“I know.”
Raquel got down from the sink stool and dried her arms and hands, then pushed the stool to the refrigerator. Opening the freezer door, she got out a carton of ice cream and put it on the kitchen table, Becca watching critically.
“We already had dessert,” she pointed out.
“Mom didn’t.” Raquel took the ice cream scoop from a drawer, then a dessert plate from the cabinet, hoisting herself onto the counter to reach it. Finally she put a slice of peach pie on the plate, for a fifteen-second shot in the microwave before adding abundant ice cream.
“That’s Neopolitan,” Becca said.
“I know.”
“Neopolitan doesn’t go with peach pie.”
“I like it okay. And Mom will. She’ll like it because we took it to her. She’ll like it better than if we used vanilla. To her that’ll make it more loveable, and she could use feelings like that just now.”
Becca’s eyes widened a bit, dispelling her frown. “You’re right,” she said. Sages, she told herself, could not only get really good ideas sometime, they could be really insightful. Especially old sages like her sister.
* * *
Ben had seen the girls go to their room some time earlier. Now he stood with an ear to their bedroom door. Quiet. He went to the living room, turned on the night light and turned off the reading lamp. Then he went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him. There, too, only the night light was on. Very quietly he went to the open closet door, undressed, hung up his clothes and took out his pajamas.
Lee’s voice took him by surprise. “What the girls did, that was sweet. Did you suggest it?”
“Nope. It was their idea all the way.” He pulled his pajamas on. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was thinking. Wondering how they got so—wise.”
He got into bed. “Wise. That’s the word, that’s what they are. I don’t think I ever knew children quite like them before. Good genes. From their mom.”
“What happened to Mark’s genes? That asshole.”
“Uh-oh! Maybe I’d better sleep on the sofa tonight.”
She grabbed his arm. “Don’t you dare. I need a friend by me tonight.” She paused. “You three are awfully good to me. I’m afraid I get overwrought sometimes.”
“Mature warriors in the passion mode can be like that now and then,” he said playfully, expecting a swat with her pillow.
She didn’t take the bait, simply lay staring at the ceiling. “Is that what I am?”
“That’s how it seems to me.”
“That’s more Michael, I suppose.”
“Yep.”
“And you’ve known this—stuff for years. Pretty well, apparently.”
“Yep.”
“Apparently it hasn’t hurt you. That’s what helped me get over my upset. I won’t ask you to explain it though. My head hurts just thinking about it.”
Again she lay silent. Ben too said nothing, not wanting to interrupt her thoughts. “What did happen to Mark’s genes?” she asked finally.
“They did what they were supposed to do. They helped produce two lovely children. Picture Mark, then look at Becca, and you’ll see what I mean. Coloring, the chin . . .”
“Mark is an asshole though.”
“Inarguably. Spoiled. Totally self-centered, overbearing and intolerant.” He avoided adding a young warrior in aggression mode, with a goal of rejection and a chief feature of greed, with a secondary feature of self-destruction. “That’s why you divorced him and married me. But those things aren’t genetic.”
“You don’t think so?” she said thoughtfully.
“Consider the girls. And he’s their dad.”
“I’m glad Mark paid so little attention to them when they were little.” She sighed, and snuggled up to Ben. “I did a much better job on my second try. You’re more the reason than anyone else for what they’re like.”
“I’ll accept a little of that. A supporting role. But each and both of them started out superior. I’d say both you and I are learning from them.”
Lee raised herself on an elbow and kissed him softly. He returned the kiss with interest. After a moment she laid a hand on his belly, sliding it under his waistband.
* * *
Later they lay quietly, letting sleep gather. “Why do we always make love after I’ve been upset?” she murmured.