Nah, the dress from the Oscars, that Jackie Kennedy also wore years ago. The other green dress would be a bit risqué for Evy, don't you think? ;)

sometimes i can't move my feet it seems as if i'm stuck in the ground somehow like a tree as if i can't even breathe and oh my screams come whispering out as if nobody can even see me like a ghost sometimes i can't see myself sometimes i feel lost as i pull you out like strings of memories wish i could weave them into you then i could figure the whole damn puzzle out then tell me what in world i would sing for

--"if i had it all" dmb

Being back in London brings mixed emotions. I'm sad that the honeymoon is over, but in a way I'm eager to start this life, this new, terrifying experience we've signed up for. What we do in these next few hours, days, weeks, will change the course of all our lives.

The apartment suddenly seems very tiny with four people and a dog running around it. And Alex and Rick don't seem to be speaking much. I mustn't rush them. They'll get there in their own time.

I hope.

Jonathan and Alex decided to take Rick to the grocery store, so I have been left alone here with Addison. The dog likes me well enough, but he won't follow my commands. I tell him to sit, he barks, I tell him to stay, he tries to shake hands. He won't even come when I call him, preferring instead to tilt his golden head and contemplate me as if I were insane. Right now he's draped across the luggage piled in the front hallway like it's the most comfortable spot in the world to take a nap.

"Come on, Addison, I need to unpack that bag. Could you get up, please?"

Addison simply gives me a look. No, you crazy lady, he seems to be saying, I'm trying to nap.

"I'll give you a treat! Want a biscuit? Mmm, biscuit...come on. Yummy."

If he could, I'm sure Addison would sigh grudgingly right about now, as he stands and ambles off into the living room. He didn't take the biscuit but at least he got up. I lug the heavy bag to my bedroom (our bedroom) and unzip it. It's Rick's luggage, from Boston, but all manner of both of our belongings have been crammed inside. I'll have to do some ironing.

Addison yelps from across the apartment. Now what? I'm not sure I like having a dog. Addison seems to be very high maintenance.

He sits in the living room, waiting for me expectantly, head low. He whines. Sorry, crazy lady, I really am. I didn't mean to pee on your carpet. I'll be real good from now on.

Grrr. Dogs!

When I walk into the kitchen Alex is sitting at the table, papers and books surrounding him. He looks up and says, "Hi, Rick."

"Hi. Um..." How exactly does one converse with eight year-olds, much less long-lost eight year-old sons? "What are you working on?"

He makes a face. "French."

Oh thank God. At least it's not ancient Egyptian. This, I can handle. "Depuis combien de temps avez-vous étudié français?" *

Now he looks very suspicious. "Parlez-vous français?"

"Un peu."

"Would you..." His eyes flit toward the empty chair next to him. "...help me with it?"

"Sure." I sit and glance at the French textbook. "So, three languages, huh? Pretty impressive for the fifth grade."

"It was mum's idea." Alex taps his pencil on the notebook. "Where'd you learn French?"

"Foreign Legion."

"No way! You were in the French Foreign Legion?!" So much for homework. "That is so cool! What was it like?"

"Well, I really wouldn't recommend it."

"I want to be a fighter pilot, in the RAF," he informs me proudly. "Or an explorer." He thinks very hard about this. "Or prime minister. Or maybe a baseball player. I haven't decided yet."

"You've got plenty of time, I think."

Evy comes into the kitchen, stopping short when she sees us sitting there. "Oh. Hello, boys. What are we working on?"

"French," we reply in unison.

"Rick, you sp--" Evy stops herself. "How nice. You've got five minutes, Alex, and you know you have to get up early tomorrow--"

"I know, Mum, I know." Alex picks up the pencil again, preparing to appear studious. "I'm doing homework."

She smiles and leaves the kitchen. Something's bothering her, she told me with her eyes without meaning to. I realize Alex has said something. "What?"

"Arnaud et Renaud saluent leurs copains à l'aéroport. So, in past tense, it'd be..." Alex looks to the ceiling, translating in his head. "Arnaud et Renaud ont salué leurs copains à l'aéroport. Right?"

"Oui. Spell salué for me."

"Es, ah, elle, ooh, euh, accent egu." I nod my approval and he grins. "Score one for Alex."

"You're an old pro at this. Know a fourth language by chance?"

He shrugs, packing up his homework. "Mum said something about starting heratic soon. She says I've a knack."

"Apparently."

"Well." He slings his backpack over his shoulder. "Goodnight, then. See you in the morning."

"Yeah. Night."

He pauses for a moment, waiting for something, but then turns and hurries out of the room. Jesus, this is difficult. At least neither of us really know what we're doing. Evy seems to be very nervous about the whole thing, but I think it's going rather well. Especially considering my relationship with my own father was... Well, not idyllic. I guess the difference was, we never got past the part where we parted ways.

The exhaustion of traveling suddenly weighs heavy, and sleep sounds like heaven. It's impossible to get lost in this little apartment, but it takes me a while to navigate the bathroom. Lord, you'd think Evelyn wore more makeup than Cleopatra, there's so much crap in the medicine cabinet. I clear a small space on the top shelf and set my toothbrush there. Small victories, Rick. Small victories.

The mattress is too fluffy, but at least I thought to pack my own pillow with my first stage of luggage. The unfamiliarity makes me feel like I'm staying in a hotel, staring at a ceiling that isn't mine, wondering if I'll remember where I am in the morning.

Evelyn pulls aside the covers (I've already learned that she's a cover-hog) and takes her half of the bed. Her presence makes it feel more like home. "Alex is sound asleep," she says. "Addison was in there, too, I didn't have the heart to wake him."

"Just don't let him on the bed, or he'll never leave."

I can hear Evelyn take a deep breath--her strategy, I've discovered, for pauses in conversation. "Alex is happy we're back. I think he's...happy you're here."

"I'm happy I'm here, too. Is something bothering you?"

She rolls over, facing me. "Did you learn French in the Legion?"

"Yeah. And in school. And in Morocco."

Her eyes flit about like they do when she doesn't want to look at me. "I can't believe I didn't know that."

"It's not a big deal. Tell me something little that I don't know about you."

Her eyes show some interest now. A mystery to be solved. "Um... Guess what I wrote my thesis on?"

"If it isn't the Book of the Dead I'll be completely shocked."

She laughs. "God, no. I was over that. It was about Menes, the uniter of Lower and Upper Egypt."

"Fascinating, Dr. O'Connell, do tell me more."

"Well, he built Memphis and Crocodilopolis, and legend has it he was killed by a hippopotamus after reigning for sixty years. It's only thirty-four pages long, darling, you'll have to read it."

"I can't wait."

"By the way, you can have more of the medicine cabinet for your stuff." She yawns, snuggling further under the covers. "I need to clean it out anyway."

"How thoughtful of you. We're going to need a bigger place, you know."

"Yeah," she mumbles. I love her voice just before she falls asleep, heavy and light at the same time. "You think maybe we could have a yard?..."

She's asleep now, I can feel it in her breathing, but I answer anyway. "Anything you want."

~*~*~*~

Forgive my French:)~

*How long have you been studying French?

You speak French?

A little.

Arnaud and Renaud greet their friends at the airport.

Arnaud and Renaud greeted their friends at the airport.