The Pursuit by Lori Wick Page B

surprise, and Niki laughed. At the same time she heard the door open.
    “It’s Denley!” the boys cried, scrambling from their mother’s arms to greet him.
    “Hello, Master Christopher; hello, Master Richard.”
    “Denley,” they told him, very serious, “Mama’s home, and she’s been to Africa!”
    “Africa?” He appeared to be amazed. “How splendid. Did she see elephants?”
    The boys looked to her, and Niki laughed. They ran back, headed for her lap, but she had come to her feet, knowing Denley needed her.
    “Yes, Denley,” she prompted kindly.
    “If I may, Mrs Bettencourt, I think I might retire for the evening.”
    “Of course, Denley. Thank you.”
    He nodded, weary but at peace, and slipped back out the door. The boys already had their mother’s hands, taking her to see their blocks and the small town they were building. Niki went back to the floor and listened to their chatter, a mixture of French and English.
    “Were you good boys while I was away?” she asked them, watching as they grew quiet. Niki looked between them, surprised by this reaction.
    “Does someone want to tell me something?”
    “We fought today,” Richard admitted. “I punched and Chris kicked.”
    “What was this about?”
    “We both wanted the special ball.”
    “And who got it?”
    “No one. Uncle Gar took it, and we had to sit in chairs.”
    “Did you apologize to each other?”
    Their heads bobbed, their looks contrite.
    “Did you apologize to Uncle Gar?”
    This one stumped them, and looking at their adorable faces, fair hair falling on their brows, Niki had all she could do not to laugh.
    “Shall we go and find him?” their mother suggested, her eyes soft with tenderness toward them.
    The little boys agreed, and since it was growing a bit late, they found Gar and Juliana in their room.
    “May we disturb you?” Niki asked even as the boys climbed on their bed, clearly having been there before.
    “Of course,” Juliana replied as she stopped brushing her hair and Gar set his book aside.
    “The boys have something to tell you.”
    In another mix of French and English, the boys reminded Gar that they had fought and were sorry. Gar held them close, and told them all was well. They kissed him soundly and returned to their mother.
    “Go to your room now, and ready yourselves for bed,” she ordered. “I’ll be right along.”
    Niki watched them head out and then turned back to her friends.
    “Where did the French come from?”
    “That’s my fault,” Juliana admitted. “I thought I would teach them a little, completely forgetting the years they’d been around it, and with a few lessons, it came pouring out of them. Now every sentence is a mixture of both languages. It’s so amusing, I can’t stand to correct them.”
    Niki laughed. “I can’t believe how big they are. Have you ever seen anything so precious?”
    “Never,” Gar agreed.
    “I’m going to sleep in with them tonight. I’ll see you in the morning.”
    “Be ready to talk,” Gar ordered, and Niki said that she would be.
    Once Niki had gone to her own room to change into her nightgown and robe, she slipped down the hall and found the twins making little progress with their bedclothes. They were looking at a picture book and not moving very fast. Niki didn’t lecture them but worked on small buttons and shoes, content just to be near them.
    When the boys were finally ready, Niki climbed into the middle of the bed they shared, and smiled as the two of them moved to either side of her.
    “Are you going away again?”
    “No,” Niki said, begging God to let it be so. “We’re going to be together now.”
    “Here at Kendal?”
    “Yes. Won’t that be fun?”
    Without warning the boys agreed, both speaking at once and in the hysterical mix of a dual language.
    “Can you do something for me?” Niki cut in gently after letting them ramble for a time. “I would like you to speak only French until you go to sleep.”
    Thinking this a