Franz returned home in the late afternoon, the autumn light slanting through the windows. The house had the particular hush it always held at this hour, the twins home from school, the day winding down, a household settling into its evening rhythms. He left his briefcase by the door and followed the sound of voices to the sitting room.
Lily was on the floor near the coffee table, her toy house spread out before her. She was rearranging the furniture with intense concentration. Petal sat nearby, propped against a cushion, watching the renovation.
Arianne was on the couch with Leo beside her. A children’s book was open on her lap, the pages worn at the corners from repeated use. Leo was leaning against her shoulder, his dark eyes fixed on the words as Arianne pointed to each one in turn. His lips moved, shaping the sounds before he spoke them aloud.
"C-cat. Cat."
"Good. Try the next one."
"D-dog. Dog."
"Very good, Leo."
Leo looked up at her with the low, private pride that always flickered in his eyes when he managed something he’d been working hard at. He had improved so much over the past weeks. The boy who had been silent for so long was now speaking one and two-syllable words with growing confidence. He used his tablet for longer sentences, preferred silence when he was tired or overwhelmed, but the words were coming more easily now. Lily had told Franz once that it was because Leo wanted to be able to talk to the baby when he arrived.
Lily noticed him first. "Uncle Franz!" She looked up from her toy house, her hands holding a tiny plastic sofa. "Why aren’t you on leave too? Mommy Aria is on leave. You should be on leave together."
Franz crossed the room and lowered himself onto the couch beside Arianne. The cushion dipped under his weight, and Arianne moved to make room for him without looking up from the book. "If I stop working, everything piles up. Then when Mommy Aria comes back, she’ll have twice as much to do. I’m trying to make things easier for her."
"Oh." Lily considered this. "That makes sense. But you should still rest sometimes. Aunt Estella says rest is important for everyone, not just pregnant people."
"I’ll rest later. I promise."
Leo turned the page of the book and pointed to a new word. His brow furrowed in concentration. "R-r-rabbit. Rabbit." Three syllables. He looked up at Franz, waiting.
Franz reached over and patted his hair. "That was perfect, Leo. You’re getting good at this."
Leo’s face broke into a small, pleased smile. He didn’t type anything. He didn’t need to.
"He’s been working hard," Arianne said. "Every day after school. He won’t let me skip a single page."
"Good. Hard work pays off."
Leo nodded solemnly and slid off the couch to join his sister on the floor. Lily immediately began explaining the layout of her toy house to him—where the kitchen was, where the baby’s room would go, how she’d arranged everything to be "practical and also pretty." Leo listened with his characteristic focused attention, occasionally pointing at things he wanted moved.
Arianne closed the book and set it aside. Her hand moved to her belly in the gesture that had become automatic over the past months. She was bigger now, the baby growing steadily, her body adapting to accommodate him.
"How are you feeling?" Franz asked.
"You ask me that several times a day."
"I know. I can’t help it."
"I’ll tell you if I need something. I’ve told you that."
"I know. I still worry."
She looked at him. Her expression was calm, but there was something softer beneath it. "I’m fine. The baby’s been quiet this afternoon. I think he’s sleeping."
"Good. He was kicking all night."
"He’s practicing. You’re the one who told him to behave."
"And he listened?"
"Apparently."
Franz placed his hand on her belly, feeling the warmth of her through the fabric of her dress. The baby didn’t stir. Sound asleep.
"I finished the business plan," Franz said. "Daryll and I have been working on it for weeks. It’s ready for review."
Arianne’s expression changed, the particular alertness that always appeared when there was work to be done. "You have it with you?"
"I’ll print it tonight. I wanted to ask if you’d have time to look at it. Maybe discuss it with us tomorrow."
"Yes. I have time." She paused. "I’ve been getting bored, actually. Gio won’t let me do any real work. The nursery is finished. There’s nothing left to prepare. I just wait for the twins to come home from school, and then I wait for you. Aunt Estella checks on me every few hours. Your mother comes by almost every day with food. She’s very determined to make sure I’m eating enough."
"She’s always been determined."
"She’s been very kind. I didn’t expect it."
