the boys are back

And they remembered me. Everything slipped right back into place as if they had never left, and their faces weren’t as changed as I had dreaded they might be. It came as a relief that they still love and want me.

“Are you happy to be back?” I asked them, with feigned nonchalance. “Or would you rather’ve stayed at the beach awhile longer?”

“Both,” Eight said in the thoughtful way he has.

The days that they were gone collided and mixed together and so much got done with so little effort, and now that they’re back everything feels normal again and I shrug inwardly as I give up even trying to do everything I’d like done. Some things are just not possible, and as nice as it is to leisurely finish a book before bed, or finish what’s on my plate before having to get up, or finish anything, really, before someone is asking me to do something, or a few things, else, I’d much rather have them here with me, which is where I will probably always feel like they belong.

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About Jennifer

I'm a freelance translator and American expat. I live in Northern Italy with my two young sons.
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