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There were times when Gaia felt like the luckiest woman in the world, as though the heavens had bestowed good fortune upon her in a ray of sunshine, and right now was one of those moments. Though she despaired for her husband's condition and she would never wish harm upon him, it was only because of his accident that she could now sit with him in their café, surrounded by their children, while someone else did all the dirty work. Zara, Stella and Max worked behind the counter together, slipping into perfect synergy as Max took orders and Zara prepared drinks, showing Stella the ropes. Saturday was usually the busiest day of the week, which Gaia at once dreaded and adored, and it was a novelty to be sitting off to the side while her daughter handled the chaos.
Evan sat on the floor of the kids' corner, trying and failing to put a dress on a Barbie with one hand while Alfie watched and waited for the toy with incredible patience for a two-year-old whose father was proving to be fairly useless at dressing the plastic doll. With a sigh he turned to his wife, who sat cross-legged beside him with her back against the wall and a cushion propped up under her elbow as she fed their daughter.
"Can you do this, Gee?" he asked, exasperation in his voice. "I don't know why they make Barbie's arms so long and spiky – it's impossible to put a dress on when her pointy fingers keep getting stuck."
With a laugh, Gaia indicated the baby cradled in her arms, ten minutes into what was usually quarter of an hour for a lunchtime breastfeed. "Give me a few minutes," she said, stroking Clover's hair, "then I'm all yours."
Evan handed the tricky dress back to his son. "Can Barbie wear something else?" he asked. "How about a blanket?" He plucked a napkin from the nearest table, wrapping it around the doll, and Alfie laughed.
"No, Daddy!" he cried, taking the doll from his father, and he furrowed his brow in concentration as he disregarded the napkin and tried to tug on the dress. Gaia watched on fondly, smiling down at her son with a joyous glow on her cheeks, and she rested her head on Evan's shoulder with a murmur of contentment.
"You ok?" he asked, and she nodded.
"I'm fantastic," she said. "I'm thinking of weaning Clover off breastfeeding."
Evan turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "You are? I thought you loved it."
"I do, but it's pretty effective contraception," she said, "and I want another baby."
With a grin, he angled himself to kiss her. "That can be arranged," he said, his nose against hers, and Gaia's grin broadened. For a couple of months now, she had fantasised about having another child and her dreams were filled with babies: ever since she was a child, she had pictured herself with four children and now, she was just one away from that magic number. It was hard not to count the child she had lost, the impossibly tiny baby she had held and wept over, but he held a precious place in her heart and now, eighteen months later, she could think of him with a smile that almost overrode the gut-wrenching sorrow.
