Author's Note: I just wanted to do some stuff with Osvald's family here, since we get...pretty much nothing for them in-game. And it was cute for Hector to interact with them, too. (And there are definitely several more moments in here I had way too much fun with, again.) Also, yet more development for Rita here. So yeah, yet another chapter that's relatively simple but still has a lot to dig into.

Chapter Thirteen: Further Developments

School did indeed get easier as time went on. It was two and a half months into the semester now, and Hector was pleased with his progress. He was still the best in his class at reading and counting, and he'd gotten much better at most other things. Papa had promised he could go visit Elizabeth soon, too, so Hector had that to look forward to.

He was a little surprised one afternoon when Clarissa came to pick him up. She did occasionally, but it had been a while since she last had. Hector waved to Elizabeth before taking Clarissa's hand. After the first day they'd properly interacted, she hadn't seemed concerned with his appearance. Hector's quiet relief had soon turned into deciding he liked Clarissa very much.

"Where's Papa?" he asked as they walked.

"Oh, he has some surprise visitors today," Clarissa replied, sounding amused. "Ones who I'm sure will be very happy to see you and Elena."

She cryptically left her explanation at that, much to Hector's confusion. On the one hand, he liked guests, and everyone Papa introduced him to had been nice to him. On the other, it left him wondering who these mysterious people were, and why she couldn't just tell him. But, well, Clarissa herself had said that adults were confusing sometimes. Clearly, she wasn't immune to that statement.

At any rate, they picked up Elena and arrived at home soon enough. Elena had a key to the front door, and she unlocked it after Clarissa knocked. "We're home, Papa!" she called as Clarissa ushered them inside. She patted them both on the shoulder and waved to Papa before departing.

Hector peeked into the kitchen and saw two people seated at the table. One looked very much like Papa, down to the glasses and beard; the biggest difference was that his hair was shorter and mostly gray, with only a few small patches of black. The other was a woman with a surprising amount of color left in her hair: the same shade of blonde as Papa's and Elena's, slightly paler than Hector's own.

Elena instantly perked up as she set her schoolbag down next to one of the chairs. "You didn't tell me Grandma and Grandpa were visiting, Papa!"

"Well, yes, they showed up unannounced," Papa replied. "I wasn't expecting them, either."

Ah, so that was what Clarissa meant. Papa must have asked her to come and get them from school after they'd shown up. But these words were new to Hector, too, and he blinked up at them curiously.

"Who are they, Papa?"

"Your grandparents," he explained. "My parents—Victor and Mallory Vanstein."

He gestured to each of them as he spoke, and Hector nodded. Of course Papa had parents, too; Hector had just never thought to ask him about them.

"I'm glad both our grandchildren know who we are," Victor said in the same flat kind of voice Papa used when he was speaking to anyone other than Hector and Elena.

"You hardly came to visit yourself," Papa replied, equally flatly.

"Be a dear, Osvald, you know it's hard to travel when you get to our age." Mallory hummed in amusement as she fiddled with her mug. "Now, come here, both of you. Let me have a good look."

Elena obediently darted over to her and let Mallory examine her before flinging her arms around her. Hector hung back, still feeling shy. He let Mallory study him when Elena pulled away, and she patted him on the head after observing him long enough.

"There's a good boy. I have to say I wasn't expecting to have a grandson as well," she mused. "But I'm glad Osvald has someone else to look after. You'll do him some good, I'm sure."

Hector could hear the warmth in her voice, and he decided he liked her. Clearly, she cared a lot about Papa. He nodded and straightened up a little. "That's what Ochette and Agnea said, too," he declared, feeling proud of himself.

All right, they hadn't used the exact same words, but both of them had said that he made Papa happy. And that meant the same thing, didn't it? Though Hector noticed that Papa looked slightly embarrassed, and Hector blinked as he and Elena settled into two of the free chairs.

Victor snorted and rested his chin in one hand, displaying another mannerism reminiscent of Papa. "It appears he's got a third person to look after. You neglected to mention you were seeing anyone, son."

