Chapter 497 Home

Katia’s POV

The car turned into the estate, and Aiden was already waiting for us on the steps.

He did not even wait for the car door to fully open. He ran toward us. Julian got out first and caught him, and for a second, my son disappeared into his father’s coat. Then Aiden twisted free and came straight for me.

“You were gone too long,” Aiden complained, his face pressed against my dress.

“Four days,” I reminded him.

“That is long,” Aiden insisted.

“It is. I missed you,” I told him.

He let me hold him for a moment, then pulled back and studied my face as though he needed to make sure I was still the same mother who had left four days ago. “Clara cried,” he told me. “A lot. Aunt Gail said her arms died.”

“Her arms did not die,” I said.

“She said they did,” Aiden argued.

Julian took our bags while Grandma Celeste stood in the doorway with Clara on her hip. The moment the baby saw me, she made a sound that was somewhere between a cry and a laugh. I hurried up the steps, and Grandma put her into my arms without saying a word.

Clara immediately grabbed my collar and held on. Four months old and already convinced the world owed her a person to hold on to.

“Welcome home,” Grandma said.

“Thank you for keeping them,” I said.

“They kept me busy. This one does not believe in being put on the floor,” Grandma replied, looking at Clara.

Aiden nodded seriously. “If you put her down, she screams. I tested it.”

“You tested it?” Julian asked.

“Twice,” Aiden answered. “Grandma said once was enough. I wanted to be sure.”

Inside, the house smelled like apples. Gail came out of the kitchen with flour on her wrist and stopped when she saw us.

“You look rested,” Gail said. “I hate you a little.”

“We slept,” I told her.

“Liar. You have that face,” Gail replied.

Grandma Celeste looked at Julian, then at me, and finally at Clara, who had decided my necklace was food.

“I hope you did not go to that island and start another one,” Grandma said. “This child is already a full-time job. She wants to be carried. She wants you to walk while carrying her. And whoever is holding her is apparently never allowed to sit down. I am old. Gail is tired. Aiden has been promoted to staff, and he is six.”

Aiden stood a little taller. “I am good staff.”

“You are loud staff,” Grandma told him.

“She likes loud,” Aiden argued.

I laughed and kissed Clara’s head. She smelled like lotion and milk. “No new baby,” I assured Grandma. “Just this one.”

“Good,” Grandma said. “Because if you came back pregnant, I was going to make Julian hold her for a week without help.”

“I would have done it,” Julian said.

“You say that because you just walked in,” Grandma replied.

We sat in the kitchen because the dining room felt too formal for a Tuesday afternoon after returning home. Gail put bread on the table. Aiden climbed onto the chair next to me and kept one hand on Clara’s foot, as though he needed proof that she was really there.

“Tell me what you did,” Aiden said.

“We swam,” I told him. “We walked. We ate fruit.”

“Did you see a storm?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered.

“Was it big?” Aiden asked.

“Big enough,” I said.

He accepted that answer and quickly moved on. “Clara learned a new scream,” Aiden told us. “It is higher. Grandma said it could crack glass. I do not think it cracked any glass. I checked the windows.”

“Very thorough,” Julian said.

“I am the supervisor,” Aiden announced.

Gail snorted. “He followed her around with a book and announced every time she blinked.”

“She blinked at me,” Aiden argued. “Not at the wall. At me.”

Grandma Celeste set the tea down and looked at the baby in my arms. Clara had gone completely quiet, which in this house counted as an event.

“She knows you,” Grandma said. “She screamed for Gail. She screamed for me. She screamed when Aiden tried putting her in the stroller. Then you walk in, and she grabs your collar like she filed a complaint and you are the person responsible for fixing it.”

“I missed her,” I said.

“She missed being carried by the right person,” Grandma replied. “Do not put her down yet. Give us ten minutes of peace.”

I did not put her down. Julian stood behind my chair with one hand resting on my shoulder, and for a while, the kitchen was filled with nothing but bread, tea, and Aiden telling us about the butterfly he had chased through the garden and failed to catch.

Gail sat across from me and watched Clara’s little hand wrapped around my necklace.

“She is heavier,” Gail said.

“She eats,” Grandma replied. “And she refuses to sleep in the crib as though it personally insulted her.”

“We tried,” Gail added. “She has opinions.”

“Windsor opinions,” Grandma said. “Loud ones.”

Aiden leaned against my side. “Are you staying now?”

“We are staying,” I promised him.

“Good,” Aiden said. “Because if you leave again, Clara will scream at me, and I only have two arms.”

Julian’s mouth twitched with amusement. “We are not leaving.”

Grandma poured herself more tea and did not soften what she said next. “Enjoy the quiet while she is asleep on you. In an hour, she will want to go into the garden, and whoever takes her out there will have to carry her and keep walking until their back starts complaining. I am volunteering, Julian.”

“Accepted,” Julian said.

“You say that now,” Grandma replied.

I looked around the table. Aiden was safe beside me. Clara was warm in my arms. Gail looked tired but happy. Grandma Celeste was running the room the way she always did. And Julian’s hand was still resting on my shoulder.

The island had been ours. But this was everything waiting for us beyond it. Our home was loud and full, and everyone in it seemed to need someone to hold on to.