Love & Sex in a Minefield by Jean Austin

Author:Jean Austin [Austin, Jean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-02-05T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 08: Moonlight

Night falls.

We finish dinner and Branka lights a fire in the hearth. Lanterns flicker throughout the house. Outside, I can still hear the celebration in the marketplace. There’s singing, the occasional yelling, and sporadic gun fire, but I’ve come to think of that as nothing more than cheap fireworks—no fancy flashes of light or sparks of color, just an explosion of noise.

“They will celebrate late into the night,” Branka says, seeing me staring out the window as I dry the dishes. “They’re calling it a miracle.”

“It was,” I say.

“St. Augustine has blessed us.”

I’m not so sure about that, but whatever. It’s been five hours since the rescue, and still my hands are shaking. I’m jacked up on adrenaline, but with no outlet. I feel as though I could run a mile without breaking a sweat. Jimmy’s sitting in the lounge reading a book to his sister. Jilly leans against him with her eyes fluttering, on the verge of falling asleep.

There’s a knock at the door. Almost instantaneously, I say, “I’ll get it.” I can’t move fast enough. I throw the door open. Anton stands before me in traditional Bosnian clothing—a white ruffled shirt, with an open black waistcoat, pitch black slacks and a bright red cummerbund wrapped around his waist. His face is clean, while his hair has been slicked back and to one side.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” I reply, unsure what the proper protocol is when addressing the man that saved the life of your son. “Please. Come in.”

“The boy—Jimmy James. How is he?”

Jimmy comes running from the lounge. Anton crouches, hugging Jimmy as he throws his arms around his neck. Anton stands, lifting Jimmy off the ground and turning him around, swinging him through a full circle, saying, “Ah, there he is. The big man. The brave man.”

“You’re brave,” Jimmy says, looking at Anton with admiration.

“There’s a thin line between bravery and stupidity,” Anton says, laughing as he puts him down. “But yes, we are both brave. And the girl? Your daughter? She’s okay?”

Jilly was never in any danger, but I appreciate him asking after her. Jilly pokes her head around the corner and waves.

“Come. Come,” Branka says. “We have much to talk about. Come.”

Anton steps forward, tripping on the carpet, but catching himself against the kitchen bench top. He’s a little tipsy. Drunk would be a more apt term, but he’s not drunk in the Western sense of the word. More liberated than inebriated.

“And you?” he asks.

“I’m good,” I say, grinning, unable to suppress my delight in seeing him again.

“Coffee?” Branka asks.

“Yes,” Anton replies, ruffling Jimmy’s hair.

“Okay, kids. It’s time for bed.”

“But Anton just got here,” Jimmy complains.

“Yes, he did. But it’s been a long day. We’ve had more than enough adventure for one day, don’t you think? With castles and minefields. Come on.”

“Oh, Mom,” Jimmy says, exasperated.

“I’ll be right back,” I say, leading Jimmy and Jilly upstairs. Normally, we have a whole routine we go through at bedtime. Bathroom, brushing teeth, brushing knots out of Jilly’s hair, reading a book, or two (if the kids have their way).

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