“Oh, yes, chickens, you know? Chasing dogs. Happens every day around here. Dirty legs, too. That’s why we have the bath, you know? Not for the chicken, of course. Who’d bathe a chicken? I killed one once, felt very sorry about it.” I forced a laugh that made me sound as mad as I seemed. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Tea anyone?” I could feel my face burning. Where the hell was Oliver?

“We’d love some tea.” Edmond pretended not to notice a bra I had hung on the back of a chair to dry and a box of Tampax sitting beside the breadbox. He mercifully ignored a bottle of self-heating sex oil set in the middle of the kitchen table as if it were a vase of daffodils as well. If he knew what we’d done on that table he wouldn’t have been so keen on sitting down for tea.

I picked up the bra, tossed it into the sink and shoved the Tampax into a cabinet, grabbed the oil and threw it into an open bag of dog food, then spun, faced them and smiled too widely, “And what brings you two out to the wood?”

“We came to congratulate Oliver on his success. Where is he?”

“Oh, he’s…” I peered out the window, “Outside…somewhere.”

“Did we come at a bad time?”

“Never a bad time, Dad!” It was Oliver who said it. He burst through the door as if he were a grand sultan. I stared at him in horror. The jeans he was wearing were obviously unbuttoned, only coming halfway up the pelvis, the front and back were covered by tea towels like a loincloth pulled through the belt loops. The legs of them clung tightly to the middle of his calf. He was almost waddling.

He looked at me with a smile that positively beamed. He was enjoying every second of this nightmare. He tried to act proper as a clump of dried dirt fell from the side of his head and hit his shoulder.

“What on Earth are you wearing?” Edmond demanded. Ana just stared at him with a combination of shock and amusement.

“Oh, these? These are Sil’s, of course! Sometimes she gains a pound or two and her clothes get a little snug, so I put them on and go walking around. Gives me another opportunity to get into her jeans, if you know what I mean,” He winked at his dad, and then scratched his bare chest, casually tossing some debris on to the floor. “Right! I’ll have to go find a pair of my own now. Silvia, do tell me, did you happen to see any of mine lying about?”

I set the teapot on the stove and excused us.

“I think they’ve been alone here too long, Dear,” We heard Ana mumble just as we shut the bedroom door.

“I think we’ve interrupted something we don’t quite understand.” Edmond added. “And I’m sure we don’t want to, either!”

We burst into the loudest fit of laughter we had managed yet that day. And, worse yet, we could not stop.

“I’ll get the tea ready while you two get cleaned up and dressed,” Ana called back to us,

“Take your time!”

We lay on the bed and laughed,. “I wish they’d leave,” Oliver winced, holding a stitch in his side as he struggled to peel off my jeans.

“We’ve got to go out there.”

“No, leave them. Maybe they’ll have their tea and go.”

“Oliver, you are positively evil!”

He gave me that grin. Oh, I loved that grin. It was pure, unadulterated mischief, “I’ll show you how evil I am when they’re gone!”

“Promise?”

He stood up and pulled on a pair of his own trousers, “Promise.”

We got dressed then and did our best to compose ourselves as we went to entertain our unexpected guests, but it wasn’t easy. Every little thing that day was hysterically funny, from Oliver re-explaining his master plan for snagging an old man’s medical practice to his father telling us about a mummy coming into the museum from Cairo that was dropped down the steps. We laughed especially hard when Edmond said that Alexander was finally all grown up.

After they’d left, Oliver and I sat out in the garden by the big tree. It had cooled off and gotten windy, but it was a perfect late afternoon to just sit and be close. So we did, just sat and enjoyed the familiarity of each other.

“I think we were very rude to your parents,” I told him.

“If we were it’s because of the way they raised me,” He said flatly, shooing Duncan, who was having a jealous moment.

“Do you think that Alexander is seriously grown up just because he had a baby?”

“I suppose he is, yes. I suppose he thinks he has to grow up like everybody else. He’s full of nothing but piss anymore.” He gave the dog another nudge.

“Well, we never have grown up. Look at how we behaved today.”

“You don’t have to be dead to be grown up, Love. Look at my parents. They’re all grown up, yeah? Dad works, comes home, and says, “Hello, Dear!” Sits on his fat arse and eats his pudding, then he says, “Good night, Dear!” and gets into his bed by nine and goes straight to sleep. And my mum, she’s cleaned that house so often it doesn’t even get dirty anymore. She doesn’t have much else to do so she watches ladies programmes all day. She’s bored shitless. That’s no life, is it?”

“No, I wouldn’t think so.”

“I’m a doctor now, Silvia, and from what I’ve been told a pretty good one,” He was looking straight ahead, watching the wind, “Yet I’m still running around like an imbecile tossing dirt clods and laughing like a twelve year old. I don’t ever want to come home and say, “Hello, Dear”, eat pudding and go to bed. I want to come home, say, “Hello, Dear,” eat my pudding off your beautiful body and go to bed with you all sticky in my arms. If growing up means we have to be like my parents, sod it all. I’ll stay a jackass forever.”

“Do you think we keep each other from growing up?” I stroked Duncan’s fur. He had realized Oliver as not going to allow him space between us and surrendered, lying by my side instead.

“I think we keep each other entertained and amused and that’s what keeps us from being like them. I think we’re content, not immature. There’s a difference between being immature and acting silly.”

I turned and studied his face for a moment before I spoke. I loved looking at his face, especially looking into his eyes. If you look closely enough at anybody's eyes you can see the light of God and that light was bright in Oliver. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes, Love. Anything,” He had so much kindness stored in those eyes. You could actually feel it on your skin, like he could envelope you and draw you into a safe place. My God, how I loved that man.

“Do you remember the worst thing that ever happened to us?”

“Of course I do. How could I forget?”

“Well, I’ve been wanting to show you something,” I reached into my pocket, “I bought two of these a week ago. One for me and one for you and two to be sure and they both have these cute little plus signs on them.”

Oliver took the plastic stick from my hand. “Oh, Silvia!”

I laughed, watching the smile spread across his face.

“We’re almost through our first trimester! I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was so scared something would happen and go wrong again and I wanted to see the doctor first to make sure the baby was all right. She says everything is fine!”

“Oh, Silvia!” He threw his arms around me and squeezed me tight, “And me tossing you through a window! Shame on me! Silvia! Silvia!” He rocked me and kissed my neck, “A wee little muffin! A baby for us, Silvia! Now we’ll have somebody else to throw dirt at! We’ll have to invite mum and dad back out to watch!”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Every moment of your life is a gift. In the end when you are old and all your friends and family have died or have gone away and your bones ache every second, if you are lucky, you still have your memories. And what are memories if not moments locked away in your head and in your heart? They’re like little sparkling treasures in a box waiting for the lid to be lifted so the light can shine upon them once more. I like to open that box. I adore my memories. When I am dead and gone everything I owned will survive me. But I will take my memories with me. At least the ones I didn’t pass down. The ones I did hopefully will become the treasures of those I chose to tell.