Miles away

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My brother and I were standing in the kitchen; him preparing dinner, I catching up with things and angling for red wine. "You might want to speak to Nephew about Uncle M." he says all of a sudden. Uncle M is my ex that I left back in February; he loved my nephews and they loved him dearly. And Nephew is very clever and has been asking anybody but me (see? very clever) about Uncle M. My brother has mentioned it before and I have given it some thought; maybe even hoping the memory would fade and the kids would stop asking. But today Nephew had been asked whether he had siblings and he had answered gingerly "I have a sister" (forgetting little new Nephew 3.0 there), and then he had gone on to mention his uncle H, his uncle C and his Uncle M. I looked at my brother for a while before I answered. "Yeah, well; I guess he's old enough". Nephew is 5. After dinner Nephew and I finished off the treasuremap we had been painting, and then went on with all his nigh...
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In spite of the lovely weather, I feel strangely drained for energy today. I've got this afternoons' staffmeeting on my mind. When they appointed me personalechef ,  I sort of thought not much would change. I have always felt responsible for things going well in the restaurant and for our guest having a good time, it comes to me naturally, and I like to try my best and love the feeling of doing a good job. I realize I was naive, thinking that things wouldn't change much. Sure, I have more chores and more responsability, but people have changed; my workmates have changed. They're not so much mates anymore, they're less chummy and I feel like there's a distance between us, and I am a little sad about that. I realize it is probably normal but I firmly believe that giving good service to our guests starts with feeling good about working as waiters, and a good part of *that* comes from feeling good with your collegues. Simple as that. So this distance makes me ...
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I let him look at me. All of a sudden I felt him there, in the doorway of my little kitchen, felt him looking at me, my skin tingling a bit where his gaze passed over me. I hadn't heard him coming, though I was very aware of him moving around the apartment, very aware of his presence there with me. Aware of him moving around, looking at things, taking in my home with all of his senses. I had been inexplicably nervous about him coming here, had cleaned up very thoroughly and tried to see my home as he would see it. Inexplicably; because I am not one to be fazed easily. And now he was standing there in the doorway of my kitchen looking at me. And I let him look without acknowledging his presence there; leaning casually against the doorway. Much to my surprise I let him look at me working, grinding coffeebeans or whatever I was doing. Refusing to turn my head, meet his eyes and break the moment, when I suddenly got the impression that he knew, that *I knew* he was looking at me...
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