Alynwa's Mind: It's Crazy in There

Illya awoke from a nap on the living room couch to the sounds of Napoleon and Leona Nicole chattering happily on the terrace and the scent of hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.  He continued to lie there for a few minutes more so he could listen to Napoleon attempting to explain the 4^th of July to a three year old.

“Today is America’s birthday, so we celebrate by cooking outside.  Hot dogs are traditional July 4^th food.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re easy to cook on the grill; just like hamburgers.”

The little girl was quiet for a minute and then she asked, “We would be outside in the rain, too?”

Napoleon laughed, “No, we would stay inside, but we would still eat hot dogs.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what Americans eat on the 4^th.  And later on tonight, Papa and I will let you stay up late to watch the fireworks.”

“What are fireworks, Daddy?”

“Fireworks are, ah, well…Fireworks are lights in the sky that are a bunch of pretty colors that make different shapes and a lot of noise.”

“Is it scary?”

“No, it’s exciting.”

Illya came off the couch and walked out onto the terrace.  When Napoleon bought the penthouse next door, part of the renovations had been to remove the wall that separated the two terraces to create one large terrace that wrapped around the entire apartment.  He sat down at the table and held his arms open so that Leona ran to him for a hug.  “I could hear some of your conversation.  We will be able to see the fireworks from right here.  There will be fireworks over the East River.  Is the food ready now?  I am very hungry.”

Napoleon smiled broadly and handed Illya a plate with a burger on it.  There were condiments and side dishes already on the table.  He leaned down to whisper in his daughter’s ear, “Your Papa’s always hungry; never forget that.”

Leona giggled and snuggled closer to her Papa.  He kept one arm around her while using his other hand to eat.  “Papa, did you know it’s our birthday?”

Putting his burger down to wipe his mouth, he answered, “If you mean it is the 4^th of July, yes, I do know.  I am Russian so it is not my country’s birthday, but it is Daddy’s so that is why there are hot dogs and hamburgers on the grill.”

That caused Leona to frown as she thought about what she had been told.  Meanwhile, Napoleon put a plate with a hot dog cut in half lengthwise and then across into manageable pieces for her and then put relish and catsup on it for her.  Illya turned her around so she faced the table.  “Daddy, Papa can’t have birthday cake?”

Illya perked up.  “There is cake?”

“Not birthday cake; we have cupcakes with red, white and blue icing,” Napoleon replied, “and Papa can eat cake if he wants.”

“Good, Daddy!  Can I eat one now?”

“What, Sweetie?”

“May I have a cupcake now, Daddy?”

“After you eat your hot dog and some veggies.  I grilled those, too.  When you’ve finished eating, it will be time for your nap so that you can be awake for the fireworks.”

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Nine twenty that evening found the two men and their daughter sitting on their terrace overlooking the East River.  Napoleon had put his radio in one of the windows facing the terrace so that they could listen to the patriotic songs that play during the display.  As the fireworks began, Leona watched in awe.  She “oohed and ahhed,” she clapped her hands together in delight, she jumped when a boom was especially loud and finally, she put her hands over her ears as the fireworks reach a crescendo and ended with a cacophony of sound that echoed along the skyscrapers.  When it was over, Napoleon carried her inside followed by the Russian.

“Say goodnight to Papa.  It is way past your bedtime,” Napoleon said as he leaned her toward Illya.

She kissed his cheek and said, “Goodnight, Papa.  Love you.”

“Спокойной ночи дочь. Я тоже тебя люблю. (Goodnight, Daughter.  I love you, too.)”

Illya watched his partner carry their child to her room.  He decided to have a drink before retiring so he went into the kitchen, removed his bottle from the freezer and pulled two glasses from the cupboard.  He put ice in one for Napoleon and went into the living room.  Less than five minutes later, Napoleon came in and settled onto the couch after getting his single malt scotch out of the liquor cabinet.

“I swear she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.  I thought she might be jumpy after all that noise.”

Illya nodded as he took a swallow from his glass.  “An example I intend to follow as soon as I finish my drink.”

“As do I, Tovarisch.  Today was a good day.”

Illya finished his drink, stood and stretched.  “Yes, it was.  Happy Birthday, Amerikanski.”

Illya was sitting at his desk going through his mail.  Why does it seem that the moment Napoleon and I are away on a mission, everyone in UNCLE suddenly decides to contact me about something?  The next envelope he picked up contained a smaller, cream colored envelope with his name printed in calligraphic writing with no return address.  This is different, he thought.

“Napoleon,” he said after he opened it, “Melody Beauchamp is getting married.  She has sent me an invitation to the wedding.”