Return to Summerhouse (The Summerhouse 2)

“What?”

“To put your finger on it.”

Stephen blinked at her a couple of times. “You didn’t just make a sex joke, did you?”

“Maybe,” she said, smiling enigmatically.

He seemed to be so shocked that he was silent, watching the road with intensity.

Was I such a prude before? Amy wondered, and the idea that what she’d been through had changed her made her smile. She remembered how shocked Faith had been at the state of William’s bedroom. Bedbugs, head lice, fleas. When Faith told Amy about them, she’d expected her to be outraged. Now Amy remembered saying something about there being a problem, but she certainly hadn’t been shocked.

“Are you laughing?” Stephen asked.

“Just at something one of the women I stayed with said.”

“You got along with them then?”

“Yes, very well.”

“The last time I saw you, you were acting like I was sending you to the guillotine. You didn’t want to stay in the same house with a bunch of strangers.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ll ever again worry about meeting strangers.”

He glanced at her in puzzlement, then turned back to the road. The boys started yelling that she had to look at what they’d made, so she gave her attention to them.

When they got home, the boys tore into their other presents and Stephen took the fishing rod she’d bought him into the backyard to try it out, while Amy walked around her house. It was the same but it was wondrous to her. She ran her hand over her huge cookstove. Stainless steel burners that turned on with a knob. No one had to clean it, or keep the fire going all day. Her oven even had a rotisserie and she remembered the fire dogs they’d had at Tristan’s house. They were iron cages that were powered by little greyhound dogs that ran around for an hour at a time. When Amy had first gone there, the dogs were made to stay in the cages for many hours. She had liberated them, and, like everyone else, they were given proper working hours.

Dishwasher, big mixer, food processor. She looked in wonder at an electrical socket, and turned the blender on and off a few times. Marvelous.

“I’m glad you came home, Mom,” her oldest son said and threw his arms around her waist.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I had a bad dream,” he said, his face buried against her stomach.

Kneeling, she pulled him to her. “Were we in a strange house and was I searching for you and telling you to get up, that we had to get out of the house?”

He nodded against her shoulder.

“I had the same dream, and you know what? It was just a dream. You woke up and I’m here. Right?”

He nodded, but still wouldn’t lift his head. “I love you and I’m glad you didn’t stay there.”

“Me too,” she said.

He grinned at her, pushed out of her arms, and ran away to go yell with his brother.

When she stood up, Stephen was standing at the end of the counter. “He sees it too. Something about you is different.”

“Maybe it’s just that I’m clean,” she said. “How long has it been since those boys had a bath?”

“How long were you gone?”

“Oh, Stephen,” she said in mock disgust, “I expected more of you. Really! This is too much.” She had her hands on her hips as she started out of the kitchen to get the boys.

He grabbed her about the waist and pulled her to him to give her a thorough kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”