Franz didn’t say anything. He knew what she meant. Amanda had been cold when Arianne first married into the family. The warmth that had developed between them was hard-won and had taken Arianne by surprise.
"I’ve been reading," Arianne continued. "Books. Not reports. I finished three novels last week. I didn’t know I still knew how to read for pleasure."
"You used to read all the time. When we were younger."
"I used to have time. Before everything."
"You have time now."
"I have too much time. I don’t know what to do with it." She adjusted her position on the couch. "I’ll review the business plan. Schedule the meeting with Daryll. At least it will give me something useful to do."
"I’ll ask him to come by tomorrow. We can go through it together."
She nodded.
"What about the guest house? The things from your parents’ estate."
"Gio is handling everything. He won’t even let me step inside to check on the progress." There was a note of dry amusement in her voice. "He’s very protective."
"He’s your brother."
"He’s also my employee. He’s supposed to listen to me."
"Gio has never listened to anyone except you. And even then, only when he agrees with you."
Arianne didn’t argue. "They’ve already moved the important documents to the third level. One of the empty rooms. I’ll sort through them after the baby is born. There’s no rush."
"Take your time. The room isn’t being used for anything else."
"He’s been working too hard," Arianne said, and Franz knew she meant Gio. "I told him to slow down. Take a break. He refused."
"He’s a workaholic. Like someone else I know."
"I’m not a workaholic anymore. I’ve been forced into retirement."
"Temporary retirement."
"Temporary forced retirement."
Franz smiled. Then his expression grew more thoughtful. "He might be using work as a distraction. To keep from thinking about other things."
Arianne didn’t answer. She knew what he meant. They both knew what he meant. Sam’s name hung unspoken between them, the way it always did when Gio came up in conversation.
"He’ll figure it out," Arianne said finally. "Or he won’t. I can’t make him."
"No. You can’t."
Lily appeared at the edge of the couch, her toy house temporarily abandoned. Leo stood beside her, his tablet in his hand.
"Uncle Franz," Lily said. "We have a question."
"I’m listening."
"Will the baby get a doll? Like a special doll. For him." She held up Petal. "You gave me Petal. And Leo has the Lion from our daddy and the whale from Mommy Aria. Those are our special dolls. We all have one. But the baby doesn’t have one yet."
Leo typed on his tablet and held it up: BABY NEEDS A DOLL. FOR HIM. SPECIAL.
Franz looked at the two of them—Lily with her fierce sense of fairness, Leo with his focused insistence that the baby be included in everything. They had been planning for this child for months. They had painted the nursery and assembled the crib and made lists of everything the baby would need. And now they wanted to make sure their little brother had what they had. A companion. Something that was his.
"I’ve been thinking about it," Franz said. "I haven’t decided yet. But the baby will have something. Something just for him. I promise."
"What kind of something?" Lily asked.
"I don’t know yet. I’m still looking for the right one."
"It should be soft. Babies like soft things. And not too big. The baby will be very small."
"Those are good suggestions. I’ll keep them in mind."
Lily nodded, satisfied that her input had been received. She grabbed Leo’s hand and pulled him back toward the toy house. "Come on. We need to finish the baby’s room. It’s not done yet."
The twins settled back onto the floor, their heads bent together. Lily was already explaining her vision for the toy baby room. Leo was typing suggestions.
Franz leaned back against the couch. Arianne was beside him, her hand on her belly, her expression peaceful. The afternoon light was softening into evening. The house held only the murmur of the twins’ voices and the distant sound of Aunt Estella moving in the kitchen.
"I’ll print the business plan after dinner," he said. "You can review it tonight."
"I’ll have notes by morning."
"I expected nothing less."
She turned her head to look at him. "You’re hovering again."
"I’m sitting still. That’s the opposite of hovering."
"You’re hovering while sitting still. It’s a skill."
"I’ve had practice."
She shook her head, but there was no real exasperation in it. She leaned against his shoulder, her body warm and solid beside him. The baby kicked once, a small flutter, barely perceptible, and then settled back into sleep.
Franz stayed where he was. The business plan could wait. The doll could wait. Everything could wait. For now, there was this: his wife beside him, the children on the floor, the afternoon stretching into evening. The life they had built together, and growing.