Lily was trying to hold back her tears. Hanna could tell they came from anger, rather than sadness, and it warmed her. “And everybody knows I can climb higher than any of them.” Lily waved her hand dismissively, referring to Matty and her cousin Nathan Junior.
“Try to ignore them, sweetheart.” Hanna pulled Lily toward her, wrapping her arms around Lily’s scant frame. “They’re jealous, and maybe a little worried for your safety.”
“I wasn’t climbing that high, Momma,” Lily scoffed. “I wanted to check inside the bird’s nest.”
Hanna squeezed her eyes shut trying not to think of the danger her daughter was placing herself in. She wanted her children to grow up with a healthy dose of the great outdoors, knowing the world was theirs to explore. But it was so hard to create boundaries, and to stop them from pushing things too far.
Lily hugged her mom back before pulling away and running back into the woods where, no doubt, she would hound her cousins until they admitted she was the best climber. Hanna watched as Matty sidled toward her, his face pulled back into a scowl as he approached.
“Have you heard from Dad?” He glanced down, but Hanna could tell he was chewing his lip again.
“Not yet, sweetheart.” She reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Matty was the most sensitive of her children, and the one who was closest to Richard. They were the two boys among a host of girls, and they clung to each other. When Richard was away, Matty was like a lost soul, counting the hours until his dad returned.
“Will he get here in time?” Matty looked up at her, and she could see the trepidation in his eyes. Her heart clenched for him.
“Sweetheart, if your dad says he’ll be somewhere, he’ll be there. Unless there’s a major catastrophe or something is physically stopping him, he never breaks a promise.”
He looked up at her, his face shining with hope. “I really want him to be here.”
Hanna pulled him close. “I know you do, darling. And he wants to be here, too. He couldn’t talk of anything else when he called yesterday.” She gave him a small smile. “But regardless, you really need to stop teasing your sister. You’re driving her crazy.”
“She drives me crazy,” he complained. “She’s always tagging after me and NJ.” Nathan Junior and Matty were as thick as thieves, despite there being two years between the cousins. It warmed her heart to see her children surrounded by family, like fish swimming in a sea of love.
“I need you to be my big man today, Matt.” She knew he hated his nickname, although he’d always be Matty to her. “Without Daddy here, I need all the help I can muster to get this show on the road.”
She looked around the camp, amazed at how much they’d achieved over the years. From an idea in Richard’s head, the Leon Maxwell Memorial Summer Camp had grown not only to encompass those children affected by 9/11, but now reached out to neglected and poverty-stricken children throughout the US. Hanna had been working all week with the 150 children to put on a show, and the performance was due to start in less than three hours.
The field was already full of spectators, sitting on blankets and picnicking, waiting for the show to begin.
“I’ll help, Momma.” Matty buried his head in her shoulder, and she was reminded of how much he’d grown recently. Like his father, he was tall, looking much older than his ten years.
“Thank you,” she whispered in his hair.
“Do you really think Dad will be back in time to hear me play?” he asked again. Richard had been away for two weeks, working with the Maxwell Foundation to provide aid to poverty-stricken children in West Africa. He had planned to arrive home the previous day, but emergency talks with the local chiefs had delayed his departure.
“He’ll be here.” Hanna didn’t need to think twice. In the past eight years of their marriage, he hadn’t let her down once. He sure as hell wouldn’t let down his own children.
“Okay then.” Matty was slightly mollified. She watched him lope over to the stage area where Tom was working with a group of roadies, trying to set up the PA system to his own exacting standards. Tom leaned down and whispered something in Matty’s ear, and Hanna put her hand to her chest, watching as the two of them started to plug in leads. Tom showed his godson where each one should go.
“It all looks like it’s coming together.” A warm voice to her left made Hanna whip around. Claire was standing right behind her, holding a sleeping Molly in her arms. Molly’s thumb was stuck in her mouth as she sucked it voraciously. Hanna reached out to touch her soft, downy hair. At two, she was the baby of the family, and doted on by all of them.
“I’ll be glad when it begins,” Hanna admitted. “The kids are all so jittery.”
“It means a lot to them, having people come and listen. Most of them have never had the chance to perform before.”
Hanna nodded, trying to swallow her tears as she thought about how neglected some of these children were. One week out of 52 wasn’t enough to make a difference, and it made her angry. She glanced across to the lake where Sean Flynn, the camp director, had organized a series of games for the afternoon to take the kids’ minds off the impending performance.
“You and Richard have done wonderful things since you ramped up the Maxwell Foundation.” Claire reached out her spare hand and rubbed Hanna’s arm. “I’m so proud of you both.”
“Thank you.” Hanna felt herself choke up. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”
It was true. Claire had worked as hard as the rest of them to raise funds: organizing galas and charity dinners in New York. All things Hanna naturally shied away from.
“I’ll put Molly down for her nap.” Claire pointed toward the hut that served as an office, where Hanna had erected a travel cot at the start of the summer. Hanna nodded and mouthed a “thank you” as Claire walked toward it.
Claire and Steven had moved back to the States a few years earlier. They’d proved to be such a support for Richard and Hanna as well as their little family. Nathan and Lucy had settled down in Connecticut, and though Tom was still touring a lot, he and Ruby had made their base in New York.
The city Hanna had grown up hating, had suddenly felt like home.