Eiry was busy washing dishes on a bright Saturday morning, humming a tune as spring sunlight streamed promisingly through the windows into the kitchen. Alta’s little bowl still had drippings of yolk in it from their poached eggs, though all the bacon and rice was gone.
“What are we doing today, ana?” the child asked from the doorway. She’d changed her clothes again into a shift-like dress with a watercolor flower pattern on it.
“Well, once we’re finished packing, we’re going to go to the Inn.”
“Yes, and we’re going to help in the gardens a bit.”
“Are they pretty now?”
“Yes, they are. Do you know where your bag is?”
“On the chair.”
“Why don’t you go pack it, sweetie.”
Eiry finished up the last of the dishes, leaving them in the rack to dry and cleaning up the counter. Then she went to pack up some of Alta’s toys, books, and diaper bag before checking on her. She could hear her, though, singing the song she’d been humming earlier. She hadn’t realized she knew the words.
“Do I think the words when I hum, apa?”
“Mhm! Every time,” she said with a smile. “It’s pretty. Is this okay?” She held open the bag, in which she’d put her favorite best dress and about five shifts.
“Yes, but if you wear the dress you can’t play rough.”
“Ok. Do we need to pack for daddy?”
“No, he has his things.”
“Okay…so we can go?”
“I think so.”
Once they had everything and Eiry had locked the door. Alta reached for her hand as they headed toward the elevator. “Can we sing it together?”
Alta launched right into it, her voice soft and light. Eiry’d stopped wondering by now where that voice had come from, and sang so as not to overpower it. Guyver’d always said they sounded very pretty together, and that mattered far more.