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“Wally?”
“My worry worm. I tell him my worries and he eats them. And now that I’ve said that out loud, it sounds ridiculous. Cash made him for me when I was younger.”
“Would you show me Wally?” he asked.
“You . . . you really want to see him?”
“I would be honored,” he told her seriously.
This was harder than expected.
She never showed Wally to anyone. Not even Livvy. She didn’t know if Aidan realized she still had him. She usually kept him hidden away.
Slowly, she drew him out. If Hack laughed at him or called him ugly . . . well, she would know he wasn’t as kind as he pretended to be.
Then she’d knee him in the balls.
Hack sucked in a breath as she held Wally on her lap.
Wally . . . well, he was a bit scruffy. Okay, more than a bit scruffy.
“You said Cash made him for you?” he asked.
“Uh, yes. I was . . . I was recovering from a burst appendix. Cash and I were always close.”
Until he disappeared.
“He wanted to do something to help me. So he gathered up pieces of material and some stuffing that he took from one of his toys. He gave all the money he had saved up to Mrs. Winchley. She lived in the apartment below us and sometimes she’d make us some clothes. She was the only person we knew who could sew.”
“She sewed Wally?”
“Yeah. I mean, she was a really terrible sewer, blind as a bat, but she did her best.”
She wondered what he was thinking as he stared down at Wally. He was a patchwork worm, created with bits of fluffy material, along with some velvet and pieces of plaid. There were about fifteen different pieces of fabric that made up the long worm. And he was fatter in the middle than he was at either end.
“He used a couple of old buttons for the eyes.” Mrs. Winchley had sewed them on crooked, which gave the worm a sort of demented look.
But she loved him. And she couldn’t be without him. She’d had to patch him up a time or two. Which had just added to his higgledy-piggledy look.
However, she wouldn’t change him for the world. When Cash had gone missing, it felt like Wally was the only thing holding her together.
She swallowed.
“Well, he’s . . . he’s . . .”
“Yes?” she prompted
“Unique.”
She eyed Hack, wondering if that was what he really thought. Or if he was just humoring her.
“There’s no one like Wally.” She brought him up to her nose and rubbed him against her upper lip before pushing her thumb into her mouth.
Then she froze.
Crap. What was she doing? Her defenses were down and her Little wanted to take over.
“Um. Sorry.”