"I-I'm not—"

"If you're going to get remarried, I would like to meet her properly. Shooing the poor woman out the door is something you'd do, but—"

"Clarissa and I are not together," Papa interrupted in an odd, strangled tone of voice.

Victor gave him a highly unimpressed look. "I seem to recall you said the same thing for months last time. And you only trust her to look after your children."

"Which is only one step out of many." Papa groaned and buried his face in his hands. "…Mother, would you like some more coffee?"

"Yes, dear," Mallory replied, sounding amused as she handed him her mug.

"One and a half spoonfuls of sugar exactly, yes?"

Elena came down with a fit of giggles during the conversation, but she tried to muffle it with one hand. She didn't do a very good job, and Papa huffed in annoyance as he took a pot of coffee off the stove. Hector just blinked some more, not sure what the whole discussion had meant. Instead, he watched as Papa prepared the coffee.

"…You said sugar means it isn't coffee, Papa," he said in confusion.

"Only when Partitio does it. Your grandmother can do as she pleases." He paused to hand her the mug. "Do you need an extra chair for your feet? I can stand."

"I see you're the same as ever, dear. But thank you." Mallory took a sip of her coffee and sighed before going on. "And I'm fine. You can sit at your own home."

Papa settled into the chair between Hector and Mallory, and she continued speaking after setting her mug down.

"So…you've said very little about what you've been up to lately. I do hope you're enjoying your freedom, Osvald."

"Ah…" Papa absently fiddled with his hair. "Well, I've written a few short thesis papers that I just sent off to the scholar's guild for review. And…I have Elena and Hector."

He glanced in their direction, face softening again. Elena smiled, and Hector automatically grabbed Papa's sleeve. It was partly out of habit, but he didn't seem to mind the gesture.

"So you've been keeping yourself busy as usual," Mallory mused. "I'm glad."

"We didn't think you'd done it, you know. But by the time we heard, it was too late, and…"

Papa shrugged and glanced aside. "Well, there's nothing to be done. Besides, what matters is moving on."

"…Very well."

Hector cocked his head to the side. The exchange had been bluntly phrased, but there was a hint of relief in both of their voices. Adults really were confusing, but…Papa and Victor could be nice to each other. Couldn't they?

At any rate, Papa cleared his throat and said, "Well, since everyone's here, we could go out for dinner—"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous." Mallory chuckled. "Let me cook for my grandchildren. I can do that much."

"…If you insist."

"Can I watch?" Hector asked abruptly. "I-I mean—I watched Agnea a few times, and—"

"Of course, dear," Mallory replied as she heaved herself to her feet. "Pull up a stool and be careful. And tell me about this Agnea."

She began sorting through ingredients, and Hector watched her work intently. Her hands were gnarled, with stretched skin and prominent joints; they showed her age more than her face and hair did. But she sliced and measured the food deftly, only pausing to rub her wrists on occasion.

"Oh, Agnea is one of Papa's friends," Hector explained. "We went to Cropdale before school started. She's a dancer and we stayed there with her. She showed me a little, but…" He grinned sheepishly. "I don't think I'm very good."

"You'll just have to keep trying. And you should ask your papa." Mallory winked at him. "Osvald knows more about dancing than he lets on."

"I know," Hector said proudly. "He did a little while we were there."

He glanced over his shoulder at Papa. He was still at the table; Elena had pulled out one of her schoolbooks, and he was reading something she showed him. Victor was idly watching them, resting his chin in his hand again and looking more like Papa than ever.

"Well, what do you know? I wouldn't have thought he'd want to at all. Now hand me that salt, if you please."

Hector nodded and pushed the jar in her direction. Mallory took a spoonful and added it into the pot of vegetables. After she took a quick taste, she nodded and kept working.

Dinner was a thick vegetable stew, and Mallory insisted everyone eat third helpings of it. Papa grumbled under his breath—"I'll need an extra long walk tomorrow"—but he indulged his mother anyway. Then Hector and Elena curled up on the couch together, each with a book in hand, and he occasionally glanced up at their company.

