“I did too,” I reply indignantly. “But I walk on my feet, not my knees.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” Sebastian is still sporting a mischievous smile when Mrs. Bennett joins us.
“Oh, dear, you need to tend to those immediately.” She points at my knees, looking as worried as I feel.
“That’s where we’re going,” Sebastian informs her.
“Oh, no. You stay here, and I’ll take care of her. You gave me nightmares when you were little, always insisting on cleaning your own scratches, doing a half-assed job and getting infected.”
I feel my eyes widen, unsure what surprises me more: that she used the word half-assed or that Sebastian actually cowers a tad. Ah, nothing like a mother’s wrath.
“By all means, Mother, take care of Ava. She’ll appreciate it more than I did. Ava, be a good girl and let me know if Mom tries to give you antibiotics for a simple scratch.”
Mrs. Bennett tsks, and Sebastian takes off with a smile.
“I was a mother hen when they were little,” Mrs. Bennett confesses, “but I worried about them all the time. There were so many of them, and at least three of them were up to no good half the time, and the others were covering for them. It was madness.” Her smile tells me she wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“Isn’t that what mothers do? Worry?” I remember my mom always worried about putting food on the table, about my education, about not spending enough time with me. Mostly, she worried about my future. She wanted me to have a better life than she had. I look up at the sky, believing, as I always have, that my mother can hear me, and I smile. Oh, Mother, if you could see me now. I am happy. Very happy indeed.
Mrs. Bennett puts a protective arm around me and leads me inside the house.
***
Sebastian
“What happened to Ava?” Dad asks.
“She scraped her knees. Mom’s nursing her.”
He pats my shoulder, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “I’m happy for you, son.”
Ah, the dreaded talk with Dad. I knew it was coming. Strangely, now that it’s upon me, I even find myself looking forward to it. We both sit on a bench further away from the group.
“Ava’s a great girl.”
“She is, but don’t get your hopes up. When her assignment ends, she’ll leave.”
Dad nods, as if considering my words. “I told you this before, son, but it bears repeating: nothing is more important than having someone strong to share your life with.”
“Dad—”
“Whenever there are ups and downs, we’ll be here for you. However, we’ll never replace the woman you love. You know how hard those years were before you built your business.”
“I do.”
“I wouldn’t have gotten through them without your mother. Now, I’ll go get a beer. Think about what I told you.”
***
Ava
The smell of cinnamon and raisins inside the house welcomes me, rich and warm.
“Sit here, dear.” She points to the couch in the living room. I sit and wait patiently until she returns with rubbing alcohol and cotton pads. Raising my hands, I intend to relieve her of the items and nurse my knees by myself.
“I’ll do it. You can let someone else take care of you once in a while, dear.”
“I’m not used to it.” It feels wonderful though. I remember when I was sick and Sebastian took care of me, and when Pippa did my hair. “Your son takes good care of me.”