Second Thoughts by Bobbie O'Keefe Page B

that they hadn’t even engaged in sexual relations for almost that whole last month. She wondered what would’ve happened if a morning like this had occurred before that final split.
    No, don’t go there. Stop it. Now.
    Forcing her gaze from his, she padded out of the room in bare feet.
    Coffee was made; the aroma registered at the back of her mind, and everybody else was up. For a change, Petey and Christopher were watching TV instead of playing with the corner garage. It was a program Connie recommended to parents. Adults who looked and talked like grownups spoke to kids on a kid’s level, and both boys were paying rapt attention. They were being told how to make a fort out of cardboard boxes with snippets of teamwork and courtesy woven in here and there.
    The twins were happily engaged, one on either side of Moose on the sofa as he read to them, so content they must’ve already been fed. They were dressed in day clothes: matching tan shorts, a blue t-shirt on one child, and a pink one on the other. Original way to tell them apart.
    She walked to the kitchen, found a cup and poured coffee, aware again of that hollow, empty ache in her heart she’d thought she’d finally left behind. At times, especially during that first year, it’d felt as if she’d severed off part of herself. Slowly she’d put herself back together, feeling a little bit more whole in small degrees, one day at a time. Well, surprise, surprise. Here was two years of painstakingly deliberate work wiped out in an instant as if it’d never been.
    When she looked up, she realized her feelings must show. Moose gave her a sidelong look, and Max’s eyebrows drew together as he watched her over the top of his newspaper.
    Working on clearing her face, she rested her elbows on the counter, leaned into it and sipped coffee, and kept her gaze on the two babies who were so enthralled with Moose and their storybook. They pointed at pictures, and in their own language were reading along with Moose.
    Before Derek’s arrival—how many days ago was it? Only four?—she’d noted that all three kids were missing their parents, and she’d felt grossly inadequate. With the adventure and distraction of the last few days, especially Moose’s attention to the twins and the instant bonding between Chris and Petey, the kids’ pining for their parents hadn’t been as noticeable.
    Derek appeared then and started breakfast. He wore jeans, a light-red pullover, and his don’t-mess-with-me look. Connie sidled out of the kitchen, getting out of his way. Moose and Max exchanged long looks and shrugs, and then went back to their respective storybook and newspaper, prudently not offering to help with the cooking.
    The toast was dark-brown and rock-hard, the bacon undercooked, and the scrambled eggs were dry and crusty and brown on the bottom. Nobody said a word.
    After breakfast, Max assigned Petey to kitchen duty. “You’ve had it too easy for too long. I don’t want you to forget how to do things. Chris can help.”
    Connie went back for her sneakers and carried them to the back yard. She decided to wear the same jeans and top from yesterday, shower later today and change then. She was sitting on the ground next to a pink azalea, tying the second shoelace when she heard the door open. Tensing, she jerked her head up.
    She relaxed. “Oh. Hi, Max.”
    “No way could I sit on the ground like that and tie my shoes. You make me feel old, Aunt Connie.”
    She got to her feet, feeling surprised with her thoughts, not his speech. “I was going to go for a walk, but it hadn’t even occurred to me to talk to you.”
    He laughed. “Are you telling me we’ve moved beyond kidnapper and kidnappee?”
    She smiled. “Never heard you laugh before. Yeah, looks like we’ve made some progress in that direction.” She glanced around, studying the terrain, then looked back. “Join me?”
    “Thought you’d never ask.” He indicated a path behind the house. “That stream where