Victor was nearly as quiet as Papa was; most of the talking came from Mallory. But Papa didn't seem to mind her chatter, and frequently went out of his way to make sure she was comfortable. It was…nice to watch. Papa obviously liked her very much, and Hector couldn't help relaxing as the evening went on.

This was another moment of feeling at home, Hector decided he liked it.

His parents stayed for a week, and Osvald had mixed feelings on the matter. Not because he disliked them; he'd just never expected to spend so much time with them. Even after his retrial, he'd simply had other things to focus on.

But "wasting time" wasn't always bad, so he could indulge them for a few days. Especially since both of them were fond of Elena, and they clearly fascinated Hector.

"Where do you live?" Hector asked the next day after school. He set his schoolbag down on a free chair in the kitchen and latched onto Father's arm instead of sitting down himself.

Father didn't brush him away. "Canalbrine. We retired there several years ago."

"Retired?" Hector repeated in obvious interest.

"We're too old to work. I used to be a fisherman." He paused and glanced over at Osvald. "Though I expect your father will never retire."

Why wasn't he working in his study? Most of his notes were there; Osvald would have to go downstairs and grab them eventually. He scratched at the paper he was writing on, frowning when his ink blotted the page.

"I'll retire if and when I get all the answers I need."

"You'll work yourself into the grave at this rate, son."

…Well, Osvald supposed that was Father's way of saying he cared. He knew how to read between the lines, and it wasn't like he could call anyone out on blunt phrasing. But Father knew equally well how important his research was to him.

Hector blinked, and then shook his head and announced, "I like fish." He paused before adding, "I like octopus. Can you catch octopus?"

A tiny smile crossed Father's face. "Not by myself. Not anymore, at least. But if you ask nicely, Osvald might wrangle one into submission for you. What else will he do on his breaks?"

Osvald groaned and buried his face in his arms. Just because he liked to work out in his free time didn't mean he liked to wrestle octopi. But then he heard Hector laugh, and Osvald sighed as he straightened up.

"…Like Papa," he declared, looking at Father.

And thus he spent a good amount of time latched onto him over the next few days (not that Father seemed to mind). But Hector spent a lot of time with Mother too, watching as she knit a pair of scarves: one for him and one for Elena. It was slow going, as she had to rest her hands often, but she spent most of her time knitting when she wasn't cooking.

"I used to be a seamstress, before my arthritis got bad," she explained, massaging her sore joints. "But it's been a while since I've had a good project to work on, and I should spoil my grandchildren."

"What's a seamstress?"

Osvald was sitting on the couch with an ice magic textbook in his lap. He glanced up and said, "It's like a tailor. You know what a tailor is."

Hector nodded. "Agnea's papa. But seamstresses talk more."

Mother laughed as she picked up her knitting needles. "Goodness, I hope your father doesn't rub off on you too much. There's just so much to talk about when I have you and Elena around."

Indeed, she'd volunteered to pick them up from school several times, and she clearly adored hearing how their days had gone. Father often helped them with their homework, and Elena and Mother both loved cooking. Once Elena put her books away for the evening, she usually helped with dinner.

"It's like helping Mama again," Elena said wistfully one afternoon, and Mother pulled her into a brief, one-armed hug.

At the end of the week, it was time for them to depart. Osvald helped them load their belongings onto the carriage they'd rented, and Mother hugged each of them in turn.

"Do take care of yourself, Osvald," she said gently. "I know you will, but let me remind you all the same."

He supposed that mothers couldn't stop worrying about their children, even when they were in their mid-sixties and had adult sons. Osvald sighed, but he smiled involuntarily as she turned to hug Elena and Hector as well.

"I will. …And I'll write."

Father shook his hand before patting Hector and Elena on the head. They both hugged him, and he didn't bother to hide his own smile. Then he and Mother climbed aboard the carriage; the coachmen directed the horses into a trot, and they were gone.

