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"Viktor?" Alice called out, pressing open the kitchen door that had curiously been left ajar. She stepped out onto their back porch. "Are you out here?"
"Here!" her husband called from across their modest backyard. She blinked, greeted by the rare, glorious sight of him in his suspenders and flannel shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was leaning casually against an old wood-handled garden hoe, chatting with Rob while wiping his face with his handkerchief. Rob, who was wearing slightly more respectable clothing but appearing just about as fatigued as Viktor, was crouching low to the ground with a pair of thick leather gloves.
"I didn't know you two had plans to start the garden today," Alice reprimanded playfully as she approached. "You should have waited for my help."
"I figured we'd get started while you were at work," her husband responded. "So we could surprise you." Viktor dropped the garden hoe and turned to greet her. She held her arms out, and he paused hesitantly.
"I'm absolutely filthy," he protested, and she drew him into an embrace anyway.
"That I will not deny," she teased. Rob chuckled discreetly as her husband blushed and reciprocated her hug.
"Go sit under that tree," Viktor suggested. "Take a rest."
"I always intended to help you two."
"Not when you've been working all day and we've been here, feigning labor and mostly socializing," he insisted.
"Viktor is correct, Mrs. Alice," Rob added. "I may be an old man but I've cleared many plots in my day."
Alice submitted with a wave, taking a seat under the shade of a nearby crabapple tree in full bloom. Puffy white clouds scooted lazily across a cheery blue sky. A whisper of wind caused a number of small white petals to fall, imitating a snowstorm in spring. She stretched out to lie on her back, staring up at the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves.
"I'm closing my eyes, but don't let me sleep," she called out hazily to her husband.
"When have I ever managed to keep you from your indulgences?" he called back, and a small smile crept across her lips.
Alice felt a pleasant prickle on her skin, the gentle breeze causing goosebumps to creep up her arms. She listened to the subtle rustle of leaves above her, to the intermittent hum of bees hard at work in the flowers nearby.
When she opened her eyes again, she noticed something remarkably blue in the grass beside her. She rolled over to inspect it: a robin's egg, cracked open from its fall. Its contents had emptied and dried long ago, leaving only a shell behind. She glanced up and spotted the nest on a branch above.
"An egg," she said aloud, briefly noting an unexpected tightness in her chest. Her husband paused his work and looked her way, then at the nest above her with creased brows. "Poor mama robin."
Just as she spoke, the robin returned, hopping along the branch and meticulously adjusting the twigs of her nest. She sang a few notes and fluttered her wings before taking her place on top of her clutch.
"I can't just leave it here," Alice pressed, more to herself than anyone. Her husband stepped forward and picked up the eggshell between two gentle fingers.
"Take it inside," he offered softly, crouching down low. "It will look nice on our dresser." She smiled and met his gaze, then accepted the egg from him.
"I'll come back with something cold to drink," she called behind her, swiftly adopting a cheerful affect.
"Don't trouble yourself, Mrs. Alice," Rob responded. "As Viktor said, this endeavor has mostly been an excuse to socialize."
"That takes energy too," she countered. "And I'll be happy to join you when I return."
The two men smiled and nodded as she entered the kitchen, the tiny egg cupped carefully in her palm.
An intense whooshing sound mingled with the sputtering flow from the faucet as Alice filled the clawfoot tub in their washroom. She left to retrieve a kettle from the stove, then returned to add an additional stream of hot water to the basin. While they'd been blessed to find a home outfitted with a geyser water heater, she often became impatient with how slowly it operated. A few trips with the kettles could speed things up significantly.
She managed to overhear her husband's soft footfalls in the hallway and called his name.
"Alice?" he questioned, peeking tentatively around the door. She laughed internally at the note of reservation in his voice. Perhaps she'd ambushed him one too many times by beckoning to him from the bathtub.
"Come in," she called. "I'm drawing you a bath."
"You didn't need to go through all the effort, love. I was just on my way to do the same."
"Well, this way you'll have more time to enjoy it before dinner." She emptied the remainder of her kettle and placed it on the floor. He stood facing her with a pointed expression and raised eyebrows.
"Don't worry, Viktor," she assured with a sly smile. "I have no plans."
"Yes, but I know how quickly you can formulate them."
She laughed and stepped forward to grasp him by his flannel shirt collar, undoing his top button with quick fingers, then slid his suspenders from his shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the sheen of sweat and smear of dirt at the hollow of his throat.
"Don't concern yourself," he implored, placing his hand on hers. "I must smell terrible."
She leaned forward and took a deep inhale. The scent of his sweat melded with the robust, chalky fragrance of wet clay and freshly unearthed plants. Her eyes met his and her smile grew. "You smell fantastic."
"Ah, I momentarily forgot who I was speaking to," he returned amusedly with a slight blush. During their time together at the villa, she'd developed the peculiar habit of smelling his laundry while hanging it on the line. He was mortified the first time he caught her in the act. Despite his protests, she insisted it helped her feel closer to him, and with their lack of ability to touch he'd come to allow it. Even grew fond of it after a while.
