Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“How does pasta and pesto sound?” Clelia asked.
Thomas and Laudren jumped up and down, clapping their hands, but Niels only looked on from the corner. Sky observed him with growing concern. It was obvious he didn’t have much social skills. She was afraid Doumar had caused irreparable damage, keeping Niels isolated and constantly moving so he’d never made friends.
Sky didn’t know anything about cooking, never having used a real kitchen in her life. She was used to heating up food from tins or eating the take-outs Doumar had supplied, but Clelia showed her how to cook the pasta, which was easy enough, while the petite firestarter prepared a homemade pesto sauce.
When the plates were set on the table, Thomas walked over to Niels and took his hand. “Clelia makes the best pasta. You’ll see.”
Sky watched with a lump in her throat as Thomas made Niels climb onto one of the chairs next to him. Laudren dug in with gusto.
When Niels made no sign of eating, Thomas took the Parmesan cheese shaker and said, “You have to put plenty of this on top.” He shook the cheese over his food with vigor. “Do you want me to put some for you?”
Niels nodded.
Thomas emptied a good portion of the cheese on Niels’s plate, which invited a giggle from Niels. After the first, hesitant forkful, it was clear Niels was a fan. He started eating like he’d never seen food before.
“I think he likes your pesto,” Sky said, suppressing the emotions that made it difficult to speak.
“It’s the pasta,” Clelia said with a wink. “Always a winner.”
Clelia served apple slices and natural yoghurt with honey for dessert. The kids were just about done when a beautiful woman with burgundy curls entered the kitchen. A white wool dress set off the striking color of her hair.
“Hello, Sky.” She held out her hand. “I’m Kat, Lann’s wife.”
Sky took the proffered hand. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“Our home is your home. I’m sure Bono thought of everything, but if you need anything, just shout.” She made her way to the boys and kissed Thomas’s head. “Thanks for taking care of the lunch, girls.” She wiped her brow. “I’m done doing research for the day.”
“Any progress?” Clelia asked.
“Nothing useful, so far.” Kat turned to Sky. “I’m trying to get information on the Medusa Movement.”
“May I please leave the table, Mom?” Thomas asked.
“Has everyone finished?”
“Yes.”
“Then you may, but put your plates in the dishwasher and help Laudren with his.”
Niels seemed to be happy to have been included in the task. Together, they cleared the table, at least to the best of their ability.
When they were done, Thomas asked, “May I show Niels my electric train?”
“You’ll have to ask his mom. Maybe she’d like for him to rest.”
“That’s fine,” Sky said. “If he wants to.”
Niels’s eyes lit up.
“Do you want to come, too?” Thomas asked Laudren.
“Yay! Can I?”
“May I,” Clelia corrected. “And yes, you may.”
“I’ll watch them for a bit,” Katherine said. “I can do with a break from the books. Come on, boys.”
They squealed as they ran after her down the corridor.
“I’m working on Laudren’s English,” Clelia said, clearing the water glasses. “You and Niels speak it so well, without a hint of an accent.”
“Doumar insisted we speak it.” The name alone made her throat tighten. “It was for Godfrey, you see.”
Clelia stilled in the middle of wiping down the table. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry or to remind you of that.”
“It’s okay.” Sky carried the dirty pots to the sink. “I’m not going to pretend it never happened.”
“If you ever want to talk, I’ll listen.”
“You’re too kind.” Sky rinsed the pots. “It’s quite a melting pot of languages you’ve got here. Thank goodness you all speak English.”
Clelia laughed. “You have no idea. Thomas speaks Russian to his dad, and we speak French to Laudren at home. It’s only when we’re all together that we speak English so everyone can understand. My accent is terrible, but Joss’s is worse.”
“I think your accent is adorable.”
“Wait until you hear us all together. Tim speaks with an Australian drawl, and well, you know what Sean sounds like when he rolls his Scottish R’s. Ivan’s accent is so typically British, —Don’t you think?—and then there’s Maya, Sara, and Wayne’s South African accent. Asia speaks Danish, of course, and Cain and Alice are as New York-ish as they get. Very colorful indeed.”
“Do you often get together?”
“As frequently as we can. It’s not always easy with us living in France, Sean and Asia in Colombia, Lann and Kat here in Chile, and the rest in New York. Have you and Bono decided where you’d like to settle yet?”
The question took her off guard. “Actually, I haven’t thought about it at all. It’s still so new. We don’t really know each other well, and I’m not sure he’s thinking in such permanent terms.”