“No, my brother and husband decided to get drunk while Anna and I shot at things.”
“Mikhail set up the cans,” Anna said. “Horatio explained the grip. Polina went first.”
“I missed every can.”
“Then it was my turn. Horatio stood behind me to correct my stance, then walked around to stand with Mikhail so I could fire.” Anna paused. “My first shot took the hat off his head.”
The conversation at the table stopped.
Kingston was the first to speak. “Accidentally?”
“She had been quite annoyed with him that morning,” Polina said.
“I had.”
“About what?” I asked.
“I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Horatio dove into the grass, Mikhail spilled the vodka, and I think one of them burned the hat.” Annalifted her glass. “I was informed that my instruction was complete.”
“And mine resumed the following summer,” Polina said. “With a different instructor.”
“Julian was patient with us.” Anna rested her hand on his arm.
He smiled. “I had to be.”
My grandmother sat up straighter. “I am still a respectable shot, especially for my age.”
“It’s true,” Julian commented.
“And Anna?” I asked, trying to imagine the two of them out behind the camps.
“Anna is being modest.” Babushka’s eyes scrunched. “Anna is anexcellentshot.”
Through it all, Bishop sat beside me, touching my arm or my leg, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
Henry stood near the end of the meal and raised his glass. “They say that choices are the hinges of destiny. Looking around this room, it’s clear that the decisions we’ve made—the risks we’ve taken, the paths we’ve chosen, and even the ones we’ve avoided—have brought us exactly where we need to be. Here’s to trusting our gut, taking the leap, and knowing that thechoices we make are the right ones because we make them with our whole hearts.”
After everything was cleanedand put away, I grabbed Horatio’s journal from where I’d left it and tucked it under my jacket. Snow fell, not enough to stick, but to make everything pretty, on our walk to Ohkwari. Neither Bishop nor I spoke, even after we were inside. We moved around each other, getting ready for bed. He banked the fire while I washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then it was his turn. We got under the heavy blanket together, and Bishop pulled me into his arms.
“I keep thinking about Lyra and Henry,” I said, resting my head on his chest.
“Me too.”
“They gave up their whole lives. For Minerva. For our family. They never had children, Bishop. And Henry sat next to her today and told her he’d do it all again.”
Bishop was quiet long enough that I thought he wasn’t going to respond.
“I feel the same way he does,” he finally said. “Wherever you are is where I’m going to be.”
I didn’t say anything right away. I couldn’t.
“Kitten?”
“Thank you, Bishop,” I whispered.
“Any time. And I guess you know I mean it since I just said you’re never getting away from me.”
I laughed. How many times had I today when I doubted it was possible? I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Sweet dreams, my love,” I said when I was certain he was asleep.
