Last night I woke up in the middle of the night, thinking of it as the evening back at home, and I missed my girls so very much, missed them so terribly that I cried great big heaving sobs. Laying in the sticky London night on a hard mattress, curled up against Paul's sleeping body dressed in two layers including a wool sweater, the cool air wafting in through the street, accompanied by the sounds of laughter from the sidewalk below. I cried and I cried because I was a world and five time zones away from my babies, and I worried that they might need me while I realized how much I need them.
Suddenly, a week seemed a very long time to be away from my two sweet girls, and I wanted to be at home with them. In our boring little valley town of Dundas, in our own sticky night, to be curled up against Paul's sleeping body with Addison Blue in turn curled up against me, and the sounds of Summer Lily's feet shuffling down the hall, accompanied by the loud rush of the toilet flushing and her shadow cast on the wall.