She continued to unbutton his shirt for him with a fuzzy, distracted gaze and he shrugged it off, then turned to drape it over a nearby chair. She left to retrieve yet another kettle of water. He took this moment of privacy to remove the rest of his clothing, lowering himself slowly into the cast-iron tub. The geyser bubbled and spat, struggling to keep up with the demands placed on it, and he leaned forward to shut it off.
"Pull your legs in so I don't burn your feet," she instructed as she returned. She bent at the waist to pour the contents of the kettle into the far end of the tub. His eyes flickered to her chest reflexively, then to the ceiling once he'd become aware of it.
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a significant glare.
"I like your uniform," he stated defensively.
"You've always liked me in uniform," she teased.
"Yes, that's true. But this one..." He reached out to grasp her arm, pulling her gently towards his face. Burying his nose into her sleeve, he took a deep, luxurious inhale. "...smells like Victoria sponge."
She chuckled. "Can you tell what the filling was?" He closed his eyes and sniffed again.
"Strawberry jam?"
"Blackcurrants and buttercream," she whispered seductively, and he stifled her giggle with a kiss.
"You need a bath too," he murmured in her ear. "I simply cannot allow you to smell this good for the rest of the evening." He tugged her again, causing her to lean precariously over the tub.
"My uniform, Viktor," she chastised with humor in her voice. "And the door."
He released her and allowed her enough time to shut and lock the door, then quickly undress. She threw her uniform in a hurried pile on top of his neatly arranged clothing, then crossed the room to join him.
"Won't I crush you?" she worried.
"You haven't managed it yet. Not for lack of trying." Alice rolled her eyes.
He hiked his knees higher as she slid into their tub, the water rising to a dangerous level with both their bodies submerged beneath the surface. With a little twisting and squirming, she managed to make space for herself against him, her head resting on his chest. She placed an ear against his heated skin, just beneath his collarbone, and listened to the steady thrum of his elevated pulse.
A deep, diaphragmatic breath caused his chest to press against her cheek and inspired the same in her. She felt her every muscle relax under the heat of the water.
"Don't fall asleep or I'll have to spend the night in here," he warned, his own eyes beginning to close. "We've ascertained many times that I'm too weak to pick you up."
"Not for lack of trying," she returned, and she enjoyed the rumble of his shallow laugh against her ear.
"Surprised I was even able to make the progress I did in the garden. I haven't worked that hard physically in quite some time."
"As I always used to tell you, physical activity is important. Not for strength as much as keeping your body in order."
He shifted slightly beneath her. "It feels good, using my body. Counteracting some of that inactivity from the days of my curse. Though I was far more efficient at weeding back when a simple touch could eradicate them."
"True," she admitted. "Though if you ask me, you're much more suited to giving life than taking it."
"Agreed," he said with a soft embrace. They spent a quiet moment resting against each other, letting only the drip of the faucet and small sounds of the lapping water break the silence. Alice allowed her mind to linger on his words, then wondered if she'd been wise to do so. Judging by the heavy blanket of unease that had suddenly smothered them, she guessed he was doing the same.
A familiar but unpleasant numbing, tingling creep of emotion welled up at the base of her throat, and she found herself struggling to fight it back.
"Should we..." she began cautiously, and his body tensed beneath her. "Should we discuss it again? Has it been enough time?"
He breathed in deeply once more, this time in an attempt to ride a cresting wave of emotion. "That is entirely up to you, Alice. I'm here to talk whenever you want to. Or not, if that is what you prefer."
"The doctor said it wasn't uncommon, that it shouldn't stand in our way."
"The doctor," he shot back with a dose of contempt, "was not a terribly empathetic man."
"No," she agreed softly. "But with female complaints, it's to be expected."
He curled himself slightly around her, acting upon a subconscious desire to protect. She nuzzled her face further into his chest. "My mother has been, at least. I know she wants grand-babies, but still. She's shown me nothing but understanding."
"For that, I will forever be grateful to Sharon."
She smiled at her husband's kind words. "How about your mother?"
"As I'm legally separated from the family, I'm not sure she'd notice either way." He moved to rest his head on his fist, propping his elbow on the side of the tub. "In terms of birthing a successor, Walter and Daleth have fulfilled that obligation already, so I'm sure she's put that issue to rest for the most part. And as much as my disinheritance has caused us to struggle, I wouldn't trade it for the pressures they face."
"Yes, it does give us more freedom. Though I'm sure she still has expectations."
"I'm not the least bit concerned about that," Viktor affirmed. "The decision rests entirely with you."
"Well, both of us," she corrected.
"Not exactly," he countered, his expression clouded by thought. He allowed his eyes to trace the wood paneling at the far side of the room, working to keep his emotions steady. "I will be quite honest with you. I've already gained more from my life than I ever thought possible, and it is completely because of your presence and influence. If I spend the rest of my days with only you by my side, I will consider myself blessed beyond belief."
She blinked in surprise, glancing up at him. "You've changed your mind?"
"I want to see you healthy and fulfilled more than anything else."
"You...you won't resent me?" she questioned, her voice wavering slightly. "Even if my decision..."