Hector tugged on Osvald's sleeve. "Can we visit them, Papa?"

"Well, I think Mother would like that. I'll see what we can do."

Elena laughed. "Does that mean you want to, Papa?"

"…Take it as you will."

She grinned as they went back inside. Osvald cast one more glance over his shoulder before closing the door. He would be busy for a while, but…maybe he could take a break sometimes.

Hector placed his new scarf on a spot on his shelf where he could easily look at it. It was too warm to wear it outside, but…it was pretty, with thick blue and orange stripes, and it let him remember his grandparents' visit. That was a nice word: grandparents. He was still experiencing new things, and the scarf was a reminder of that.

At any rate, the next few days of school went by quickly, and then he finally got to play with Elizabeth at her house. Hers was slightly further from the school than his was, but the walk wasn't too much longer. Papa nodded before squeezing his hand and leaning down to say goodbye.

"Be careful," he said. "I'll come get you at seven."

"Hector's papa lets him play later," Elizabeth grumbled.

"That's because he doesn't bring birds into the house, I assume," her mother replied in a kind of exasperated-yet-amused tone of voice.

Hector blinked as Papa shook his head and relinquished him. He glanced around with his usual curiosity as they went inside. They entered into a sitting area, with the kitchen behind it—opposite of his own home. Elizabeth kicked her shoes off at the door, letting them fall haphazardly nearby, and Hector was eager to get his off, too. Papa wanted him to wear them at school, and they always pinched his feet uncomfortably by the end of the day.

"Afternoon, Helen," called Elizabeth's father as he rose from the couch. Hector had seen him a few times; Helen usually came to pick up their daughter, but he did sometimes. He was tall—but not quite as tall as Papa—and had messy brown hair in a slightly darker shade than Agnea's.

Helen leaned up to kiss him, and Elizabeth wiggled in between them to throw her arms around his knees. "Busy day this morning, Rory?"

"Wouldn't you know it," he sighed. "More orders on produce than we can handle, but at least I got off early. Good enough to see our little troublemaker when she gets off school." Rory grinned and patted Elizabeth on the head as she giggled, and then he peered down at Hector. "And you must be…"

"Hector," he supplied, feeling awkward. Rory was giving him the same kind of scrutinizing glance that most people unfamiliar with him did, and he still didn't know how to handle it.

"He's fine, dear. Elizabeth came home in one piece last time, didn't she?"

"I suppose. The twins just woke up from a nap, by the way."

Helen hummed knowingly. "Right; I'll go and check on them."

"Twins?" Hector repeated, glancing over at Elizabeth.

"My brother and sister," she explained proudly. "They have the same birthday. Wanna come see them?"

He glanced up at Helen. "Can I?"

"Of course," she replied. "Just be quiet. They're always a little fussy when they wake up."

Hector nodded as he followed them down the hallway. The room they turned into had a pair of tall beds surrounded by rails, and two small children were blinking sleepily at the new arrivals. Both had Rory's brown hair, though one had his and Elizabeth's brown eyes, and the other had their mother's bright blue ones.

"Marcus and Melanie," Elizabeth whispered, pointing at the brown-eyed one first and then the other. "They're a year and a half old. Aren't they cute?"

Hector nodded, cautiously padding closer to them. Helen lifted Marcus out of his crib, gently patting him on the back as he whimpered in protest and snuggled into her shoulder. Melanie crawled forward, grabbing the bars of her crib and peering down at Elizabeth and Hector.

"Liz! Liz!" she babbled, apparently more alert than her brother. She moved one hand and made grabby motions at Hector, adding, "Who?"

"Hector's my friend," she announced.

He leaned up towards Melanie, and she poked her fingers through the bars. She grabbed at one of his frills, and Hector surprisingly didn't jump away from her. Melanie was too young to think he was "weird" yet, and she grinned as Hector started giggling.

"Are you ticklish?" Elizabeth looked over at him and spoke at her normal volume, clearly forgetting that her mother told her to be quiet. "That's kinda cute!"

