Episodul 232 · The Spare Key

On Saturday morning, Soles reached his own gate with his bag against his leg and both dogs waiting on the other side.

Lucky barked before he had touched the latch. Mina stood beside him, her white muzzle pushed between the bars. Then she began making a small, impatient sound Soles had not heard for months.

He set the bag down.

— Hello, my two kids.

Lucky came through as soon as the gate opened. His paws struck Soles’s coat, and pain caught under the dressing at his ribs. Soles bent carefully, one arm going around Lucky before Mina could push between them. He gathered her in too and held both heads against him.

Lucky licked his jaw. Mina kept forcing her nose beneath his palm, insisting on a hand of her own.

— I know. I know.

He put his face into their fur and stayed there until Lucky settled enough to lean his weight into him, until Mina’s little complaints stopped.

Last spring he had come home hungry, still arguing with a client in his head. Lucky had tried to knock him down behind the house, and Mina had arrived to claim him. He had laughed and told them he hadn’t come back from a war.

His hand stopped on Lucky’s neck.

The dog pushed against it, and Soles began stroking him again.

He went around to the garden with both dogs so close that he had to shorten his steps. The table still stood beneath the pergola; beyond it was the greenhouse, the path worn through the grass to its door. He could remember the smell of stew from the kitchen, his mother among the tomato plants, his father turning a tomato in his hand before putting it in the crate. Kale had caught him reaching for the green ones and told him he would finish school before they ripened.

Mary had known he had something to tell her. She had kept working until he found the words.

For a moment he wanted to call into the greenhouse.

Mina sat against his shin. He rested his hand on her head and looked at the empty doorway.

— I’m home, he said quietly.

He stood there a little longer. Then he went to the loose board, recovered the spare key and let himself into the house.

Maxim had washed the dogs’ bowls. Their food was in the cupboard by the stove; Mina’s blanket had been shaken out and folded at one corner. Soles found the collars and leads where they belonged.

Lucky began turning in a circle. Mina watched his hands, her tail moving against the blanket.

— Slowly, he told the dogs. I’m not much competition this morning.

It was Saturday. Krista would be at breakfast, letting her tea go cold while she moved one task ahead of another. He stopped at a florist on the way and, with two leads in one hand, asked for seven roses, red and white.

At her door he moved the flowers behind his back and knocked.

She opened it in the clothes she wore when she meant to stay in, her hair still loose. Beyond her he could see the cup beside an open notebook.

— I’m back, he said. I missed you.

He brought out the flowers.

Her eyes went to them, then to his face. She drew a breath and kept it.

She slapped him hard across the cheek.

His head turned. Before he could look back, she had caught his coat in both hands and pulled herself against him.

— Don’t go away again. Please.

Her forehead pressed into his chest. He held the flowers out to one side.

— I thought about you all the time. Don’t leave me like that again. I missed you so much. You inconsiderate idiot.

The last words broke against his coat. For a moment he could only stand there and let her hold him.

Then he put his arm around her. The cut at his ribs pulled; she felt him flinch and shifted her hands, but kept her face against his chest.

He had spent so long making himself finish the next task. In the woods, in the cabin, at the desk afterward, he had kept his voice steady and found the words that would let him leave. He had rehearsed what he would say when someone at home looked at him properly. He could remember none of it now.

Krista was crying into his coat. The cold he had carried back began to give under her hands, and with it the effort of holding himself apart from everything that might hurt.

He wanted her closer. He wanted to tell her that he had been afraid. His eyes burned, and he lowered his face into her hair.

She lifted her face to his.

— You’re an idiot, you know that? But I love you just as you are.

It was the first time she had said it. There was a little of her old teasing in the words, but her eyes were wet and she was still holding his coat. He wanted her to hear his answer clearly.

— I love you too.

He held her a moment longer before letting her go.

Lucky nosed between them. Krista wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand.

— You brought everyone.

She finally took the flowers. A red petal had caught in the fold of his sleeve. She freed it, then touched the cheek she had struck.

— Come in. Have you eaten?

— Not properly.

— Sit down.

He sat where he used to. Krista put the roses in water and made his coffee without asking how he wanted it. He watched her hands and remembered mornings when there had been nothing remarkable about knowing he would see them again.

She pulled her chair close to his and took his hand. With the other, he wrote to Maxim and Tesa.

I’m home. At Krista’s, with Mina and Lucky. Come when you can. I’ve missed you both.

He sent it before he could decide they might be busy.

Beneath the table, Mina settled against his shoe. Lucky lay across the way out of the kitchen.

The coffee was exactly how she had always made it. He had missed this house too: the chair, the cup, the morning that belonged to her. He had missed being expected somewhere without having to finish anything first.

Outside, someone passed the window. This time he stayed turned toward Krista.