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His replies came in monosyllabic grunts, but he listened to her ramble on.
Eventually, he would disappear to help Avi with his potion, or assist Yuki in cleaning around the house.
Naia was never alone for more than a few minutes. Ronin would find her holed up in what was once his mother’s craft room—now Yuki’s office—with her feet tucked up in a chair, books piled on the desk, nose deep in the pages, nervously tapping her fingers on her thighs.
He came up behind her, wrapped his arms around her neck. “I found a recipe I think you’d be interested in,” he mused. “Chocolate and hazelnut.”
They baked cakes, some days a batch of cookies, and on rare occasions, they’d try a delicate pastry. Often resulting in a butchered creation, thanks to the proofing step. After several failed attempts, Naia learned how much she truly detested yeast and its temperament.
After school, Akane would teach Naia how to make an onigiri. Naia enjoyed the activity of doing something with her hands. Spooning a filling into the rice and forming it into a triangle shape with her fingers. Between that and Akane talking about her day at school, it prevented Naia from thinking too hard.
During her fifth month, the crib was delivered on the front porch by a mail carrier.
Naia hauled the giant rectangle box into their child’s nursery.
She stood aside, arms crossed, hip jutted out, doing her best not to grit her teeth, watching Ronin unbox all the pieces. “I said no, Ronin.”
“Babe, this is fucking ridiculous.” He lifted from his crouched position, hair in his eyes as he spun to face her. “There’s like a hundred pieces. The direction manual is as thick as my mom’s fucking grimoire.”
“We have nothing but time.” She brushed past him and collected as many crib bars as she could hold in her arms. The bag of screws caught on one piece and scattered across the room. “We’re doing it my way.”
“It’s a waste of time when there’s an easier solution,” he countered.
Some of the bars slipped out of her grasp and hit the carpet. Another smashed right down on her toe, and she pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth to keep from howling out in pain.
“It will be easy!” she snapped, reaching down to pick them up. “If you would just stop complaining and help!”
“You’ve already lost half the screws needed to keep it together.” He jutted his hand out towards the jumbled parts scattered across the bedroom floor.
Naia held the crib pieces tighter to her chest. “I will figure it out. Leave me alone.”
Ronin’s hand came up in the air.
Naia narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“This is ridiculous, Naia. Just let me put it together my way.”
“Using magic. That’s cheating.”
His raised hand lowered to grip his hip. “The fuck it is. It’s common sense.”
“Oh, so now you’re telling me I don’t have common sense?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” He huffed, exasperated.
“Sounds like it is.”
“Fucking hell, did I say you don’t have common sense?”
“No, you implied it when?—”
She gasped.
The movement was like a bird’s wing caught in her stomach.
Slowly, the pieces of the crib fell from her arms, and she brought her hands to the small bump of her belly.
In an instant, Ronin crossed the room to her side. “What? Are you okay?”
