Motherhood
He didn’t know the significance of the day. Mortal holidays had very little meaning for him. But he’d gone into New York to see about starting to play again and all of the signs and cards and flowers had made enough of an impression for him to ask someone.
He found a card that didn’t say quite what he thought it should, but then nothing written could, and it was as close as he could find and the picture was more beautiful than anything he could have made. Flowers. He wondered if chocolates were appropriate, but then remembered that most of the box had been near going to waste after Valentine’s day until he and Michael and Noah rescued them. She forgot candy easily, it seemed.
Instead he found jewelry with a pearl and an amethyst set together in a spiral of gold. Her birthstone and Noah’s. It seemed appropriate.
When she woke up that morning, he found that what he’d brought in was easily eclipsed. A bouncing four year old landed on their bed, with a card covered in crayon scribbles and something that looked like it might have been a teacup, lumpy and oddly shaped out of clay.
Keelia sat up, pushing her hair back and smiling at the exuberant little boy.
“Is that for me?”
He nodded. “For your day.”
Her breath caught as she reached for them, carefully. “Thank you, Noah. They’re beautiful.” When she looked at the card, Midir saw tears in her eyes before she handed it to him and pulled Noah close in a tight hug that had the little boy squirming fairly quickly.
He read it and smiled, then handed it over to Michael with a slightly misty grin. It was obvious someone had helped Noah write it out, but the words were his. It had started “For Kee” but that had been scribbled out emphatically in green crayon.
Below it instead were the words “For my mama.”
He found a card that didn’t say quite what he thought it should, but then nothing written could, and it was as close as he could find and the picture was more beautiful than anything he could have made. Flowers. He wondered if chocolates were appropriate, but then remembered that most of the box had been near going to waste after Valentine’s day until he and Michael and Noah rescued them. She forgot candy easily, it seemed.
Instead he found jewelry with a pearl and an amethyst set together in a spiral of gold. Her birthstone and Noah’s. It seemed appropriate.
When she woke up that morning, he found that what he’d brought in was easily eclipsed. A bouncing four year old landed on their bed, with a card covered in crayon scribbles and something that looked like it might have been a teacup, lumpy and oddly shaped out of clay.
Keelia sat up, pushing her hair back and smiling at the exuberant little boy.
“Is that for me?”
He nodded. “For your day.”
Her breath caught as she reached for them, carefully. “Thank you, Noah. They’re beautiful.” When she looked at the card, Midir saw tears in her eyes before she handed it to him and pulled Noah close in a tight hug that had the little boy squirming fairly quickly.
He read it and smiled, then handed it over to Michael with a slightly misty grin. It was obvious someone had helped Noah write it out, but the words were his. It had started “For Kee” but that had been scribbled out emphatically in green crayon.
Below it instead were the words “For my mama.”