Hector blushed for some reason, but he was too distracted by Melanie's continued attention to reply. Meanwhile, Marcus jumped at the sudden noise and started crying into Helen's shoulder. She looked down at Elizabeth and shook her head.

"Would you like to take Hector outside, dear?"

"…Oops," Elizabeth said guiltily. She got over it quickly, however, and grabbed Hector's hand as she turned around. "But okay! I can show you my new thing."

Hector glanced into the twins' room one more time before following her down the hall. That was another interesting new thing to him. He knew his, Elena's, and Papa's birthdays were close together, but none of them were on the exact same day, and of course they were all different ages. Maybe he'd ask Papa about that when he got home.

At any rate, Elizabeth was pushing the back door open soon enough. Then, she led Hector over to a small platform nearby. Each side had a few stairs built into it, and there were two short ladders in the middle. A set of bars were placed between the ladders, and Elizabeth grinned as she scrambled up the steps.

"One of Papa's friends is a carpenter," she explained. "He built this for me after I got in trouble for the tree. Papa said it would be safer. Now watch!"

She climbed up one of the ladders, then shifted and grabbed onto one of the bars. Elizabeth slowly made her way to the other side, moving from bar to bar as her feet dangled several inches above the floor. When she reached the other end, she scrambled down the other ladder and bounced eagerly on the balls of her feet.

"You should try, too!"

Hector studied the bars, squinting and tilting his head to the side. He was probably tall enough to reach them without needing to climb the ladders; he wouldn't be able to swing between them like she did. He stood on his tiptoes and reached up, finding that he was right. But then he thought of something else, and he climbed up the nearest ladder.

Soon, Hector was perched on top of the bars, and he grinned as he settled into a crouching position. He shifted slightly to keep his balance, looking at the yard below. It was like sitting on a tree branch, and he decided he liked being somewhere so high.

"That's not fair," Elizabeth huffed. "I wish I could sit up there, too…"

"But you can swing," Hector pointed out, quite fairly in his opinion. "…Wait."

He cautiously moved one foot, wondering if he could walk all the way across to the other side. It took a few minutes of careful positioning, but he managed to do it. Hector grinned as he climbed back down, and Elizabeth decided she was impressed; she clapped once he was settled.

"I do wish we had a swing," she mused. "But this is nice, too. My papa can't build stuff for me, 'cause he works at the general store and he's too busy. Maybe Mama could? She says she wants to go back to the inn once Marcus and Melanie get big, but she's home a lot now." Elizabeth wrinkled her nose and added, "Unless she gets me another brother or sister. She says they haven't decided, but how do you even know that?"

Hector paused to consider the question. He had no idea, either, but Elena hadn't seemed too surprised to meet him. What had she said about Mama and Papa, again?

"Elena said Mama and Papa were 'getting something for her,'" he replied. "But I don't know how she knew."

"Well, you should ask her when you go home. But I guess your parents decided you're the last one. Or else you'd have more siblings by now," Elizabeth said decisively.

Hector cocked his head to the side. "I just have Papa."

Elizabeth blinked. "Who's that lady who gets you from school sometimes?"

"Oh, that's Clarissa. She used to work with Papa, I think. But she's not my mama." Hector shrugged. "She wasn't there when you came over, remember?"

"Right, I guess not." Elizabeth nodded, but she still looked confused. "Anyway! Wanna do this a few more times?"

She pointed at her climbing bars, and Hector nodded. It was fun, climbing and crawling over them, but the conversation had puzzled him. Grandpa Victor thought Papa and Clarissa were together, too. Hector knew they were close, and that she'd taken care of Elena for a while. But he didn't really understand "couples" yet; he'd only seen Ochette's, Papa's, and Elizabeth's parents as examples so far. Maybe this was another one of those weird adult things he'd learn about when he got older.

