“I heard Great Granny say my mom followed the rules when she stopped at the sign. But my mom got dead.” His bottom lip trembled as he glared at his father. “Dead means she’s gone, and she isn’t coming back ever again.”
Reese’s mouth worked, but he said nothing. So Olivia took over.
“Do you remember your mother, Brady?”
From her many conversations with Sara, Olivia knew Reese’s wife had died several years earlier. The twins would probably not remember her, but Olivia knew it would be helpful to encourage them to talk about her anyway. Maybe something today had triggered a sense of loss.
“Brady doesn’t remember nothing.”
“Do so. She had brown hair.” Brady glared at his brother. “Like choc-lat.”
“You saw that in a picture. You don’t remember it.” Brett’s voice wobbled. “I think I do sometimes, but—” He shrugged, his little face confused.
Olivia glanced at Reese, expecting him to soothe them. But he was still dealing with his own shock. His stare remained frozen on the children.
“Sweetheart, your mom is tucked inside here.” Olivia tapped Brett’s little chest. “She wouldn’t care if you remembered what she looked like. All she’d care about is that you remember that she loved you very much.”
Brett studied her for a few minutes.
“There’s only Daddy and us in our house. It’s not like the kids at day care. Most of them have daddies and mommies. I wish I had a mommy.”
“Why do you wish that, Brett?” Years of training and thousands of phone calls to a kids’ radio show Olivia had taken from a small New York station to national syndication had taught her that talking was often the best therapy.
“The other kids’ mommies send cookies on special days and push them on the swings and help say prayers at night.” Brady, not Brett, volunteered the information.
“But your dad does things with you, too, doesn’t he?”
Please don’t let me be wrong.
“Not cookies,” Brady corrected. “He does other things.”
“The minister at church said God made families with moms and dads.” Brett blinked at her through the hank of dark brown hair that flopped over one eye. “We don’t gots a mom.”
Implying God didn’t make his family?
Realizing Reese wasn’t capable of responding at that moment, Olivia hurried to reassure.
“God loves all kinds of families, Brett. He loves families with lots of kids and families with only one little boy or girl. He loves families with only a daddy or only a mommy, too. That part doesn’t matter to God. What matters is that families love each other. I know you love your daddy.”
“Yep,” Brett squealed, jumped up. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too.” Reese’s voice emerged hoarse, choked as he swung his son into his arms and hugged him close. He smiled at Olivia, but it was a distracted courtesy. His attention returned to Brett.
“Why did you come here?” The question held a warning.
Brett’s bottom lip jutted out. “To fish.”
“What did Cade say?” Reese squatted with Brady resting on his knee. “What did I say, Brett?” His voice was stern, his gaze intense, but his hand, as he lifted it to drag through his hair, trembled. When the boy didn’t speak, Reese repeated, “What did I say?”
“Not to.”
“What did you promise? Both of you?”
“Not to come.” Brady looked at his brother. “I told him not to.”
“But you came along with him. After you’d both promised me.”
Olivia admired the way Reese forced them to admit their wrongdoing without raising his voice. Though his olive-tanned skin had sallowed and his rich blue eyes still looked haunted by the near disaster, he was trying to teach them.
“I make rules to protect you guys, so you won’t get hurt. I do that because I love you and because I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” Reese inhaled to steady his voice. “Brett could have drowned. This water is dangerous. It’s not a place for kids to come by themselves. Cade told you and I told you, but you disobeyed anyway.”
“If I had swimming lessons I could—”
“Brett!”
The little boy gulped, raised his head and looked at his dad, shame washing over his face.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Me, too,” Brady chirped right before he wrapped his chubby arms around Reese’s neck and squeezed.
Olivia’s heart tightened. If only she could feel Anika’s beloved arms once more. If only Trevor…Her heart wept as she sent a prayer for peace heavenward.
“I’m sorry, too.” Reese sat the boys back down, his tone firmer now. “But being sorry isn’t always enough. It wouldn’t do any good to be sorry if Brady didn’t have a brother anymore, would it, Brett?”
The twins stared at each other as if they’d never imagined such a thing.
“Obedience is important. The only way I can do my daddy job properly is to keep you two safe. That’s why you have to obey me.”
Fatherhood equaled safety? Olivia frowned.
Reese looked in control, but she saw signs that his emotions were still riding high. And little wonder.
“Do you understand?”
Two brown heads slowly nodded.
“Are we getting punished?”
“Yes, Brett, you are. After Auntie Sara’s party, when we’re at home. Right now I want you to put on your shoes, take your brother’s hand and get back up the hill. Your backpacks are in the house. You can change clothes. Emily will help you.” He pointed to the teenage girl who stood at the crest of the hill, watching. “Understand?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
They began gathering their belongings.
“Boys?”
They turned, studied Reese with question marks in their eyes.
“Do you have something to say to Olivia?”
“Thank you for helping my brother,” Brady said. He gave her a shy hug.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Brett offered his hand. Once she’d shaken it, he backed away. “I’m sorry you got wet and your dress got wrecked.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, Brett.”
