A House with a Yellow Kitchen
Chapter 15 - A House with a Yellow Kitchen
They chose a house on a quiet street north of the city. It had a yellow kitchen, a worn wooden porch, and a backyard large enough for a vegetable garden. Salvatore kept professional security appropriate to their circumstances, but he refused to turn the house into another fortress.
Nicholas chose his own room. He put the stuffed fox on the windowsill and asked Marisol to help hang paper stars above his bed. Ruth visited one afternoon after the therapist approved it. She brought the cardboard medal Nicholas had given her. He examined it and grinned.
“You kept it?”
“Of course. It was an important award.”
He hugged her carefully, his cast now removed but his confidence still healing.
Marisol began teaching Salvatore how to make Elena's orange cake. The first attempt sank in the middle. Nicholas declared it a volcano and ate two slices. The second was better. By the third, Salvatore had learned that baking was less about commanding ingredients than noticing what they needed.
One night a thunderstorm woke Nicholas. He ran to Salvatore's room, stopped at the doorway, and asked permission to enter. Salvatore welcomed him without making him explain the fear.
They sat together while rain struck the windows. Nicholas asked whether the people investigating Vanessa could make every bad thing disappear.
“No,” Salvatore answered gently. “But they can work to keep people safe and hold adults responsible. And we can make this a home where you can tell the truth.”
Nicholas leaned against him. “Can we still be happy even if Mommy Elena doesn't come back?”
“Yes,” Salvatore whispered. “Missing her and being happy can happen at the same time.”
May you like
The boy looked toward the kitchen where a nightlight glowed. “Then I think I am a little happy.”
Salvatore held him and waited for the thunder to pass.
