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Amy’s Point Of View
By morning, our house was full of family. While lying in bed, I heard shuffling feet upstairs, more outside in the corridors, and bedroom doors opened and shut carefully to avoid waking others.
I slipped out of bed, leaving my husband sleeping, donning his bathrobe, and rolling up the sleeves because I couldn’t find mine. On my way downstairs, the aroma of freshly baked goods, friendly banter, and chatter wafted to greet me, and I instantly felt happy.
When I reached the bottom stair, Emma passed by, grinning like the cat who got the cream before ducking through a nearby door leading into an extensive basement where household storage was throwing up new gems by the day.
When I arrived in our kitchen, I gratefully accepted a freshly made decaffeinated cappuccino sprinkled with Olympic rings. It was as if Diana had installed motion detection sensors on our bedroom door.
Diana smiled, and I nodded enthusiastically when she pointed to one of a dozen freshly baked croissants cooling on a wire rack.
While they sat on wooden stools at the kitchen bar, I kissed my father and mother-in-law and bid them good morning, pausing momentarily to giggle before turning away. Rather than join others, I preferred to find a comfortable place among the many sofas and chairs nearby where I could sit peacefully to enjoy a solitary breakfast.
Katerina’s hand gently gripped my wrist, and I was denied an escape. A master reader of body language and lie detector was to hold me accountable for my private joy. I turned again and saw that my mother-in-law had lined me up for questioning with a laser-pointed gaze.
“What is it, Amy? You cannot laugh like a naughty schoolgirl and then walk away from your parents.”
“Sorry, Mom, but an interesting thought has struck me.”
“Won’t you share?”
It wasn’t a request, so I giggled some more while hopping onto a kitchen stool separating my father from Katerina. Without even looking, Dad lazily wrapped an arm around my shoulder while continuing to read a lifestyle magazine on his tablet.
I grinned at my mother-in-law, and even though I had initially intended to eat alone, I couldn’t wait to break away and picked the curvaceous, butter-crisp topmost layer off my croissant, treating my mouth to a culinary orgasm.
“You are my mother-in-law, right, Mom?”
“Yes, and a very privileged one at that, my dear, what’s your point?”
Katerina looked curious, almost to bursting point, and I enjoyed my little tease. I paused to glance down when Michelangelo rubbed his cheek against my bare feet.
“Hello, little one. Did you arrive home from a late night out?”
“Michelangelo came here for breakfast. My cat instinctively knows when mealtimes reach the optimum moment for delicious scraps to become available.”
Michelangelo purred loudly and stared up with dark, bottomless eyes that held the secrets of every female minx for at least a block. By the end of the week, his roving range would double and then some more until his harem was complete.
“Come, little one… enjoy some bacon.”