Night

After tea, Julia opened her bag and took out a small box of dark Belgian chocolates. Smith's eyes sparkled, but Julia held up the chocolate: "Sit on my lap first, and then I'll give you one."

Juliet laughed. "You really have the rule of aunts now."

Julia shrugged, sat down on the sofa, and folded her legs. Smith, like a tame cat, settled himself in Julia's lap - not on her lap this time, but fully in her arms, his head under Julia's chin, his arms around her waist. Julia put a chocolate in Smith's mouth and ate one herself.

Smith began to explain, as if he were drawing a mental map on the wall. Julia listened attentively, sometimes nodding, sometimes tracing lines with her finger on Smith's arm - invisible lines of windows and doors. Juliet sat next to them, opening Smith’s laptop and looking at the plan. “You’re going to put a little terrace here, aren’t you?”

Smith raised his head, but Julia put her hand behind his neck and pulled it back down. “Keep talking architecture in Auntie’s lap, little one.” Smith laughed and continued, his voice coming from under Julia’s chin, warm and sleepy.

The evening was slowly fading. Julia got up, lifted Smith like a light, feathery bag, and carried him to the kitchen—longer this time. “Light dinner. Hot pumpkin soup.”

Julia sat Smith down on the high chair by the counter, but she stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, resting her chin on his head. Smith stirred the soup with a large spoon, Julia with the same spoon—two four-fingered hands on the handle. “Take it easy, don’t burn it.”

When dinner was over, Julia picked him up again and carried him to the living room. This time she sat him on the loveseat, laid Smith across her lap, wrapped the fleece blanket around them both. Juliet turned on the TV, a Montana nature documentary. The narrator’s voice was soft, images of deer and snow-covered forests.

Julia put a finger to Smith’s lips. “Shhh… just look.” Smith half-closed his eyes, his head on Julia’s chest, listening to his heartbeat—the regular beat of a meticulous doctor. Sometimes Julia kissed his hair, sometimes she pressed a finger into Smith’s hand.

Juliet sat beside them, her feet on a

[hammock.

As

](http://hammock.As) night fell, Julia picked Smith up again—the last day—and carried him to the room. A large wooden bed, clean white sheets. She placed Smith in the middle of the bed, lay down next to him, put her arm around his waist. “Have a good night’s sleep, my good boy.”

Smith whispered, “Thank you… Auntie.”

Julia laughed, placing a final kiss on his forehead. “Auntie, always here.”

The window to the room was open, looking out onto the dark Montana forest. The crickets were chirping, and the warmth of Julia’s embrace stayed with Smith until morning—complete holding, no words, just regular breathing and a warm hand that didn’t let go until morning.

Julia returned to the living room

The two sisters talked all night

It was past midnight when Julia kissed Juliet and returned to her own home