Chapter Six: ADJUSTING TO HOME
1122 Words
Eli
The first thing I noticed the next morning was the silence.
Not the kind of silence that existed on military bases.
That silence was tense. Alert. Waiting.
This silence was different.
It was peaceful.
Warm.
Home.
I stared at the ceiling for several seconds before checking the time.
Six in the morning.
My body was still operating on a completely different schedule.
Two months away would do that.
Sleep had been scarce as usual, but at least I was in my own bed.
That counted for something.
I got dressed and headed downstairs.
The estate remained quiet.
Most people were still asleep.
Most people being Kira.
And, surprisingly, Miss Kingsley.
Usually she was already awake by now.
The thought barely crossed my mind before I heard movement in the kitchen.
A cabinet opened.
Then another.
Then something hit the floor.
I sighed.
Miss Kingsley was awake after all.
I walked inside.
She stood in front of the counter staring at a broken mug.
For several seconds neither of us spoke.
Then she looked up.
“Oh.”
A pause.
“Good morning, Mr. Winslie.”
“Good morning.”
She glanced at the mug.
Then at me.
Then back at the mug.
“I can explain.”
“You dropped it.”
She blinked.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Very good explanation.”
Miss Kingsley immediately covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
For some reason I found myself fighting one as well.
Barely.
She crouched down and began collecting the pieces.
“I’ll replace it.”
“It’s a mug.”
“It was a very nice mug.”
“It was.”
“I kill it.”
I looked at her.
“You killed it?”
“Accidentally.”
I rubbed a hand over my jaw.
“I’ll inform the authorities.”
Her shoulders shook.
For a moment she looked surprised by her own laughter.
As though she wasn’t expecting it from me either.
Neither was I.
The kitchen fell quiet again.
Miss Kingsley finished cleaning up the broken pieces before moving toward the coffee machine.
There was a slight hesitation in her movements.
Something uncertain.
Something I couldn’t quite identify.
Then she said,
“I will be going back to my dorm today.”
Right.
Of course.
That was the arrangement.
Whenever I returned from deployment, she moved back to campus.
Simple.
Professional.
The way it had always been.
I nodded.
“What time?”
“My last lecture finish at four.”
“Finishes.”
She groaned.
I almost regretted correcting her.
Almost.
“Finishes,” she repeated.
“Good.”
“I hate English.”
The statement was so sincere that I nearly smiled.
“You’re improving.”
She looked genuinely suspicious.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“No.”
That seemed to surprise her.
I wasn’t sure why.
The truth was that she had improved.
Her English still wasn’t perfect.
She mixed tenses.
Occasionally murdered grammar.
Frequently invented entirely new sentence structures.
But it was significantly better than when she’d first arrived.
Back then, Kira had somehow understood her better than most adults.
Children adapted faster.
Miss Kingsley poured herself a cup of coffee.
Then another.
I frowned.
“How much coffee do you drink?”
She looked down at the second cup.
Then at me.
Then back at the cup.
“A healthy amount.”
“That’s not healthy.”
“You sound like doctor.”
“That’s because you drink enough caffeine to power a small country.”
She laughed again.
The sound echoed through the kitchen.
Bright.
Uncomplicated.
The exact opposite of the environment I’d spent the last two months in.
I found myself wondering whether the house had always been this noisy before she arrived.
Probably not.
The estate had felt different these past two years.
Less empty.
I wasn’t entirely sure when that happened.
Or how.
The sound of small footsteps interrupted my thoughts.
A moment later Kira appeared.
Her hair was a disaster.
Again.
“Daddy!”
She launched herself directly at me.
I caught her automatically.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning!”
Then she looked toward Miss Kingsley.
“Nanny.”
“Good morning, baby.”
Kira frowned.
“Why are you dressed?”
Miss Kingsley blinked.
“I usually wear clothes.”
I turned away before either of them noticed the corner of my mouth twitch.
Kira rolled her eyes dramatically.
“No. For leaving.”
The smile slipped from Miss Kingsley’s face.
Only for a second.
But I noticed.
“So soon?”
Kira asked.
Miss Kingsley crouched beside her.
“I have classes, baby.”
“Oh.”
The disappointment in Kira’s voice was immediate.
“I’ll still see you.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Kira seemed to consider this carefully before finally nodding.
Satisfied.
Crisis temporarily avoided.
For now.
I watched the exchange quietly.
The attachment between them had become obvious long ago.
Kira trusted very few people.
She trusted Miss Kingsley completely.
The realization should have been reassuring.
Instead it left me feeling strangely thoughtful.
I wasn’t entirely sure why.
Miss Kingsley stood and grabbed her bag from the counter.
“Well.”
She adjusted the strap on her shoulder.
“I should go before I become late.”
“Before I become late?” I repeated.
She pointed at me.
“Do not start.”
“Kira.”
“Yes, Daddy?”
“What is the rule?”
Kira immediately grinned.
“When Nanny says funny English, we pretend not to notice.”
Miss Kingsley gasped in betrayal.
I looked away.
The kitchen suddenly seemed very interesting.
“Nanny!”
“You too?”
“I learned from the best.”
For a moment all three of us stood there laughing.
A simple moment.
Nothing important.
Nothing remarkable.
Yet somehow it felt…
Normal.
The kind of normal I’d forgotten existed.
Miss Kingsley finally headed toward the door.
“Have a good day, Mr. Winslie.”
“You too, Miss Kingsley.”
“And do not let Kira burn down the estate.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good.”
She smiled.
Then disappeared through the front door.
The house immediately felt quieter.
Not empty.
Just quieter.
I glanced down at Kira.
She was still staring toward the entrance.
“Nanny forgot her lunch.”
I looked at the container sitting on the counter.
Then at the front door.
Then back at the container.
Somehow I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time Miss Kingsley would forget something.
And for reasons I couldn’t explain, that thought didn’t bother me nearly as much as it should have.
- Writer
