Delighted CEO

I'm curious about Becky. I get up early the next day, without having slept the recommended eight hours. It's not even dawn yet when I take refuge in my office and continue the wor

His blue eyes under his long eyelashes stare at me seriously, his little mouth sucking hard on his pacifier. Lora, hugging her brother in a gesture of protection and affection, is also still analyzing me carefully, perhaps even with some apprehension and fear. - Where were you going? - The question is my way of keeping some conversation going and not letting the awkward atmosphere hang over our heads. I turn to the window again and see my backyard covered in snow. There is a moment of silence until Becky says to me: - Fortwood. - Fortwood? - I frown. - Yes. I quickly turn to her and, for a moment, I study her making the pancakes. I try to imagine which direction she came from to be heading to Fortwood and why she had to pass through here, in Kearney Valley. "Where did you come from?" She turns to me as she takes a pancake off to place it on the plate on the table in the center of the kitchen. So she doesn't catch me in the act, I stand facing my window, looking out at my white garden for the third time. "Aberdeen." My eyebrows furrow. That's... far. "That's a long drive," I say, and shove my hands in the pockets of my pajama pants. "It's over a twelve-hour drive." Another awkward silence. "Yeah." "Why didn't they fly to the capital and continue by car?" "I know Fortwood is a small town with no airports." I turn to her again, who's putting the third pancake on the plate. Becky looks up at me and looks at me differently. "Lora's afraid of heights." I look at the little girl, who's frowning vigorously. It's as if she disagrees with what her mother has just said. I nod and return to my position. We don't say anything else to each other for the next ten minutes-the exact amount of time it takes Becky to finish the pancakes and set them on the table with the coffee cups. She settles Lora into the chair and sits down with Archie on her lap. I stand by the window, the sight of her with the kids stirring something inside me. I can't remember the last time I experienced something like this. I've seen images like this all the time-in the neighborhood, at work, in the coffee shops downtown-but to have experienc