Page 3 of Rescue

“There’s nothing wrong with crying, Lennon.” Suddenly she sits down in the grass, pulling me right up into her lap. I know I’m too big for this—I am six, after all, and Cash and Reed never sit in her lap. But they aren’t around to tease me, and it feels so nice, sitting with Mom like this.

“You’re a sensitive little guy,” she says, kissing the top of my head. “That’s a good thing.”

“What’s sensitive mean?”

She thinks for a minute. “It means you have a lot of feelings.”

I scrunch up my face. “That sounds like being a baby.”

She laughs. I love how her laugh sounds, all tinkling, like the glass music box on her dresser, the one I’m not supposed to touch. “You’re not a baby, Lennon. You’re strong, just like your brothers.” She sighs, pulling me closer. “But sometimes things are a little harder for you.”

“Because I have a lot of feelings?”

“Because you’re very smart.” Her voice doesn’t sound as happy anymore, and that icky feeling is back in my tummy. “And because you can see when things aren’t fair. And you can see when things are sad or when something makes a person feel bad. Other people ignore those things.”

I cuddle into her arms, feeling a little scared. I don’t like how her voice sounds. She squeezes me tight, and I can smell something else on her dress. Smoke maybe?

“How about you and I go inside and make some cookies?” she asks suddenly, and I sit up straight, forgetting about the smoke smell. I turn in her arms to see her face. She’s smiling.

“Just us?”

“Just us.”

“Yeah!” I jump up from her lap, making her laugh as I grab her hand and pull her up so that she’s standing. “Really?”

“Sure.” She ruffles my hair again, and I’m smiling so big my ears hurt. “There’s no one else I would rather spend the afternoon with.”

We walk to the house holding hands, Mom swinging my arm and making me laugh. I decide I don’t care so much about my brothers being mean. Cash could call me a baby all he wanted, and Reed could be unfair, and Daltrey could be a spoiled brat. It didn’t matter. Because there was no one else my mom would rather spend the afternoon with than me.

She said so herself.