But Hector was distracted from his thoughts when Elizabeth decided she wanted to show him Helen's garden. There were a few flowers he recognized, thanks to Elena, and he mentally noted the ones that were different. Maybe he could tell her about them when he got home… She'd probably like to know.

The rest of the visit passed in something of a whirlwind: Elizabeth constantly moved between various books and toys, and Helen had to pry her away from them in amusement for dinner. (It was quite good: fried fish and several kinds of vegetables, but the twins had softer mashed food that intrigued Hector.) Finally, Papa came to pick him up at precisely seven, and Hector was reluctant to go.

"See you at school Monday!" Elizabeth shouted, waving eagerly at him.

Hector smiled and waved back with his free hand. Papa nodded to Helen, and then he looked down at Hector as walked home.

"I take it you had a good time?"

Hector nodded. "I did. She has a—a nice thing to climb on. I don't know what it's called, but I like it. And there are twins." He paused and frowned before adding, "Papa, how do you get twins?"

Papa cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'll tell you when you're a little older."

…Adults were weird, Hector decided. But he really had enjoyed himself, and he hoped he could play with Elizabeth again soon.

The next few weeks were busy for all of them: Hector and Elena finished up their semester at school, and Osvald heard back from the Scholar's Guild. His papers had been on mathematical amplifications of the common fire, ice, and lightning spells most magical scholars used, and they'd been approved for publication. They were his first published theses in years, and Osvald felt more satisfied than he might have otherwise as the thought sank in.

Regulus had also written to inform him of a few upcoming conferences in Montwise, but Osvald had ultimately decided to pass on them. They were tempting, but…at least for his children's first year at school (or back at school in Elena's case), he decided it was important to be at home. Maybe next year, once they'd settled into their routine, he could look into that again.

They had a short winter break, and then they were back to school. Osvald was sad to see them leave, having been used to seeing them around the house for the past two weeks. But they were eager to get back to class; he was proud of both of them, especially Hector.

He turned his attention back to his current project. Osvald wanted to try something bigger: wind magic fascinated him, but it wasn't very widely practiced. He knew some basic theory behind it, thanks to Agnea, and he also knew various schools of magic often borrowed from one another. If he could invert a few variables in the standard lightning spells, maybe he could get a working wind spell based on that. They were commonly viewed as "opposites," after all… It would be difficult, but well worth it if he could pull it off.

That kept Osvald busy for a while; he was so absorbed that he barely noticed the weeks passing. But then, one late-winter morning, he awoke with a sense of dread in the back of his mind. He was abruptly very aware of the date. It was one he could never forget: Rita's birthday.

He lied in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Rita would have been thirty-nine today. She should have been able to celebrate with both her children and spend some time with her friends from the apothecary guild. And Osvald might have saved Elena and Hector, but he hadn't been able to help her—

Osvald sighed and rubbed his face as he sat up. No, he wasn't going to do this. Rita wouldn't have wanted him to brood. But—

She should have been there, and he found himself desperately missing Rita as he climbed out of bed.

He wasn't going to drink this year. It was the weekend, so Elena and Hector were home. Osvald could scarcely make an exception to his otherwise-strict no-drinking rule around his children. Besides, he thought with a twinge of embarrassment, there was definitely something Castti and Agnea hadn't told him about the last time he'd been drunk.

Osvald made breakfast and poured himself a mug of coffee without really thinking about it. He'd left some of his notes on the kitchen table last night, and he absently reached for them. He should've gone downstairs to his study, but…well, he was already here. Osvald stared blankly at the paper for several minutes, picking at his bread but not eating it. Why had he gone with such incomprehensible formulae for this?

"Papa?"

He glanced up and saw Elena and Hector standing in the doorway. Hector simply yawned, but Elena was biting her lip. She was clearly aware of the date, and Osvald swallowed and shoved his notes aside.

"Yes, Elena?"

"Isn't today—well, I just wondered if we—"

He sighed again and gestured to the chair next to him. Elena hesitantly settled in it, and Hector furrowed his brow as he sat on Osvald's other side. Osvald wrapped an arm around Elena's shoulders, and she scooted her chair closer to him as she leaned against him.

