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Greer
“You doing alright?” I ask Evie after we tour the farm. The boys loved the horses. I let them ride on a little pony we have. They were both delighted. Chase didn’t even bother hiding his excitement for once.
We’re walking toward my place now, the cool evening air around us. Her hand is in mine, and this is how it should always be. I want to end every day like this, holding my girl’s hand and talking with her.
The boys are racing ahead of us, chasing each other through the tall grass and just being kids. I get the feeling they don’t get too much of that in their everyday lives. That will be something I change. With me around to protect them and their sister, they’ll be able to relax and just have fun. They’ll know a carefree childhood from this moment forward.
“I’m OK,” she answers a little too quickly. “Just tired.”
I stop walking and give her hand a gentle squeeze when she does too. “Talk to me.”
The grimace she gives me is filled with pain. “The steroid gives me a raging headache for a few days. It’s starting now.”
I hate that the medication that’s supposed to help is causing pain. “What can I do?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go back to the apartment and take some pain relievers. Maybe hit the bed early if the boys are tired enough.”
“Or stay here tonight. Let me take care of you.” If she’s here, I can look after her. At her arched eyebrow, I hold up my hands. “Nothing like that.”
Evie chews her lower lip for a long moment. “I can't do that. The boys don't have clothes or toiletries.”
Her response tells me she’s seriously considering the idea. All I have to do is nudge her toward it. “My mom used to foster kids. She still donates backpacks filled with clothes and essentials. She won’t mind if I take a couple of them.”
She sighs softly. “I don't want us to be a burden.”
I want to reach out and touch her face. I want to pull her into my arms and crush her against my chest. “When are you going to understand that taking care of you and your brothers will never be a burden in my eyes?”
She starts to smile but winces instead. “Just for tonight.”
It only takes me a few minutes to settle the boys and Evie at my place. The three of them are streaming an action movie.
I leave them there with strict instructions not to answer the door for anyone but me. The family farm is just rural enough that no one would accidentally stumble on my place. Anyone that shows up is likely the same person that hurt them. That’ll never happen again. Not so long as there’s breath in my body.
It doesn’t take me long to get to my mom’s place. I only live a quarter of a mile down the road. I’d originally planned to custom-build my house on the east edge of the property, near the waterfront. I’d imagined long weekends spent boating and fishing.
But as the symptoms of multiple sclerosis showed up in her life, I changed my plan. I didn’t want to be miles away from my mom if she needed me. Now I’m doubly glad I live so close. If Evie and the boys ever need anything, I know my mom will look after them.
As it is, she texted me several times today. Courage is a small community, and she heard about Evie’s asthma attacks. I reassured her that Evie was fine and would be good as new in a few days with proper care.
I don’t bother knocking on the front door. All of us come and go from Mom’s place throughout the day. We’re constantly coordinating check-ins, meals, and shifts at her candle shop.
We’re doing everything we can to keep her busy and active. We want her to stay engaged with her community, and to know she’s loved. It’s no hardship for a woman who gave us everything—taking in five foster kids and giving us a loving home.
“Greer.” Mom looks up from the dining table where she and Noah have a dozen books spread out. Several of them are dog-eared copies of her favorite candle-making books. A few are new books that I don’t recognize, but a glance at the titles confirms they’re all about making hypoallergenic products. It’s just like my mom to be worried about my girl. “You look hungry. Do you want a sandwich? Noah, pass me that bread. I’ll make your favorite.”
I fight a smile at the way she still clucks over me like I’m the half-starved twelve-year-old boy who came to her all those years ago. “No, I ate earlier. I’ve got Evie over at my place—”
Mom’s face instantly lights up the moment I mention her. “How is she? Martha said she was in a bad way, and you carried her in your arms. But then you were seen together at the donut shop, looking very cozy according to Mrs. Cranston.”
Mom loves knowing what’s going on at all times. I’m surprised she didn’t call me the moment she heard that I was at the donut shop.
She’s still talking, “So I’ll go over there and check on her right now. Noah, get my good cardigan and my purse.” She pats her hair. “Wish Ginger were here. She’d curl my hair the right way.”
Noah shakes his head. His voice is quiet, and gentle when he says, “I don’t think we’re invited over just yet.”
Mom deflates. She means well. She’s been after me to find a nice girl and settle down for the past few years. I thought it’d get better when my little sister, Ginger, got married. That only seemed to make Mom even more determined that what her boys need are wives.
