CHAPTER 6: HOME WAS NEVER QUIET
624 Words
The penthouse overlooked nearly half the city.
At night, its floor-to-ceiling windows framed an endless sea of lights stretching toward the horizon, where skyscrapers dissolved into the darkening sky. It was the kind of view featured in architecture magazines and luxury travel brochures.
Ethan had never once looked out the window.
The moment Isabella unlocked the front door, he kicked off one sneaker.
Then the other.
One landed neatly on the shoe rack.
The second somehow ended up beneath a console table.
"I'm home!" he shouted to absolutely no one.
Isabella closed the door behind them, shaking her head with an amused smile.
"You know..."
"What?"
"The shoes are supposed to stay together."
"They're tired."
"The shoes?"
"Mhm."
"They had a busy day."
"I see."
She bent to retrieve the runaway sneaker.
"I'll let them rest together, then."
He nodded solemnly.
"They like each other."
The apartment, despite its size and elegant décor, didn't feel like a showroom.
There were signs that a child lived there.
A tiny pair of rain boots sat beside the entrance.
Crayons occupied one corner of the dining table.
A stuffed green dinosaur peeked out from beneath the sofa.
Isabella wouldn't have had it any other way.
She set her handbag on the kitchen island.
"So..."
"What should we have for dinner?"
Ethan didn't even pretend to think.
"Spaghetti!"
"We had spaghetti yesterday."
"...Round spaghetti?"
She laughed.
"Is that different?"
"It's... rounder."
"I'm fairly certain spaghetti is already round."
He considered that.
"Oh."
"Then pancakes."
"For dinner?"
"Pancakes are breakfast."
"They don't know that."
She covered her mouth to hide another laugh.
"Who doesn't know?"
"The pancakes."
"They're just happy people eat them."
"I've never thought about it that way."
"I think we should respect their feelings."
She walked to the refrigerator.
"How about chicken and mashed potatoes?"
He sighed dramatically.
"...That sounds like vegetables."
"It isn't."
"Oh."
"Then okay."
While Isabella prepared dinner, Ethan climbed onto one of the stools at the island with a coloring book.
For several minutes, only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the scratch of crayons filled the kitchen.
"Mummy?"
"Hm?"
"Can robots have birthdays?"
She sliced a carrot.
"I suppose they could."
"But they don't get bigger."
"Neither does your teddy bear."
He looked at Mr. Buttons, who was seated proudly beside him.
"...That's true."
"Maybe birthdays are just a way of celebrating."
He nodded, apparently satisfied.
A few minutes later—
"Mummy?"
"Yes?"
"If I grow taller than you..."
"You probably will."
"...Can I still have hugs?"
She stopped cutting vegetables.
Turned.
And smiled.
"You'll always have hugs."
"Even when I'm a hundred?"
"Especially then."
He grinned so widely that the missing front tooth made him look even younger.
"Good."
Dinner was nearly ready when the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it!" Ethan announced, already halfway across the room.
"Walking feet," Isabella called.
His sprint immediately became an exaggerated tiptoe.
She laughed under her breath.
By the time she reached the hallway, Ethan had already opened the door.
"Sophie!"
He threw himself into her arms.
"Whoa!" Sophie laughed, catching him. "Someone's happy to see me."
"You came!"
"I did."
"I brought dessert."
His eyes widened.
"...Can I keep you?"
Sophie gasped dramatically.
"I'm honored."
Isabella folded her arms.
"I see I've been replaced."
"Only a little bit," Ethan admitted.
Sophie stepped inside, holding up a bakery box.
"I come bearing chocolate éclairs."
"You spoil him."
"I spoil both of you."
As the three of them moved toward the dining room, laughter filled the apartment.
Outside, the city continued rushing through another busy evening.
Inside, for the first time all day, Isabella forgot about meetings, investors, and quarterly reports.
For one ordinary evening...
Home was exactly where she wanted to be. :::
- Writer
