Marina - Motherhood
If the whole world were put into one scale, and my mother in the other, the whole world would kick the beam.
Marina dusted her hands of flour, then checked her clockwork. The first loaves would be out shortly. Though her hands had always been more comfortable with needle and cloth, it was surprising how motherhood could introduce one to all sorts of skills.
The children hadn't complained about her cooking for awhile. She took it as a good sign. The last mishap had been so bad even Arro had said something, though he hadn't been able to look her in the eye as he kindly offered to help her read the recipe next time.
Speaking of her three children, where had they run off to? "Arro?" she called, receiving no answer. "Lena? Loren?"
A giggle sounded from the living room, then a scamper of feet. Loren, her youngest, dashed into the kitchen and collided with her apron covered waist. "Mama!" he called joyfully, ignoring the cloud of flour that puffed around him at the impact.
"Where's your brother and sister?" Marina asked him, avoiding the urge to chuckle at his sparkling blue eyes-Aaron's mischievous eyes, through and through. In most ways he was her little copy: same perpetually ruffled head spikes, same red tinting, same smile, same steadiness. The village gossips might wonder how he came about. Let them.
"Lenny's with Merry and Hope," he told her, ignoring the fine powdering on his face. "Arro's watching for Mom."
Oh, Arro. Marina closed her eyes. Her heart ached for their Yuke son. Quiet and studious, he'd always been closer to Sherrill. Though her wife had written from Alfitaria to say the caravan would likely be back with the first snows, Arro had taken a book out to the edge of the path every day since the equinox. She knew he'd been having a hard time with the other village children-being the adopted Yuke son of a Clavat and Lilty will do that-but isolating himself wouldn't help anything. She turned to the oven with a sigh, ready to swap the baked bread for the prepared dough. "Would you fetch him?"
The door slammed open a room away, rattling the whole house. "Mama!" Arro shouted, and Marina's heart leapt to her throat. Had he been hurt? "Mama, Mom's home!"
It took her a moment to register the words. "Are you sure?" she demanded, cooling bread forgotten on the counter. Arro crashed through the kitchen entryway, running into both her and Loren. She caught his thin shoulders with both hands, steadying his shaking frame. "Arro!"
"She's here, I swear it!" he told her, looking down from his great, gangly height. Marina smiled at the differences of her two boys, one approaching six feet, the other not three, but both had the same imploring expression.
Untying her apron with shaking fingers, she nodded to the door. "Let's go meet them," she told the boys, though they hardly waited for her command, and the group headed out of the house at a run. As she sprinted down the village path after her sons, Marina couldn't remember if she'd even shut the door.