"No." He met her gaze. The amount of conviction in his voice surprised her somewhat, and he took a moment to compose himself. When he began again, it was with a deliberate softness. "Alice, you were tasked with caring for an entire household of cousins for most of your childhood. You've mothered me since our adolescence, at a time when more traditional sources of feminine love were unavailable to me. How could I possibly resent your decision when you've already given so much of yourself?"
She tightened her embrace around him, blinking her watering eyes. "I'll still mother you, you know," she whispered with a small smile. "That will never change." He laughed and returned her pressure.
"Good, because I'm not sure I'll ever grow out of needing it. Hopeless fool that I am."
She paused, allowing his words to sink in. "You and Rob, too. I never knew my father, and my uncle was all but absent. I had no real example of the masculine before coming to the villa. I am incredibly fortunate I was taken in by such kind, pure souls. Things could have turned out very differently for me otherwise." She lowered her ear back to his chest. "I simply wonder if our skills should be put to further use."
"I have not a single doubt in my mind you would make a phenomenal mother," he returned, stroking her hair. "But skill does not lead to obligation."
She closed her eyes, savoring the comforting feeling of his fingers gently untangling her hair. "I think my answer will ultimately be yes. But I may need some time. This has all been more complex than I expected, and I'm not sure how to feel."
"You will have every bit of time you desire," he pledged softly, kissing the top of her head.
An immediate, primal surge of anxiety billowed from her stomach, and she considered pushing it down. It issued from her lips before she had the opportunity to do so.
"I'm scared, Viktor," she whispered. "To try again."
His inhale took on a shuddering quality. "I know." He brought a hand to her chin and lifted it gently, his glassy eyes meeting hers. "I can make no guarantees, though I'd give anything to do so. But I can promise you this—it has been, and always will be you, Alice. I will love whomever we may add to our family with all my heart. But my first and greatest love will always be you. And I'll be here, present alongside you, to guard your heart with mine for the rest of our days together."
At his words, she allowed several tears to fall, silently mingling with the water in their bath. She lowered her ear to his chest once more to follow the pattering of his heartbeat until it gradually returned to a normal rhythm. They relished their mutual contact, soothed by the shared warmth and stability of their bodies, until they both began to drift off together.
An abrupt call from the hallway jolted them awake. They exchanged sheepish laughs as they exited the bath, quickly dressing to meet Rob in the kitchen for dinner.
Alice spied Viktor and Rob sitting under the shade of the crabapple tree, engaged in pleasant conversation. She removed her shoes, wiggling her toes in the sun-warmed grass, then made her way across the lawn towards the pair. Rob immediately extinguished his cigarette as she approached.
"Alice," Viktor greeted warmly as he glanced up. He opened his arms to her and she lowered herself in front of him, resting her back against his chest. He enfolded her in a gentle hug from behind.
"Taking a break?" she inquired curiously.
"In a way," he smiled. "I somehow forgot how tiring all this tilling can be. You'd think I'd remember the struggle from last year." He stroked her arm tenderly. "How are you feeling?"
"A bit peaky," she admitted with a smile. "Trying not to think about it."
He squeezed her lovingly. "Then help us with our pursuits instead."
She glanced around them, quickly realizing they had surrounded themselves with handfuls of small purple-blue flowers. She picked one up and studied it between her fingertips.
"What in the world are you two doing?"
"Chatting, mostly," Viktor admitted, inspecting a flower himself. "But since Rob has been teaching me so much about gardening, I thought I'd teach him one of the only skills I have in return." He grasped something at his side and brought it to her field of vision.
"A daisy chain?"
"Close," he responded. "Remember what I made you at the villa conservatory?"
A sudden giddy warmth overcame her. "Of course. I still keep it in my drawer, you know."
Her husband completed his chain of flowers, then fastened both ends into a circle. He leaned forward, propping her up, then brought the crown of flowers to her head.
"The Queen of Spring," he announced with mock formality, and she giggled.
"As you are the only candidate present, you must endure being crowned twice over," Rob chuckled. He completed his chain and added it on top of Viktor's. She beamed back in response, patting her new headpiece.
"I will rule judiciously," she promised amusedly. She brought a flower to her nose and inhaled its delicate scent. Her attention was immediately diverted by a flutter of activity in the tree above them.
"Mama robin is back again this year," she pointed out with a grin. The small orange-breasted bird hopped determinedly from branch to branch, a collection of twigs and dried grass in her beak.
"So she is," Rob noted. He followed her movements with his single uncovered eye. "And she's busy building once again."
Alice felt a peculiar flutter from deep in her stomach, something like the movements of a swallowed goldfish. Anxiousness, she suspected. Or something more. It was still too early to differentiate between the two.
"She'll be busy for some time," she said. "Soon she'll have another full nest." Her words faded, a distant, wistful quality to them. As she watched, her vague longing sharpened into something far more overwhelming—a wave of emotion that threatened to overtake her completely. Her husband noticed, and his embrace tightened consolingly.
"She won't forget, though," he reassured softly. "The egg. She'll keep it with her, always."
Alice finally released the reins of her grief and allowed it to crest and crash, burying her face into her husband's shoulder with soft sobs. He held her close, rocking gently with her sighs. The two men remained committed, silent by her side, until her every tear was spent.