“No wonder I was so shocked the day I met you when you opened up your mouth and that pretentious accent came out,” she remarked, patting his cheek affectionately. Initially, that had been her impression, part of what got her into the mindset that he was a smarmy Frenchman whose only goal in life was to aggravate her. “Who'd've thought it would eventually become one of my favorite things about you? I imagine she'll love learning about French culture from you. I know I do.” Leah would help, of course, but she was still learning herself.
“Stop giving me that excuse,” Leah scolded, a chuckle in her voice. “You should've learned by now to take advantage when I'm being so agreeable. I like your choices. They click into place better than mine do.” Her thoughts had followed his a few different times over the past several months. The issue of the last name. “What about her last name? Do we go with one or the other, or do we hyphenate?” Did it matter, was basically what she was asking. “I blame the people I associate with for turning me into a cheeseball. Not my fault,” she said, rolling her eyes looking at him pointedly.
It was a conversation on par with ones they had with Marigold; a break from the seriousness that seemed to be taking Evan's mind off whatever worries were plaguing him. If that's what it took, she'd happily comply. “The only thing I picture when it comes to gargling lava is people turning into dragons and breathing fire. With lava, it'd probably be really hot air, so it might just melt everything it came in contact with.” His observation of Sing Sing made her smirk. “Pretty much.”
Evan's act made her laugh. “This is your life, and you're stuck with it. So there.” Her words were punctuated with a squeeze of his shoulder, a half-hug. “She did. She has some brains underneath all this blonde hair. Enough to see through your wily ways.” Glancing down, she smiled and smoothed her hand over her belly. “Unfortunately, it takes her a while to figure it out, and by that time it's too late to try to foil your plans., so you win after all.”
“A glance at a pair of twins could've told you that study was BS. Lilah and I shared a room for years and we're nothing alike. The Marchands do have the reclusive trait in common, though.” Daniel hid himself away most of the time, and it seemed George was doing the same lately, too. She wondered if there was a specific reason for the latter. “No. If Eveline were real, she'd be sleeping in someone else's bed right now, probably not even thinking about me.” It had been so long since she'd even seen Costanzo, that she'd almost forgotten about the rumor incident. Maybe that was a good thing. Everyone else had already forgotten, too.
She raised up to kiss his forehead. “Talking about other things seems to help, doesn't it? You're joking with me and the laughter doesn't sound forced.” It was a strong enough worry to disrupt his sleep, though.
Leah lamented the waning warmth when Evan got out of bed, but after a moment, she scooted to the edge of her side of the mattress and pushed herself into a standing position. “I wouldn't say it's your job, but the gestures are nice.” She stepped into her slippers and glanced over at Marigold's side of the room to make sure they hadn't woken her. “And more and more necessary as the months go by,” she said with a little chuckle. “I'll set everything up for you so it'll be ready when you get back.” She could do that much, at least.