Chapter 6 - Moving In

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LEWIS

What I just witnessed has left me not only shocked but also confused. Luke and Michael usually cringe at any form of affection and now they went willingly into the arms of a woman they just met. The family therapist concluded that it's likely due to the lack of bonding with Hannah when they were babies and my inability to show affection due to my constant depressive state. I've tried my best among the circumstances to comfort them when they feel sad or get hurt, but they won't accept any kind of physical contact. The only person they felt close to was Sophia, but since she passed away two years ago, they haven't shown any emotion towards anyone.

What's so special about Ximena? She's funny without a doubt as that's all the boys say about her. Kind too, seeing the way in which she talked to them and the warm hug she gave them. I don't know what to do. Of course, this is a positive development, but she'll be here for a short time. What will happen when she leaves?

The boys run inside the house the moment I open the door and station themselves in front of the TV. I grab the wireless phone and go to my bedroom. I need advice from the only person that gives me comfort.

"Good afternoon. Redmont family."

"Mom, it's me."

"My darling Lewis, how are you? And how are the boys?"

"They are doing well. I'm about to start dinner soon so they are watching TV."

"Bring them soon here. I miss you all."

"I miss you too," my voice comes out strained.

"What is going on Lewis?"

"Hannah is causing chaos again. The boys had been with her since Friday and she brought them today to the store after school because she's going away with her latest fling. This shared custody is ridiculous. The only reason she keeps this crap on is to spend the money I give her for them on herself."

"This is all so unfortunate, sweetheart. You wouldn't think that Greg and Hannah come from the same family."

"Talking about Greg, he was my savior today. He took the kids to his house until I could close the store. But mom, then something really odd happened with the boys."

"I hope nothing bad," she says in a concerned voice.

"On the contrary. Greg rented the top floor apartment to a young woman. The kids can't stop talking about her and even gave her a hug."

"Oh, Lewis, bless the heavens! What did she do?"

"They made a mess in Greg's kitchen and she took control of the situation. Instead of going hard on them, she made them help with cleaning, and then told them to ask Greg's and my permission before doing stuff. She promised to cook with them the next time they are over and when she asked for a goodbye hug and they gave her a firm one."

"Does she have children herself?"

"I don't know. I barely exchanged a few words with her. Why are you asking that?"

"Do you remember the first time you wanted to bake something?"

I do. I was probably only a bit older than the twins. I burnt the cake I made carefully following a clipped recipe from a magazine. My mom didn't yell at me because she saw my intention and comforted me, then told me to ask for help the next time I wanted to make something. She made me clean the mess in the kitchen first, and then helped me make a new cake. Ximena only treated my sons in the way a mother does.

The conversation with my mother doesn't bring a solution, but I feel much calmer when I hang up. I make dinner and the boys even compliment me on my spaghetti, which is also a new experience for me. They continue mentioning Ximena during the rest of the evening and make plans on what they could potentially cook with her when they come to visit.

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