12. Eleven
Eleven
Sienna
A lthough my mind feels sharp and well-rested, my body tells an entirely different story. Every muscle aches, and soreness accompanies every movement I make. In my current physical state, I feel far from ready to keep up with two small children, but I don’t have any other choice. Fabrizio’s words echo in my ears. He expects me to be on my best behavior, whatever that even means.
The house is cloaked in silence as I quietly pad downstairs, my target clear in my mind—coffee. The soft hum of the machine brewing a cup of liquid energy gives me hope of achieving the level of vitality need to keep up with two energetic five-year-olds. As the aroma of coffee fills the air, I begin my usual morning ritual of going through my plans for the day. Despite this being far from an ordinary morning with circumstances vastly different from the usual, I find solace in sticking to my routine. Fabrizio made it abundantly clear that he wants the twins to continue their lives as normally as possible, which means adhering to their usual schedule. I gather all the necessary ingredients on the counter, pulling out a bowl and cracking eggs into it. As the eggs fry in the pan, I chop fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and bell peppers, arranging them neatly on plates. When breakfast is ready, I decide it’s time to wake the twins, but the sound of their small feet pattering towards me signals they’re already up.
“Good morning, you two,” I greet them warmly.
“Morning. I’m hungry,” Maddy states, already brimming with energy, while her brother stands beside her, rubbing his still-tired eyes.
“Well, good thing breakfast is ready,” I say with a smile.
The rest of the morning passes quickly, focused entirely on the children’s education. To my pleasant surprise, homeschooling Maddy and Flynn is easier than expected. Even Flynn, who is usually withdrawn at school, is highly responsive to my lessons, soaking up every word and engaging far more than I am used to. My heart aches as I realize I’ve never seen him so relaxed. In just a few days, I’ve seen him smile more often than in the last two years combined. It’s a sad realization of how much their young lives are affected by their father’s job . I wonder if they will ever lead a normal life.
After a quick lunch, I plan to take the kids outside for some fresh air and playtime, a chance for them to expend their energy. However, thick dark clouds and a sudden rain shower thwart my plans.
Instead, I decide to treat them to a movie. Maddy and Flynn are already cuddled up on the couch under a huge fluffy blanket when I put on the film. They have chosen Lady and the Tramp. A smile comes to my face as the movie starts; it was one of my favorites as a child, too. As the first scene plays, I turn on my heels to return to the kitchen.
“Aren’t you gonna watch it with us?” Maddy asks. “No, sweetheart, I still have some work to do. But if you need something, I’m just in the kitchen,” I reply.
I notice Vance hulking in the doorframe. His face is as stoic as ever, though his features seem slightly softer than when I first met him. This might be due to the children’s presence, though they hardly interact with him, simply acting as if he isn’t there. Another oddity in their lives is being surrounded by men carrying a significant amount of firepower. But now that I think about it, I realize that none of their weapons are visible when they are in the house. Wordlessly, I push past Vance and make my way to the kitchen, realizing that I have hardly seen the other one, Oliver, the whole day. He seems very wary of me, most likely keeping his distance.
When I finish cleaning the kitchen and see the amount of leftovers, I decide to offer to feed Fabrizio’s men. It seems like a decent thing to do. Stepping outside the kitchen, I find Vance and Oliver standing together in the foyer, chatting and snickering. Oliver is the first to see me, his posture immediately stiffening as he turns his head toward me.
“Are you guys hungry?” I ask. The two men exchange a quick look. “Or does your boss not allow any breaks while you’re on hostage-sitting duty?” I add with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.
Vance chuckles while Oliver rolls his eyes as they follow me into the kitchen. A thick silence falls between us as I place two bowls of pasta with fresh vegetables in front of them.
“Smells good,” Vance mumbles into the bowl before shoving a fork full of noodles into his mouth. Oliver curtly nods in agreement before doing the same, and soon the silence is replaced by the clatter of cutlery against the ceramic bowls.
My eyes dart between the two men. Watching them doing something as mundane as eating makes them appear softer than their gruff exterior and their usually menacing demeanor.
“Thank you, that was the best or rather the first home-cooked meal I’ve had in quite a while,” Vance admits, his voice carrying a hint of sincere gratitude that surprises me. I seize an opening for all the questions that race through my mind, though I am not sure if I would even want them answered.
“I suppose your job doesn’t exactly give you a lot of opportunities for cozy meals with your families,” the words slip out before I can stop them.
“Not really,” Vance says with a shrug while Oliver chews on the last pieces of his lunch.
I decide to push my luck. “Must be difficult, always being on edge, always being watching out for—”
“That’s just the way it is,” Oliver interrupts me. ”And it’s a lot better than most of the alternatives.”
“I somehow find that hard to believe, especially with a boss who’s that… particular.” I lean back against the kitchen counter, crossing my arms casually.
“It’s not that simple,” He states.
“You know he is not as bad as you think he is. Actually, he’s been—” Vance starts to speak but Oliver clears his throat and I catch the fleeting glance exchanged between the two men, a silent exchange that speaks volumes more than anything they could say. And at the same time, it seems to be a reminder from one man to the other of the rules and duties they live by.
Oliver taps his finger on the kitchen counter, his eyes boring into mine before he says, “Well, thanks again for the food.”
He gets up and turns to leave the kitchen with the other man following his silent command.
The room falls silent again, and as I begin to clean the kitchen, I can't help but wonder about the lives they lead when they're not here, standing guard over someone they barely know.
The rest of the day passes quickly, especially since we spend the whole afternoon playing. Their positive energy leaves me in a gleeful mood, making me momentarily forget about the circumstances that brought me into their lives. I don’t realize just how tired I am until reading Maddy’s bedtime story nearly puts me to sleep too.