Chapter Eighteen: BONDING
1018 Words
Xenia
The best conversations I had with Kira were never the serious ones.
Not the ones about manners.
Or homework.
Or why she couldn’t eat cookies before breakfast.
Those usually ended in negotiations.
The truly important conversations were about things that made absolutely no sense.
Like the one we were currently having.
It was our fourth day on the island.
The sun had already set.
Dinner was over.
Mr. Winslie was somewhere inside the villa taking a work call.
Which left me and Kira sitting on the beach beneath a sky full of stars.
The waves rolled softly against the shore.
A warm breeze drifted through the air.
Peaceful.
Very peaceful.
“Kira.”
“Yes, Nanny?”
“If animals could talk, which one would be the rudest?”
She gasped.
The question was clearly very serious.
For nearly thirty seconds she thought about it.
Then nodded.
“Ducks.”
“Ducks?”
“Ducks.”
“Why?”
She pointed dramatically.
“They know what they did.”
I stared at her.
Then laughed.
Honestly, that was a reasonable answer.
A little concerning.
But reasonable.
Kira looked pleased with herself.
“What about you?”
I pretended to think.
“Goats.”
She frowned.
“Goats are nice.”
“No.”
“They are.”
“They climb things for no reason.”
“So?”
“That is suspicious.”
Kira burst into laughter.
For several moments we sat there arguing about imaginary animal personalities.
A conversation that somehow became even stranger.
“What if clouds are alive?”
Kira asked suddenly.
I blinked.
“What?”
“What if they are alive?”
I looked up at the night sky.
Then back at her.
“Then they have a very good life.”
“Why?”
“They travel everywhere.”
Kira nodded thoughtfully.
“That is true.”
A pause.
Then:
“I would like to be a cloud.”
“Really?”
“No homework.”
An excellent point.
One I couldn’t argue with.
I stretched my legs across the sand.
The ocean sparkled beneath the moonlight.
Everything felt calm.
Comfortable.
Then Kira suddenly leaned against my shoulder.
“Nanny?”
“Yes, baby?”
“If I had a dragon, would Daddy let me keep it?”
I immediately laughed.
“No.”
“What if it was tiny?”
“No.”
“What if it was polite?”
“No.”
“What if it paid taxes?”
I stared at her.
“Kira.”
“What?”
“Where did you hear that?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer explained absolutely nothing.
We sat quietly for a while.
Not because there was nothing to say.
Because comfortable people don’t always need to fill silence.
The waves spoke enough for both of us.
Eventually Kira drew shapes in the sand using a small stick.
Stars.
Hearts.
Random circles.
Then she glanced up at me.
“Nanny?”
“Yes?”
“Do you miss Italy?”
The question surprised me.
“A little.”
“Why only a little?”
Because if I said a lot, I would miss it even more.
Because home was complicated.
Because growing up sometimes meant leaving places you loved.
Instead I smiled.
“Because I also like being here.”
She seemed satisfied with that.
Then her face brightened again.
“Oh!”
A dangerous word.
Very dangerous.
“What?”
“If Daddy was an animal, what would he be?”
I immediately started laughing.
“Kira.”
“What?”
“That is mean.”
“It is not.”
“It is.”
“It is a scientific question.”
I laughed harder.
A scientific question.
Of course.
Kira waited patiently.
Or as patiently as a six-year-old could.
Finally I surrendered.
“A bear.”
Her eyes widened.
“Why?”
“He is big.”
“True.”
“Grumpy.”
“Very true.”
“Protective.”
She nodded enthusiastically.
“Extremely true.”
“And secretly soft.”
Kira gasped dramatically.
“That is confidential information.”
I covered my mouth.
“Sorry.”
“You cannot tell people.”
“I understand.”
She looked suspicious.
As though evaluating whether I could be trusted with state secrets.
Eventually she nodded.
Apparently I passed.
Good.
Because I valued my life.
A few moments later she pointed at me.
“Your turn.”
“My turn?”
“If you were an animal.”
I frowned.
“I do not know.”
“I do.”
That should have worried me.
It did.
“What?”
“A bunny.”
“A bunny?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She smiled.
“Because everybody wants to protect bunnies.”
For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.
Something unexpectedly warm settled in my chest.
I gently nudged her shoulder.
“That is very sweet, baby.”
“I know.”
Of course she knew.
Kira rarely lacked confidence.
The villa’s lights glowed softly behind us.
Somewhere inside, Mr. Winslie was probably still working.
The ocean continued its endless rhythm.
The stars stretched above us.
And for a little while, everything felt perfect.
Simple.
Safe.
Happy.
The kind of happiness that doesn’t announce itself.
It simply arrives quietly and stays awhile.
Kira rested her head against my shoulder.
A few moments later she yawned.
Then another.
Then another.
I smiled.
“Tired?”
“No.”
The world’s most obvious lie.
I stood and offered her my hand.
She accepted it immediately.
As we walked back toward the villa, she squeezed my fingers.
“Nanny?”
“Yes, baby?”
“I had fun today.”
My smile softened.
“Me too.”
And as we headed inside together, I realized something.
Sometimes people entered your life unexpectedly.
Quietly.
Without warning.
Then one day you looked around and couldn’t imagine your world without them.
Kira was one of those people.
Though I had a feeling neither of us fully understood just how much yet.
- Writer
