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Not after all of this.
Is it terrible that I just want to stay here?
Is it horrible that I’m finding myself falling for someone who isn’t even human?
It feels crazy.
But it also feels wonderful, and I think that’s what scares me the most.
Chapter Seven
Heath
“Silas, can you hand me the milk?”
“Yep,” Silas says, and he reaches for the glass bottle of milk that’s sitting on the counter. Carefully, he hands it to me. He’s trying so hard to hold it steady, but the milk is still sloshing around in the bottle. Luckily, the top is on tightly, so there’s no chance of it spilling out.
“Careful,” Sebastian says with a warning in his voice. He watches his brother carefully, doing his best to make sure that Silas is cautious as he moves.
“I am,” Silas says.
“Good,” Sebastian nods in approval.
“Thank you,” I tell him when he finally hands me the milk. He grins, and his smile is full of pride and happiness. He’s a good kid. They both are.
I hand Sebastian the bowl and a mixing spoon. I show him how to start stirring the pancake mixture.
“Okay, keep stirring,” I tell him. “Silas and I are going to add the milk, and we don’t want to spill.”
“No spills,” Sebastian repeats. Then he laughs and starts stirring the bowl a little bit faster.
“Gentle stirs,” I tell him. “Gentle hands. Remember: we aren’t in a rush, okay? We have plenty of time, so let’s be gentle with the spoon.”
“Gentle,” he repeats.
“Good.”
He keeps stirring and as he does, Silas and I carefully pour in the right amount of milk. The dough starts to thicken a little, and Sebastian struggles, but I nod to him.
“You got this,” I say, because he does. Learning to make pancakes is one of my favorite childhood memories. It’s one of the best things that my mother ever did for me. She used to let me sit with her while she cooked, and in turn, I got to enjoy...everything.
The boys and I finish making the dough, and then I show them how I heat up the pan.
“This part is just for me,” I tell them. I’m happy to let them help, but I have no idea just how far their kitchen experience extends and besides, I’m not about to let Theresa think I’m a terrible babysitter.
She’s a fantastic mom. I can already tell. No matter what anyone says, she’s the type of woman who always does her best and who helps the people around her.
Including these kids.
It’s strange to me that she didn’t have children of her own, but found it in her heart to adopt these boys who didn’t have parents. She didn’t have to do that, but she did. There was nothing forcing her to reach out and assist these kids, but she did. She did it for them.
She did it because it was the right thing to do.
I can’t imagine how scared she must have been to find out that her new children aren’t human, but I mean, who would have even though to ask that?
It’s not like when you’re adopting a kid there’s a checkbox that queries, “Are you comfortable adopting kids who might be able to change into your favorite type of animal?” I mean, come on.
Nope, these kids were a gift for her, absolutely, but they were also a surprise. In my opinion, she’s handling that surprise with total grace.
