Page 65 of Reverie
With a serious nod, he pulls away and goes to the stone table and bench at the center of the courtyard. When Kitty bounces over to him and hops up into the position he takes when I’m in a panic attack, I feel contentment.
Even though we’re all displaced, we have resources to cope.
I turn back to Ella. When I realize she’s smiling, more information molly-wops my consciousness.
“Have you spoken with Hunter?” I hedge. She shrugs.
“Yeah, I saw him last night. I probably shouldn’t tell you…or maybe I should.” She pulls me further away from the bench and closer to the French doors. When we’re out of earshot, she leans in closer, glancing at August from the corner of her eye before returning to me. “I offered him a little bud last night. He was just so damn tense, you know? Not that it really worked at mellowing him out.”
I hum. Hunter has struggled with addiction in the past. He’s told me that he only drinks alcohol on occasion, but he hasn’t used any drugs in years.
I’m pro-cannabis, but I’m a little concerned about him dipping his toe into substances again.
“To me, it’s not that big of a deal. But I didn’t want to keep things from you,” Ella adds.
“Thank you for telling me,” I say, my voice low. “How are you feeling about things?”
“I mean,” she says, shrugging, “how is one supposed to feel after finding out that their dead mother is actually alive and living with your secret sibling? Not to mention having their house raided and being forced to hide in a bunker?”
She pulls more candy out of the bag.
“But I’m alive, so,” she finishes and shrugs again.
“That’s a very practical stance to take, Ella,” I reply, watching her closely. She blinks at me.
I’m analyzing her to determine her mental state when Misha walks in with none other than Amelia Brigham at his side.
Misha takes up all the space, and Ella blinks at him as she tilts her head up to assess the Ukrainian.
“Hey. I didn’t get to say so before, and I don’t want to be rude. Thank you for the safe harbor. ’Preciate ya. Bro? Should I call you that?” Ella says while chewing on more caramel candy.
Misha’s face takes on what I can only interpret as an amused expression, and he chooses not to respond to Ella’s battery of questions. I shift my gaze to the woman next to him, and everything freezes within me.
“Hey,” Ella says to her mother, her voice small. “I’m uh, I’m sorry I jumped on you last night. I shouldn’t have.”
Amelia inhales sharply. “All I’ve wanted for twenty years is to hold you, Ellie,” she replies.
Ella falls silent as she looks at her mother, her eyes moving as if she’s analyzing Amelia’s face. “I look just like you.”
Amelia gives Ella a strange, unreadable look. Then, as if sensing our eyes on her, she raises her eyebrow and snorts. “I look like a monster now,” she says, waving a dismissive hand.
“Nonsense,” I rasp, but no one acknowledges my statement.
We stand around in an awkward silence, and my skin itches where the tape from the bandage meets my flesh.
“Would you, um…” Ella kicks a pebble with the toe of her shoe. “Would you like to maybe do lunch today or something?” She looks up at Amelia, and it’s like the sun comes out when Amelia smiles.
“You can come too, Misha,” Ella adds as an aside, almost as if she just remembered the pakhan’s standing right there. Misha lifts his hands and shakes his head.
“I’ll leave you ladies to enjoy your private time,” he says, more diplomatic than I’d ever thought him capable of being.
“I’d love that, Ella,” Amelia whispers.
Ella returns Amelia’s smile. Shifting to face the courtyard, Ella calls out, “Hey, August, I’m going to get breakfast. Wanna come?”
August looks up from his tablet despite the sound of explosions coming from the tiny speakers.
“Do you have Eggos?” August asks, directing the question at Misha when he holds up his tablet and faces it in the man’s direction.