“Good job.”
His laughter is one of those belly laughs. The kind that kids have, and you can feel it throughout your body. As if their laughter is contagious, and you’re tempted to laugh with them. Brodrie gives in and laughs with his twin.
I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. There are times I remember what my previous therapist warned Ellory about after I shared that they were having kids. He expressed his concern that because I was sexually abused as a child, I might become an abuser as well, and that I shouldn’t be allowed alone with their babies. At least not until those babies can speak for themselves.
Remembering those words has my hands itching.
“That wasn’t abuse. I loved you!”Ryan’s voice demands.
I rub my hands together, trying to get the itchy feeling to go away. Needless to say, Ellory was furious. Not only was that therapist fired, but I think there’s a legal suit against him.
I wonder if he’s right, though. Not because I have any gross thoughts about my brothers—they might as well be my brothers—but I wonder if that’s just a thing.Isit true?
The tower comes tumbling down, and Sawyer makes a frustrated sound. He tosses one of the blocks, and it hits my thigh. When I turn my head to look at him, his eyes are wide.
“No throwing our toys, okay?” I tell him.
His lip trembles. Brodrie pats his leg and hums, just like I’ve heard both Avory and Ellory do when the babies are upset.
“I’m not hurt. But you only throw things that are meant to be thrown.” I’m not sure they understand. I’m told by many that they don’t, but the way they’re looking at me suggests that maybe they do. There are definitely words they do understand,but full sentences of explanation? I’m at fifty-fifty odds that they do.
“Want to try again?” I roll back to my side and offer him a block.
Sawyer takes it and sets it on the floor. Brodrie sets a rectangle horizontally. I set the bridge piece horizontally, too. This tower reaches three rounds apiece before it topples over. When it falls this time, Sawyer isn’t upset about it.
Avory pokes his head into the boys’ room. “You guys ready for lunch?”
“Yep,” I answer, even though I’m not hungry. I get to my feet and offer both kids my hands. In unison, their hands land in mine, and I pull them to their feet. They giggle as their feet come off the ground and then land softly upright.
Avory’s smiling as the boys run toward him. Run might not be the right word. Toddle. Wobble. Barely not fall. Only moving slightly faster than when they were crawling.
Avory scoops both boys up and waits for me to join them before heading down the hall and downstairs. Ellory is setting the table. He takes Brodrie from Avory, and together, they buckle the kids into their chairs.
I watch as they kiss each other. Share a brief embrace. Then they’re moving around the dining room to finish getting the meal ready.
By that, I mean they unload it from the tray that was delivered. When I first moved in, there was talk about teaching me how to do basic living chores. Not because they wanted me to work around the house, but because those are tasks all people should know how to do.
I’ve spent time with various uncles and brothers, cousins, and even the staff to learn things over the years. Avory and Ellory have staff who tend to the upkeep of our home. They have staff bring all our meals. There’s even a nanny to help with the babies throughout the day. Right now, the nanny is sorting out the twins’ clothes, getting rid of everything that no longer fits.
There are households different from this one. Imry and Haze, for instance. They don’t have a nanny. They take care of Amzi on their own around the clock. Avory said that Imry was grumpy for the first several months that Amzi was home. He didn’t get enough sleep.
Uncle Noaz and Briar have help to keep up with their household chores, but they take care of their kids on their own, too.
Ellory says there’s no one way to take care of kids or even to live. It matters more how you treat other people, including those who you pay to clean your house.
I’ve tried cooking a few times. Apparently, it’s not something that you can just do. It takes practice, and I’m not all that good at it.
“You have plans for the afternoon?” Avory asks me.
I shake my head. “I think I’ll go to the lake later.”
“Make sure you’re putting sunscreen on,” he says.
“I will,” I agree.
“And drink,” Ellory says as he pushes a bowl toward Brodrie. “It’s hot out.”
I nod. “Okay.”
