An Inconvenient Flame

Chapter 23

Ivaan sits curled up on the large chesterfield in the corner of the living room, flipping through a picture book.

His act reminds me of last night, how I found his mother sitting in the same position with a book in her hand.

Like mother like son.

Eventhough Tinkerbell is not this little monkey's mother, but seeing them together hardly makes me believe the fact.

He glances up nervously when I enter.

"Good morning, Ivaan," I say in my steady voice.

Ivaan mumbles a nearly inaudible reply, dropping his gaze back to the pages.

I settle myself on the sofa across from him. "That looks like a very interesting book. May I know what it's about?" Damn, why I feel like I am talking to a little version of my wife.

Ivaan shyly holds up the book to show him the cover. "It's about explorer mice who go on adventures."

"Ah, fascinating. I always wondered what mice might up to," I say, eyes twinkling slightly.

Ivaan relaxes a little bit and starts softly telling me about the explorer mice's quest to find treasure.

After a while, "You know, Ivaan, I have a large collection of books in my study. Would you like to come choose some new books to read?" Ivaan's eyes widen but he nods eagerly.

"Wonderful. Let's go see my study." I pick Ivaan in my arms, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink with shyness.

As we enter the study, his eyes grow round as he takes in the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls, packed with more books than he's ever seen. I gently put him down.

"Go ahead and look around," I encourage.

"What kinds of books do you like?" Ivaan wanders slowly along the shelves, one small hand trailing over the leather spines. "I like books with animals...and fairy tales..." he says quietly.

I join him and select a beautifully illustrated edition of Rudyard Kipling's Just So Stories.

"These are some of my favorites from when I was your age," I share. Ivaan holds the book carefully. Looking at me with fascination.

He flips through the pages of cats and whales and elephants, enchanted by the detailed pictures.

After a while, he looks up at me. "Will you read one to me?" he asks in a voice just above a whisper.

My stern face softens. "I would be delighted to," I reply, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. We settle in plush armchairs by the window. Sunlight streams over us as I read aloud. Ivaan listens, perfectly content.

As I read the Just So Stories, my serious demeanor melts away. A small smile plays on my lips as I give each animal character a funny voice.

Ivaan listens with rapt attention, shoulders shaking with giggles at my dramatizations.

When I finish the story about how the elephant got its trunk, I see Ivaan's eyelids drooping sleepily. I carry him to the leather couch, draping a soft throw blanket over him.

"Rest here while I do some work, Ivaan," I say quietly.

He snuggles into the pillows, clutching the storybook. Seated at my desk, the scratching of my pen fills the comfortable silence. Now and then, I steal a glance at the napping boy.

I smile softly as I as watch Ivaan sleep, his small chest rising and falling rhythmically.

If someone would have told me that I'll be a married man with a responsibility of a kid in my 30s, I would have found it hard to believe.