SIERRA'S LEONE

THE M-WORD

The doorbell rang, Jonas got up.

Sierra could not distinguish what was said, but she knew the man she saw did not speak English.

Jonas signed off some papers and began to enter the parcels.

"What's this?"

"It's material," Jonas replied as he posed the second parcel.

"Material for what?" Sierra asked while looking around her cramped living room.

"It's for your rocking chair."

"What rocking chair?"

Jonas smiled; Sierra always answered with another question.

"You liked the Moder Yoder one. So I'm going to make you one."

Query's frown formed on Sierra's face," Jonas, I know you're talented, and I'm sure you'll do a good job, but just let me spend the money. This is time-consuming. You have plenty of work anㅡ."

"Time used to make one happy is never consuming. You'll have a unique piece. Trust me, you'll love it," Jonas said while he grabbed a cutter and opened the boxes.

Sierra caught Leone before touching one of the wooden tablets on the floor, "where did you order this from?"

"It all came straight from my workshop in Sweden."

Sierra walked around and threw a glance at the cartons. She recognized Moder Yoder label, "you work for Moder Yoder?"

"Yes and no, I work," Jonas tilted his head both on the right and left, "but I also own it," he added.

Sierra nodded, "ah, you own it," she said as though she acknowledged what he said. It took a second for her brain to register, "what, you own it? Why didn't you tell me?" she exclaimed once her mind translated Jonas's words.

"Because you rumbled about the high price range, and I didn't see myself saying, you see that brand that's pissing you off right now is mine."

Jonas took off his tee, "what's the problem?" The man asked without thinking the action would trigger a reaction.

Sierra eyed Jonas up and down, "can you please put your tee back on?"

"It's hot here."

Sierra fluttered her eyelids, "we're barely in March, Jonas."

"But it's hot here; twelve degrees is already warm for Swedish. And working on this will make me sweat."

Before the image of Jonas's sweaty torso invaded her mind, Sierra slapped it out, "work in the basement."

"It's cold there."

Sierra's eyes grew wide, "the temperature is perfect for you Swedish, as you say. Besides, you work there at nighttime already."

Jonas looked at his son, "Leone, say something. Your mom is throwing me out."

The awkward silence that filled the room broke with Leone's laughter which he followed up with claps. Anyone would think he understood. One thing was sure Leone already had a cynical sense of humor.

"Eh, emㅡ," Jonas swiped a hand at the back of his head, "I'll go to the basement."

"Eh, yeah," Sierra hurried to Leone's room while Jonas began to move the elements for the rocking chair.

The woman's heart thumped. Not only did the conversation resemble one of an old couple, but there was also the sacred M-word.

Things had not toned down since Jonas's trip to Dijon. Both remained camped in their awkward position, and none knew what steps to take.

Sierra found herself submerged with steamy thoughts that made her temperature rise at regular intervals.

Jonas's adventure to Vincent's restaurant reestablished everyone's status for the man. He and Sierra were roommates, nothing more, nothing less.

Why did the woman's smile make Jonas want to yodel?

Or did the sight of the man provoke a heatwave of emotion?

Both slalomed between and around the evidence; they lived in a boiling kettle that could whistle at any moment.

Cecile saw right when she chose her friend and lover concerning their traits. More loyal than Jonas and Sierra, one died.

The trust Cecile bestowed upon Sierra refrained any hasty actions on her behalf, and Jonas felt guilty for falling for another woman so fast.

Sierra was still in love with Vincent, and from the looks of things, so was he.

For Jonas, it was just a matter of time before the man who almost had Jonas licking his plate of biryani came dancing his way back to Sierra like a Bollywood star.

Never did Jonas live such a frustrating situation. Neither he nor Sierra could sit down and talk about Cecile. Getting to the subject of their feelings seemed like a faraway Oasis.

Sierra made her intentions clear, and Jonas feared there might not be a place for him in the picture Sierra wished to paint.

So the man reminded himself daily of his mission. Still, Jonas wished to craft a world where the woman and his son would live happily for Sierra's smile. By default, the man chose to make a chair.

Jonas planned to cut, sand, and assemble all by himself. He knew it would cost him the remaining time he had with Leone and Sierra. He chose to start then, but he would work at night to lose fewer moments in their presence.

In the meantime, Sierra played with Leone. Her cheeks rose to blush when she recalled how Jonas called her. If he saw her in such regard, this meant he had made his decision.

Sierra could not be happier she hugged Leone, who did not understand the sudden mark of affection, but he cuddled to the person he loved the most.

He clung to the woman tightly and whiffed her soporific scent. The boy closed his eyes. Safe and sound were the words the infant would evoke if he could speak.

Jonas found both woman and child sleeping on the couch when he came back up. It was one of those lazy Saturdays where one is full of intentions to do things but ends up killing time.

The man felt at peace in this environment. Their presence even in silence appeased Jonas, who was just thankful to be there with them.

He approached the couch and bent on his knees. A strand of Sierra's hair covered a part of her face the man wished to see. He pushed the strand away.

Fire.

Never had Jonas desired to play with it as much as this moment where his gaze and face were barely an inch away. The closeness of the man's breath was what made Sierra's eyes flutter open.

Sierra did not move as she felt Leone's weight. She still carried the child. Thus all she could do was observe the pigments of Jonas's iris.

Sierra held in her words, she could only imagine the smell of her awakened breath, and the man did not budge.

Where a few would find Jonas's behavior somewhat peculiar, Sierra would have spontaneously touched Jonas's cheek if Leone didn't wake up to say, "ma-ma."

Both adults looked down at the child, who wiped his eyes.

"Did he sayㅡ?"

"I'm not sure."

It was one of those days where the street bustled. Some worked, while others hung out. Some cleaned while others bought groceries. Outside, the world kept turning, but for Sierra, the day was a special one.

One where both men crowned her with a title she relentlessly tried to earn, and it meant the universe to her because they and no one else pronounced the words.