seem to enjoy. Still, I make sure to incorporate some blander flavors, like sautéed chicken breast and jasmine rice. They haven’t quite mastered forks, but they do pretty well. This should be a satisfying dinner for them.
For the adults, I whip up a garlic and red pepper sauce, plus a rainbow array of peppers and squash. If I remember correctly, Chelsea is not a big fan of tomatoes, which is a pity. I wonder if that still applies.
Ned and Matthew come running into the great room, hobbling dramatically on their bowed, comical legs. Jack and Chelsea follow right after, pretending to chase them while the boys giggle and pretend to be alarmed. It’s a beautiful sight, and I can’t help but laugh as Ned and Matthew circle the sofa, with Chelsea prowling behind.
She crouches down low, holding her skirt up over her knees as she chases them, coming tantalizingly close but never really overtaking them. Ned howls with joy and excitement. Matthew, sensing that his cousin is gathering just a percentage point more of the available attention, throws himself to the floor strategically in front of her, allowing her to “capture” him.
“Aha! I got you!” she gasps, shaking his little feet in her hand. I note that she doesn’t go right for tickling or too much contact. Most people aren’t this cautious. I appreciate that she’s testing his limits, making sure that he is safe and happy and all moments. You never know when a child will suddenly become shy, and I can see that she is aware of that.
“Dinner is almost ready!” I announce in a loud voice.
The boys smile up at me obediently. Ned raises a hand to wave his fingers at me and I wave back. Though they are still so small, I can tell that they are going to be good boys. Respectful, obedient, with just enough naughtiness that it’s going to be a fun challenge to raise them.
“All right, you two,” Jack says in his official voice. “Let’s go wash our hands, okay? Follow me.”
The boys trot behind Jack as he leads them toward the powder room to wash their hands. I can tell they are a little bit tired from the roughhousing, but they still know when it is time to stop playing and get serious.
“They are so cute!” Chelsea breathes, her eyes bright with happiness.
I try to make sure that I’m not beaming too hard. It would be hard to explain how happy all this simple family time made me.
“You’re really good with them,” I observe. “They seem to really like you.”
“I really like them too,” she shrugs. “It makes it easy.”
“They don’t always warm up to everybody right away. I’m glad to see you guys connected right off the bat.”
