Page 16 of Legal Returns
LaSalle spoils her with a new tea set every time he travels. She’s using the latest one Misha sent her after LaSalle couldn’t pick it up before having to return home. Her uncle Misha refused to allow her to be disappointed.
Misha has become as protective of my children as we are. Karen has perfected the puppy face that gets her anything from the males in our lives. LaSalle, Logan, Misha, Uri, and all the others—no one is immune to our little girl.
Not even her older sisters. My heart is so full as I look around me. The ache isn’t there today, not right now. I look down into my son’s face and smile.
He’s a brown version of his father with a sprinkle of me. LaSalle wouldn’t be able to deny not one of his kids, those with Ellen or me.
Not that he would try. He loves being a father, as one can see from the number of children we have. I was pregnant every year for four years.
War or no war, nothing stopped me and LaSalle from growing our family. The only year I wasn’t pregnant was that first year after Elijah. Sometimes I believe my husband kept me pregnant as if that would sit me down.
Things are quieter now, but our loss has been an echo over the last year. I would like to have just one more, but that doesn’t seem to be in the cards.
I haven’t gotten pregnant since Lucia. That heartbreak and devastation have been so hard on us. It took a while for me to be ready to try again, but now I’m ready.
That’s why I’m taking not getting pregnant this time so hard. We’ve been trying for six months. I thought I would have been carrying our next by now.
One more. I would love another girl. However, it seems I was meant to be a boy mom. Three boys and one and a half girls. If not for Jessica and Megan, poor Karen and I would be outnumbered by the testosterone-carrying members around here.
“Is it my turn yet?” Elijah asks as he sits next to his brother while Sammy plays video games.
“Not yet, hold on.”
“You said that an hour ago. You promised I could play too, Sammy.”
“I know. It’s taking me longer than I would like to beat the last two levels,” Sammy says in frustration.
“Okay, I will be patient. Thank you,” Elijah says sweetly and scoots a little closer to his older brother.
At six, Elijah is forever testing his brother’s boundaries to see what kind of mood he’s in and if he’ll allow him in closer. He has learned that Sammy has days when he’s too overwhelmed to have his younger siblings up under him, no matter how much they love to be around him.
“I want a turn too,” Paulie says and rushes over with his apple to sit on Sammy’s other side on the floor.
“You’re going to need to wash your hands. I don’t want my controller to get all sticky from that apple.”
“Mom, Sammy isn’t sharing with me. I want a turn too,” Paulie whines.
“Don’t tell lies. I hate lies. Be honest and stop tattling. Follow directions and you can have a turn too.”
“Mom,” Paulie protests.
“Your brother is right. He didn’t say you couldn’t have a turn. He asked you to wash your hands first,” I say.
Paulie is four and loves to tell on his siblings when he isn’t getting his way. I love my son, but I know he’s a spin master when it comes to him getting what he wants. That mess doesn’t work around here though.
LaSalle can’t stand it. It’s a behavior I’ve been trying to help Paulie grow out of. Some days, he really tests my patience with it.
“Paulie, I told you to stay at the table with that apple.” LaSalle’s voice booms through the room.
Paulie jumps up like God himself just spoke. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles to my lips as my son looks back at his father then at his brothers. He then runs his little butt back to the table where he should be sitting to eat the apple he had to have before LaSalle had to take a call.
As he places the apple on the table, then scrambles to get back into his seat, LaSalle walks over to him and lifts him into the chair to help him. Paulie looks up at his father, waiting to bechastised some more. However, LaSalle only dips to kiss the top of his head before whispering something in his ear then patting his headful of curls.
Paulie’s eyes sparkle as he looks back at his father. All my children love their father deeply. LaSalle is firm but loving. He probably promised Paulie to play with him when it’s his turn if he stops with the tattling and storytelling.
Sunny begins to squirm in my lap. I lift him against my shoulder and begin to rub his back. He’s been cranky for the last half hour because he’s fighting off his nap. LaSalle comes over and kisses the top of my head before plucking our son out of my arms.
“You want to go take a bath and relax before dinner? Our reservations are for seven,” he murmurs as he pats Sunny’s back while swaying with him in his arms.
