Cheshire | Sequel to Home

Chapter 2: Fog

April 2024

Present

"And then, the robot's head breaks and falls to the floor!" Noah explains the movie he saw earlier today in the most passionate way possible; gesticulating, reenacting, and stressing every single word, "It was so bloody awesome!"

He speaks in an endearing British accent with a perfect mix of both British and American terms he uses randomly, like a brilliant combination of both Amy and Kit. I wonder if Archie will be like that, mixing Spanish, English, accents, and slang carelessly. So far he's mainly a proper English toddler that occasionally says 'si' instead of 'yes' - not that he speaks much yet- but I hold my hopes high.

"Watch your mouth, Noah!" Amy yells over the sound of the water steadily hitting the sink, it's impressive how aware she is of everything her two kids do, even when she's completely focused on something else.

His eyes widen and he suppresses his giggles pressing his lips tightly while looking at me in mutual understanding. I cover my mouth with my hand and joyfully follow his game; I have to be responsible for Archie's education and manners but with Noah and Jamie I get to be their fun Auntie Livie and I love every second of it.

Noah runs to his room with the clear task of finding his report card and bring it back to me so I can be shocked by his remarkable performance at school. Almost immediately Jamie starts whining because he also wants a report card and, even after Amy explains he won't get one until he starts school, he keeps on insisting. I try to ease his frustration by promising him school is really boring, but he doesn't seem convinced. Sitting on a high chair that once belonged to Jamie, Archie watches the scene silently sipping juice from his training cup; not having brothers or sisters definitely gives him a more laid back spirit.

"Remember when our biggest drama was which bar we were going to? Lena always insisting on that yuppie place downtown?" I whisper to Amy walking past her as Jamie leaves the kitchen looking for his older brother.

She cackles loudly before exclaiming, "Those were the days, girl!"

I laugh as I grab a dishcloth to wipe the remainings of Archie's lunch from the high chair tray; he babbles about the red car he's holding as I tidy up everything while following his few words with attention and mock-surprise. He has an overwhelming obsession with cars that probably has to do with the fact that his dad has a dozen real automobiles scattered across the world; the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree I guess.

Looking at Archie is almost like looking at a picture of Harry when he was his age; hazelnut hair, almond-shaped eyes, pouty lips, and an almost permanent smile. The only thing that says that he's my son - despite the 9 months he spent growing inside me - is his bright blue eyes, identical to mine.

I sit on the chair beside him taking advantage of this spontaneous moment of calm, more similar to the peaceful days back home we are both used to. I'm following his words carefully when the doorbell rings, my eyes travel to the kitchen's clock and my heart tightens. Two in the afternoon has never been an issue for me, just a random place where the hour hands settle once a day...or twice. But the past five days, two in the afternoon has been hell.

Amy stiffens in her standing point and looks at me over her shoulder, "I'm gonna-" I say before she cuts me off.

"Yes, yes," she assures nodding in a million short head movements.

I pepper kisses on Archie's face and the top of his head, hugging him tightly before running upstairs. I feel like a fugitive, like a criminal, like the shadow of the self-assured woman I once was. I feel like everything I am not, but I can't help it.