"Is there anything you'd like to do?"

"Well…" Elena briefly looked up at him. "I thought it'd be nice to make some goulash for dinner tonight. I remember most of the things Mama put in it… We might have to get some ingredients, though. I'm not sure."

"Of course; that sounds wonderful."

Hector had silently watched the whole exchange. He bit his lip and fidgeted, clearly curious but not wanting to interrupt. Finally, he blurted out, "What's today, Papa?"

Osvald let go of Elena so he could face Hector more easily. "It's your mother's birthday. I understand it must be awkward for you. You can't miss someone you never met."

Hector looked at him for a few more seconds before quickly shaking his head. Then he glanced down at the floor, and Osvald put a hand on his shoulder.

"That's natural. I don't expect you to feel the same way that Elena and I do. This is just…a difficult day for us."

It felt like a woefully inadequate explanation, but Hector nodded as he processed it. Then, he looked back up at Osvald and said, "Can you…tell me about Mama?"

Osvald leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "That's fair to ask. I haven't told you much about her. Rita was…special. She was patient and gentle and smart. Very smart. She was an apothecary, and she had so many things to keep track of for work. And she knew a little magic, too…"

He opened his eyes, smiling faintly as he fiddled with his half-full mug. "Elena has told you that she loved gardening. She was also a wonderful cook, and she loved to dance. Her presence could light up any room she was in. It just took a single word, or a smile, or a song…"

"Papa loved her very much," Elena murmured. "He smiled the most around Mama."

Osvald glanced back over at her; Elena's eyes were slightly red, but she was smiling, too. He reached over and gently brushed some of her hair aside, and her smile grew. It never felt like he'd expressed it enough… Osvald had always struggled to put his feelings into words. But he knew what he felt, and talking about it now had eased the weight from his shoulders in some strange way.

"You as well," he said, prompting Elena to smile in appreciation. "Besides…she adored you. Never forget that." Osvald took a deep breath, turned back to Hector, and added, "Rita would have loved you, too. Very much. It may be empty words, but…"

Hector shook his head, smiling bashfully. "I like hearing you talk about her, Papa. You look happy."

There was an odd lump in Osvald's throat, and he swallowed and nodded. If he could make Hector happy, then his clumsy attempts at sorting through his feelings were worthwhile.

Then, he cleared his throat and said, "Well, I'm glad. But you two need breakfast, yes?"

Elena and Hector shot each other amused looks before nodding at him. It was a poor subject change, Osvald knew. But…he had to take care of his children, and he couldn't spend the day stewing in his own thoughts. It was time to get to work.

Osvald spent a good deal of the morning in his study, but he allowed Elena and Hector to read downstairs with him. After lunch, Elena went outside, announcing that she wanted to take care of the flowers. Rita had always spent a few minutes in the garden at this time of day if she could, and Osvald fondly watched her go. Hector tentatively followed her, and Osvald was sure Elena didn't mind.

Then, Elena started digging through the pantry and working on the goulash. Osvald took his notes up to the kitchen so he could keep an eye on her. Cooking wasn't his strongest suit, but he could make sure she was being careful. Osvald quickly realized that he had nothing to worry about, however. Elena had picked up enough from watching others that she had a good idea of what to do.

"How is it, Papa?" she asked anxiously once it was finished. "I think I got everything right, but I might not have used enough seasoning…"

Osvald dipped a spoon into the pot and was unsurprised to find that it was nearly identical to how he remembered it.

"You did well. Just a little more salt, and it's perfect."

Elena broke into a grin and reached for the jar of salt. As she added an extra spoonful, Osvald couldn't help a brief smile of his own. It truly was like watching Rita at work, and he liked to think that she would been happy to see Elena do her recipe justice.

When he went to bed that night, Osvald felt considerably lighter than he'd expected. Rita's birthday would never be easy for him—but this time it had gone well, and he hoped that would be a good sign for years to come.