How could I tell her it was breaking my heart that they were all growing up? Runa had just turned six and acted like a nine year old. I didn’t know what a nine year old actually acted like—but it was far too grown up.
Five sounded right.
I reached our bedroom door and turned the handle. The curtains were drawn. She lay on the bed with Alexei, his feet in the air, playing with them. He was supposed to be going down for his afternoon nap.
I stepped inside. She couldn’t be angry if the baby was here.
She glanced up at me—none of this morning’s fury in her eyes. I shrugged out of my jacket and toed off my shoes to join them.
“I was so angry with you,” she said.
It was on the tip of my tongue to remind her of the bench name but she kept talking.
“But then I look at him. Isn’t Alexei adorable?”
She lowered her head and began to kiss his cheeks. He giggled and grabbed her hair.
“Mama,” he said, holding onto her head.
“They’re all adorable,” I said, agreeing with her.
She pried her head away to look at me.
“I want another baby.”
I was confused, but I let her carry on to see where this was going.
“He’s already walking,” she said with a sniffle.
Not quite walking—more like dragging himself around like the town drunk.
“Then he’ll move into Nikolai’s room,” she said as the first tear trickled over.“And then I’m stuck with you.”
More tears.
I frowned, not liking where this was going.
What was wrong with being in the bedroom with me?
“I don’t know if I can stop after this one.”
Stop what?
Which one?
I scratched my head.
She drew Alexei closer and covered him with the light cotton blanket the way he liked it. When I heard him begin to feed I leaned over to wipe her tears away.
“I’m addicted to being pregnant and I think I need therapy,” she whispered.
“I will get you the best therapist in the city, my love.”
Or a hypnotist that keeps her exactly the way she is.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“I’m at your service.”
