“Please, no wedding.” Tabitha jokes, making a fake gagging sound. “Then Seraphina would be my mom!”
“Stepmom,” I correct.
“A lot is going on right now, Eloise,” Seraphina deflects. She wraps an arm around the little girl. “But I’m sure there will be more parties.”
Celebrating is the last thing on most adults’ minds right now. We’re preoccupied. Predicting where the Morettis will strike next.
Cleo adds quietly, “You know what Emilia says. Weddings bring hope.”
“Thanks for that, Cleo,” Tabby jokes. “Do you really want me to be a neglected stepchild?’
Eloise pops her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hands. She sighs, her shoulders heavy. “I just wanna be a flower girl.”
Laughter lightens the mood.
I wrap a protective arm around Seraphina. She leans against me with a happy sigh. “I’m still grateful to you, Tabitha, for how you reacted when you found out.”
“You mean when I found out. Or when Ifoundyou two?” Tabby asked with a raised brow.
“I prefer the story never be retold.” But the laughter that comes feels good. I grunt. “Kid at the table.”
“No more marriage talk.” Seraphina claps her hands twice. A teacher thing she picked up from Cleo. “Now, let’s all eat before Reign’s hard work gets cold.”
We all eat, and then I instigate a twenty-minute clean-up. I tackle the floors, giving the girls the laundry and beds. Hunter and Dame take off for more work. With the extra pressures on us all, Liam has enforced a mandatory night off every week. Tonight, I’m off. Hence, my night to cook.
There’s not as much time for sexcapades as there were before the Village was destroyed.
That’s pretty much how we Bachmans divide time, now: before the Morettis blew up our headquarters, destroying our New York home and family history.
And after.
I do my best to give Seraphina stress relief on these nights. Finding her in the laundry room, switching a never-ending load of towels from the washer to the dryer, I surprise her by grabbing her around the waist and lifting her. I perch her on the dryer, leaning in for a kiss.
“Hey! I’ve got work to do.”
“You can slip away for a bit. Colonel’s orders.”
Without waiting for an answer, I pick her up. Laughing, she wraps her legs around my waist, her arms around my neck. I carry her out the side door of the laundry room, into the quiet night.
We pass the butterfly garden we planted in Sissy’s honor. She blows it a kiss as we walk by the fragrant lavender. We’ve added verbena and zinnias, and, in the spring, she and Eloise are planning a caterpillar ‘nursery,’ with fennel, parsley, and dill for the adult butterfly to lay their eggs.
Her energy hums against me as I hold her, knowing what’s in store for her in the dark shed behind the house.
In some ways, she’s different. In many ways she’s still that defiant girl standing in the backroom of the club, begging me to do something to her. Anything to turn off her mind.
She comes to me for release, now.
And I’m more than happy to give it to her.
30
Seraphina
I don’t know what he’ll think, how he’ll feel, or most importantly, what he’ll say.
However, what needs to be done must be done.
Tonight.
