Gathered Up. Annabeth Albert

I see this coming out in my latest designs, too, that element of the unexpected, the whimsical where one least expects it. And as for myself…yes, I do enjoy teasing as well, and that’s all I’m going to say about that.—Evren’s Yarnings

      My obsession with Ev’s voice grew by leaps and bounds after our almost phone sex, but while our conversations stayed flirty the next few days, we didn’t reenter the one-handed conversation territory again. Pity.

      “Are you working tomorrow night?” Ev asked as that week’s Knit Night wound down. Violet and the triplets were making Mira laugh, which was a great sight to see. The triplets this week were in matching fake fur vests with gaudy plastic buttons and glittery fringe.

      “I’m not. I’ll have the kids until eight or so, when Renee gets home. What were you thinking?”

      “Beer. I was thinking about beer. Or wine. A glass, in person, I think? Maybe halfway between you and me?”

      “Perfect. I know just the spot. I can’t stay out too late, though. I open the next morning.” And I couldn’t leave the kids overnight. Not that I was leaping that far ahead, but my body sure wouldn’t mind if we did jump straight from we can drink in person to let’s get naked.

      “Likewise. We will have a nice drink.” Ev nodded solemnly, like he would will it so. I tried to have the same certainty.

      * * * *

      Unfortunately, right when I was staring at the fridge trying to decide what I could make the kids for dinner before I grabbed a fast shower, my phone buzzed with a message from Renee.

      Home late. Studying with friends. Sorry :(

      No, she wasn’t sorry. She’d been pulling this a lot lately—going out with friends when she said she’d be home to help. I tried calling her, but it went straight to voice mail. Fuck.

      Just one night. One beer. Maybe a little groping. Was that too much to ask the universe? Apparently so.

      My phone buzzed a second time, but it was Ev, not Renee, on the line.

      “I’m sorry,” we both said at the same time.

      “I need to cancel,” I said.

      “Rain check?” he said, and we both laughed.

      “My sister won’t be home to take the kids.” I groaned. “So sorry.”

      “It is okay. Mira, her pain is not so good tonight. She’s barely eaten anything all day. She keeps talking about ice cream. Not store ice cream. Some strange stuff with bacon.” Ev said bacon the way I might say pubic hair.

      “Oh, she wants Salt and Straw!”

      “Where is that?” Ev sounded so weary and worried about her that I wished I could rub his neck.

      I looked over at the kids doing their homework at the table and at the uninspiring contents of the fridge. “It’s on Alberta. Not far. Could I bring you some? I can tell you don’t want to leave her.”

      “I don’t.” Ev made a pained noise. “I shouldn’t make you go out with the kids. However, I do have a whole pot of soup here that Mira doesn’t want. Could we trade soup for the ice cream with bacon?”

      “Absolutely. And trust me: the second I say ice cream these guys are going to be all over me. Shall we see you in about an hour or so?”

      I made sure that everyone had their reflectors, helmets, and pads on, and then we took the side roads to Salt & Straw, home of some of the most bizarre ice cream flavors in America and a beloved Portland institution. Jonas and I had skateboards, while the twins had the bikes Renee and I had gotten them from Santa the year before. Finding matching bikes at a decent price was totally my best Craigslist find ever. As predicted, the kids were incredibly overjoyed about getting cones. The gourmet ice cream was a pricey treat, but it was nice to be able to indulge them for once.

      Madison and Morgan got lavender and strawberry balsamic cones respectively and traded licks while Jonas went straight for the chocolate. I got Mira the bourbon and bacon ice cream and Ev some artisanal olive oil ice cream I knew Mr. Quality over Quantity would enjoy. The kids finished their small cones before we even reached the store.

      Ev met us at the backstairs of Iplik. “You will want to put the bikes in here, girls. And the skateboards too, yes? I have the soup set out for you upstairs.”

      We stowed our stuff in the storage room at the back of the store and then followed Ev up the rear stairs that came out in the back of the apartment.

      “I got you a flavor, too—no bacon. You’ll like it.” I held out the cartons.

      “I will put it in the freezer, but first: soup.” He led us to a surprisingly large dining room. I’d assumed the kitchen nook was their only eating area, but this was a real family dining room, with a round table covered in a crisp floral-print cloth and bowls of steaming soup and bread set out. The chairs all matched and the space had terrific energy—like you could sense the joy the room had held. I could almost picture Ev and his aunts enjoying a lot of happy meals there when he was a teenager.

      “Oh, I thought you’d just send us back home with plasticware,” I said stupidly. The kids raced around, grabbing seats.

      “Nonsense.” Ev shook his head. “Mira is set with her show. We won’t disturb her, but we can enjoy a meal together.”

      “Mira is not set with her show.” A weak-voiced Mira came to the door of the dining room. “We have guests. I will sit at my table a bit, I think. You will bring my cushions?”

      “Certainly, Hala.” Ev scurried away and returned with two pillows. He arranged her like a queen, fussing with her shawl.

      “And I think…” She winked at the kids. “I will be very naughty and have my ice cream instead of the soup.”

      “We had our ice cream first, too!” Madison announced. “Mine was lavender. Brady says it tastes like soap. But I love it.”

      “It is indeed good to have things you love,” Mira said indulgently. Her voice was weak and a bit slurred.

      “She’s had her pain meds,” Ev whispered in my ear. “She’ll probably sleep soon, but it is good, I think, for her to see the children.”

      I wasn’t so sure. My siblings were hardly low stress, attacking the soup and bread like they hadn’t just had the ice cream treat. They bickered over whose bread had more butter and reached around each other to trade napkins based on color preferences. The soup was really good, though—an interesting mix of barley and spices and ground meat. It was hearty and fortifying and I shared Ev’s disappointment that Mira couldn’t enjoy it. She ate two or three small teaspoons of ice cream, then put her spoon down.

      She mainly seemed to soak in our chaos. She kept smiling at Ev and me encouragingly. She doesn’t want Ev to be alone. My gut twisted because I got what she wanted for him and I couldn’t be that guy—my life was too much of a mess and I didn’t have time to give him the focus he deserved. Even a quickie at some point seemed like a pipe dream.

      The soup she couldn’t eat was a heavy weight in my stomach. She may not come back from this. I’d known that of course, but this was the first time the reality of her situation really smacked me. Ev was always so positive on the phone—another treatment, another drug, anything to strive for. He really believed she could beat the odds. Even now, he hovered over her so sweetly. What will happen to him if she goes? I didn’t want to think about that.

      “And now, I think it’s time for my TV. A movie perhaps? Would you children like to choose for me?” she asked in a thready voice.

      “Oh, we don’t need to stay. You need your rest.” I shot the twins a look so they wouldn’t contradict me.

      “Nonsense. I will doze better in the company of these young spirits. And they can choose me something uplifting. Evren will settle me nicely. And you can both have a visit.”

      The