Household Gods

But first, there was a thing she had to do. She looked toward the night-stand. Yes, there it was: the plaque dedicated to Liber and Libera. It was the one Brigomarus had given her in Carnuntum. She recognized the ding in the upper right corner, and the tilt of Libera’s head toward her consort. Even worn and stained by all the centuries, it was unmistakably the same.

That same wearing and staining made her shiver a bit. So much time had passed. Every human being she’d known in that other world was centuries dead. Their city was a ruin or an archeological dig, their lives the concern of scholars. Regular people, people like Nicole herself, never gave them a moment’s thought.

She brushed a finger across the carven faces. She was almost afraid to feel the brush of tiny lips, the shock of electricity as they woke, but they remained cool, stony, still. She’d get a bottle of wine later, so she could properly thank them for sending her home again. I may even taste some, she thought. I really may.

Frank and Dawn had put fresh sheets on the bed, for which Nicole was duly grateful. They were the beige ones that had been a wedding present – from one of Frank’s cousins, who was a beige-sheet person if Nicole had ever seen one. She stripped them off and dumped them over Kimberley and Justin. The kids giggled madly. “I’m a ghost!” Kimberley declared.

“Ghost!” Justin agreed heartily.

While they ran around flapping and booing at one another, Nicole remade the bed with a vivid ocean print. The kids liked it. They abandoned their game to help put on the new bedclothes. Between the two of them, they were about as much help as a cat.

While the sheets Frank and Dawn had used were in the dryer, and while the kids were occupied with a stack of coloring books, Nicole put in a call to the office. Cyndi was almost as glad to hear from her as she’d been the day before. “I’ve got your check here, Ms. Gunther-Perrin,” she said. “I didn’t know what to do with it while you were, uh, out. “

“ ‘Out’ is right,” Nicole said. “Save it for me, why don’t you? I’m calling from home; I expect to be back Monday, to start getting out from under whatever’s waiting for me. Doctor wants to see me next week, but nobody’s going to keep me from doing what needs doing.”

“That’s all good news,” Cyndi said, and she sounded as if she meant it. “I’ll be glad to see you then, Ms. Gunther-Perrin.” She hadn’t had to say that. It made Nicole feel good that she had. It was nice, no, more than nice, to be appreciated.

The day went smoothly, no fights, no annoying phone calls, just the quiet pleasure of a day at home with her own – her very own – two kids. They didn’t mind being grabbed and hugged at random intervals, and they certainly didn’t mind that she had the time or the stamina to sit and play with them by the hour.

In the late afternoon, after Justin’s nap, Kimberley cracked. She’d been too good for too long. She started teasing him, teasing and teasing, determined to keep at it till she had him in a screaming tantrum.

“Knock it off,” Nicole said sharply. Kimberley obeyed for a minute, but most of the way through the second minute, she was at it again.

“I said,” Nicole said more pointedly, “knock. It. Off.”

Kimberley kept right on going – with a glance at Nicole that invited Nicole to do something about it. Nicole was delighted to oblige. She was beside her in two long strides. Before Kimberley knew what was happening, Nicole had swatted her on the fanny.

It wasn’t anywhere near as hard a whack as she’d often had to administer to Lucius – he’d required a wallop just to get his attention. It wasn’t even hard enough to make Kimberley cry. She stared, open-mouthed, too astonished to say a word.

“When I tell you to stop something,” Nicole said evenly, “I expect you to stop it. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Kimberley said in a subdued voice. Nicole knew an instant’s guilt, but she hardened herself against it. If there was one thing she’d learned in Carnuntum, it was that kids needed understanding – but they also, occasionally, needed the application of palm of hand to seat of pants.

Kimberley wasn’t cured of het habit of teasing Justin. That would take a miracle. Fifteen minutes, an hour at most, and she’d be back at it. Still, she was a good kid. She wouldn’t need too many lessons. Justin, now – Well, Justin was only two. Maybe, when he got to Lucius’ age, she wouldn’t have to correct him with a two-by-four. Maybe.

Life settled to a routine that was wonderful in its very dullness. Get up, shower (oh, that delicious hot water!), get kids up, get kids dressed, feed breakfast, and so on through the day. Sometimes she went to the supermarket – which was an experience in itself. So many things to buy. So much to take home in her car, as much as she could use. And no haggling over prices; though the price of lettuce was downright near gouging, and chicken had gone through the roof. She’d have haggled over that if she could.