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“He knows where I am.” I nod, not questioning his statement while emptying the dustpan into the bin bag Lucas is holding out.
The moment I told Lucas he could stay here for a few days, I wanted to take it back. But so far, it’s been okay. These surface-level things I can handle, and if we stick to that, I’ll be fine.
Brushing back a tendril of hair that’s escaped my ponytail, I survey the patio. Now that it’s swept, it looks a lot better. “The mopping will have to wait.” I had bought enough bottled water to last us for days and had filled up a few containers. Those were for washing and flushing toilets. Not mopping. Earlier, I flicked the light switch, knowing the power was out, but still a little bit hopeful. “I hope it won’t take too long before everything comes back on.”
It’s hours later, and we’re on stools at the kitchen counter enjoying a five-star gourmet meal of pb&j sandwiches and crisps for dinner after doing as much cleaning and fixing as we can.
“When can we go see the butterflies?” Lizzy asks, breaking the silence while nibbling on a crisp like she’s a beaver and messing crumbs all over.
My eyes jump to Lucas, and we don’t need to say anything. We’re united by the horror that’s reflected in both our eyes. Was it possible that the butterflies survived this storm? I should have known this was coming. Our life has been so unsettled that we missed our last monthly outing.
“Uhm…” I don’t know what to say. The last thing I need right now is to see that bottom lip wobble.
“We should wait a while,” Lucas says, reaching out and stealing one of her crisps.
“Why?” She’s glaring at him, her eyes following the path the crisp makes to his mouth.
He’s thoughtful while he chews. “Don’t you think the butterflies will be tired after the storm? They need some time to rest before they fly around again. You don’t want to go there and not see them, do you?”
“I guess,” she says, shrugging and turning her attention back to her food. She nibbles on her sandwich, intent on getting all the soft parts without eating the crust. She doesn’t like the crust, and I usually cut it off, but it slipped my mind today.
“Thank you,” I mouth, relieved that a crisis has been averted.
“Have you picked out a game yet?” I ask, getting up and taking my plate to the sink. Lucas follows, brushing against my side, his body warm and his scent filling my nose. It’s a scent that’s uniquely him, and I’m sad when I think of all the times I’d press his shirt against my nose to get a whiff of him when doing laundry. I’ll never be doing his laundry again, so it’s just another thing I’ve lost. I don’t want to be reminded of everything I’ve lost, so I step to the side, turn and lean against the counter, bracing my hands on either side of me.
“Cheeky Monkeys,” she yells, clapping her hands.
I should have known. We’ll be counting bananas all night.
“Go set it up when you’re done.” She crams the rest of her crisps into her mouth and is off the chair and out of the room before she’s stopped chewing.
Lucas chuckles and leans against the counter next to me. “Will she ever get tired of that game?”
“I don’t think so. At least it helped teach her to count to ten.” Lizzy was four when Lucas came home with it one day. He’d been trying to secure one of the top five Board Game Manufacturers as a client, so as part of his research on them, he’d bought their top-selling games. Lizzy had latched on to that one and it’s been a firm favorite of hers. And because Lizzy had loved it so much, Lucas had loved it, and he had won the business.
Lizzy sticks her head around the door, game firmly clutched under her arm. “Mom, Dad. Can we sleep downstairs?”
“I don’t see why not,” Lucas answers when I hesitate too long. He looks way too pleased, so I shoot him a dirty look. Sleeping downstairs means all three of us sleeping in the same room, and I don’t want that.
“I don’t know, Lizzy. Don’t you miss your bed?”
“It’s going to be too dark,” she pouts.
That’s right. No power, no night light. “You can sleep with me.”
“We’ll be too squished.”
Oh, God. She’s expecting Lucas and I to sleep in the same bed. And she sleeps like a starfish, arms and legs everywhere. Maybe making a bed in the lounge won’t be so bad. Lucas can sleep on the floor with her, and I’ll take the couch.
“Okay,” I huff. I can survive one night.
***
I plump my pillow, shifting while trying to get more comfortable. The couch is comfortable, but after two days, I miss my bed.
“I never apologized.” His voice is low, but it sounds loud in the quiet.
I knew he wasn’t asleep yet. In the absolute stillness, I could hear the moment Lizzy’s breaths became deep and regular, and I could hear by his breathing that he wasn’t. When living with a person for so long, you get to know all the sounds they make.
