The Monday afternoon after our scare with Theo, I came home from school weary and in need of a long winter’s nap. When we came into the house, Alexander met us at the door.
He whispered in my ear as he helped me out of my coat. “My love, are you exhausted?”
“I am.” My love. I’d never tire of hearing those words out of his mouth.
“How’s Theo?” Flynn asked.
“Much better,” Alexander said. “He slept a lot today, but he ate some of Lizzie’s soup.”
Flynn’s pinched face relaxed. “I’m going to see him. Just to make sure.”
All day at school, Flynn had fretted silently over his twin. At lunch he hadn’t even wanted to go outside, staying instead to clean the blackboard. When I’d asked him why he would miss the chance to be outside, he’d shrugged and said, “Without Theo, it doesn’t seem right to have fun.”
The children all scurried off to find out what Lizzie had for them in the kitchen.
“I’ll look after things this afternoon,” he said. “You rest. I have something special for you later.”
I reluctantly agreed, my fatigue winning against any other argument.
He kissed me lightly and pointed toward the stairs. “Off with you.”
I trudged up the stairs and down the hall, stopping at the boys’ room first. They were both on their beds facing each other. From what I could tell, Flynn was in the middle of telling Theo the details of the day. “Then, Miss Quinn told us about the time the Americans dumped all this tea into the Boston Harbor. It was a band of resistant fighters and they went in the middle of the night and threw it all off the sides of ships. I wish I’d have been there.”
Theo, hanging on every word, nodded. “Did they get in trouble?”
Flynn noticed me then. “Miss Quinn, tell him what happened next.”
“I’m tired from talking all day,” I said. “But later, I’ll tell you about it.”
“Thanks, Miss Quinn.”
“I’m off to rest,” I said. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Miss Quinn,” Flynn said. “Are we bad because we’re part English?”
“No, of course not. That was all a long time ago. England and America are great friends now.”
“But how can that be?” Theo asked. “If they were enemies before?”
“Politics is complicated,” I said. “The best thing to remember is that it’s not people but governments who create wars.”
They both stared at me with blank expressions.
“By government, I mean men in power. They want something the other country has and decide sacrificing young men’s lives is the way to get it.”
“Will we ever have to be soldiers?” Theo asked.
I put my hand over my chest. “I’ll pray you won’t. I hope we’ll never have another war where we have to send our sons off to fight.”
“I’d want to fight,” Flynn said. “If we had a war, that is.”
“Miss Quinn, you said mothers send sons off to war,” Theo said. “What happens if you don’t have a mother?”
I fought tears and examined my fingernails until I could think of a sensitive response. “Young men are sent off to war by the women and girls who love them but also by fathers and uncles and even grandfathers. While they’re gone, those who wait at home pray for their safe return and never ever stop loving them. It doesn’t have to be a mother.”
“What if you were our mother?” Flynn asked. “Then we’d have someone to send us off and wait for us to come back.”
Tears spilled from my eyes. I brushed them away as quickly as I could. “It would be my great honor to be your mother. If I were, there is no place you could go that I wouldn’t be waiting here when you return. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you well and safe.”