Who Names The Colors

Willa and the Golden Hour

"Harry!" She stage whispered. Jo needed enough volume to get him to look up, but was afraid to disturb his visitor.

He was seated on the steps of a country estate that had been converted to some sort of museum. They were both such dorks, that the thought of living out some Austen fantasy appealed to them. Must be why they worked so well. It was why they had chosen to make their way there on day three of Lake Country life.

Zoe had had different ideas. When she had zoomed through the art hall, the official gallery, like a Tasmanian devil, or at least, like a child whose mother had never taken her to a museum, Jo decided they had better try out of doors until she was a little more tuckered out; and that they should take Zoe to a museum. She was a bloody artist for fuck's sake, as was her boyfriend, and her daughter had never been into a museum, gallery, or even her studio very often. Zoe was only 3, but it still seemed a huge oversight. One to be remedied. Once they let her run wild they could try the gallery again. Hopefully she would let Harry carry her.

Outside, Harry had encouraged Zoe to play a game of tag with him, which had turned into hide and seek. From the smoothness of the transition, Jo suspected their outings to the park went similarly. She was behind a pillar when she heard an excited high-pitched squeal.

"Look at the tiny piggies mummy!" The noise might have been the animal, but Jo suspected it was her kid. Not the goats nearby. Zoe was beside herself and had no concept of her own volume. So the piggies in question had quickly scuttled off to their unhappy, grunting mother.

It was funny, or it seemed to be to the man accompanying them, who was bent over at the waist cracking up at Zoe chasing the piglets and then being chased by the mother pig. Zoe found it funny too, and had giggled then about faced and chased down the pig who squealed and ran away. It looked like an innocent version of Benny Hill, without all the misogyny. Jo's smile was unsinkable.

Zoe had set off to find the scuttling pig and babies and Harry had gone the other direction. Since her boyfriend was ostensibly an adult, Jo want after Zoe.

The duo had subsequently found the lambs and spent a good deal of time watching them. Jo then found out how to get Zoe to calm. Holding little ewes on her lap. She held still and whispered. It seemed to have a compounding effect. As Zoe sat with the lamb on her lap trying to be calm for it, she got calmer and calmer.

That seemed to be the effect this little escape to the Lake Country was having on all of them.

Harry certainly looked calm.

He was lounging in baggy trousers on some steps near a fountain. The day was sunny with that cool warmth of early summer, hinting at heat, but only flirting with discomfort. Harry looked like the daydream he was. His head was cast back and his eyes were closed, sun woshipping. This was probably why he didn't seem to notice the kid, the literal baby goat at his elbow. The sun on his face and the kid at his elbow was too bucolic to miss.

Jo had snapped a picture and then immediately tried to quietly get his attention. She imagined the picture would be cute, but that Harry would actually like to experience the magic moment for himself.

He needed it, he had been off since Jo got home on Sunday evening.

When she and Zoe got back from Bath almost a week ago, Jo'd texted Harry to let him know they were nearly home and safe.

He'd been in the kitchen when they got in. The kettle was bubbling and he had a piece of toast out for Zoe. Jo tried not to give her fruit this late in the evening due to the sugar and had recently had to slow down her cheese consumption. Otherwise, her Stilton bill would be ridiculous. Toast it was lately. Harry had adopted the new rule, because he used to have strawberries out for her. Zoe's favorite.