Page 41 of Kindling
Her eyes snagged back on the picture. “You can see my teeth,” she said.
“Breaking news: Manchester woman has incisors.”
“I don’t like my teeth,” she explained. “They don’t fit in my mouth properly.”
“That’s not how teeth work.”
“That’s what my orthodontist said!”
“You need a new orthodontist.”
She huffed, glaring at him like he’d been the one to plant such silly ideas in her head.
It was adorable. It was devastating. He wanted her to see what he saw.
Slowly, he traced figure eights on her thigh. “When you smile, your eyes sparkle,” he said. “And you get a little dimple just here.” He tapped the side of her mouth. “And here.” The side of her chin. “And your cheeks turn round and pink, and I want to kiss them over” – he kissed that ghost of a dimple – “and over again.” Another, across her nose and into her Cupid’s bow. “I think everybody deserves to know that.”
She smiled against his lips. “You always know the right thing to say. It’s irritating.”
“Aye, I know. I’m terrible,” he teased.
She slung her legs across his hips, straddling him – and left her phone abandoned on the floor beside them as she kissed him over and over again.
17
Harper stepped into St. Margaret’s the following Monday to a cacophony of song and squeals echoing through the church. It was as lovely inside as it was out, with stained glass windows casting colourful prisms across the pews and the children’s artwork scattered on the walls.
She followed the unsynchronised chorus of “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round” towards an oak door, where a laminated sheet of paper was fixed, readingCommunity Room and Playgroupin jazzy WordArt.
She stopped in front of it and took a deep breath. Was this strange? She wasn’t part of the community. She didn’t have a child. She was only beginning to get to know Fraser, let alone his sisters…
But she’d been invited. Fraser had promised Eiley that she’d be here after talking her into it between slurps of their Pot Noodles yesterday.
So she would be.
She opened the door and stepped inside, barely noticed by the circle of parents, children, and volunteers singing nursery rhymes. Halloween garlands with paper pumpkins and ghosts were draped on every wall,fake cobwebs shrouding every corner in preparation for the coming weekend. A toddler wearing galaxy-patterned ear defenders and a T-shirt reading “Boo!” waddled over to her, a rusk biscuit melting to goo in each fist.
“Hello,” Harper knelt down to greet them. The kid was adorable, with wide blue eyes and fine, strawberry blonde hair down to their shoulders. They smiled widely at Harper, displaying two gapped front teeth.
“Sky!” called a soft, familiar voice. Giggling, Eiley tiptoed between toys and children before picking up the toddler and planting kisses on his cherubic cheeks. She looked at Harper and exclaimed, “You came!”
“I did…” Harper straightened up and pouted fondly at Sky, tickling his soft tummy. He looked just like his mum, fair and kind. “Hello there. You’re gorgeous!”
Sky let out a stream of giggles, then kicked to get down. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he was off again, seeking out a xylophone to play with.
“Wow, you’re lucky you got a smile! He doesn’t always pay attention to new faces.”
Harper’s spirits lifted. She was just glad to receive any welcome at all. “Thank you again for inviting me.”
“Of course. Thank you for coming.” Eiley tugged at the hem of her jumper nervously. “Would you like to meet my youngest?”
“Yes!” Harper said quickly. They crossed the room to a pram, where an alert baby played with a stuffed lamb. Like Sky, they had bright eyes and wisps of golden hair.
Eiley unfastened them from the seat and tucked them into her chest. “This is Saffron,” she said proudly. “Would you like to hold her?”
“Is that okay?” Harper’s voice turned frail. She really did love babies.
Eiley tucked Saffron into her arms. Harper wasn’t quite sure how to hold her. She adjusted her carefully, letting her jittery, tiny body rest on her arms.
