She had found him sitting in the rain on her porch, and while that scared her to death when the patio light went on, the first thing she said was: “Get out of the rain, what do you think you’re doing, young man?”
It wasn’t even in jest – not when she saw how he looked at her with uncertain adoration and naked, pleading hunger.
Melissa had a long, taxing shift behind her but now she found herself miraculously alert again. She had taken his hand and pulled him in after her, chiding him like a little child the whole way into the bathroom. Chris didn’t seem to mind the treatment – in fact, he seemed to love it. His pale cheeks got a little color back and he looked docile and calm, helping her get him out of the heavy, wet garments.
She rubbed his hair dry and lovingly smoothed the spikes down with her fingers. Chris’ eyes drooped like he was going to fall asleep then and there, his forehead leaned contentedly against her breasts.
“Sorry, Mommy,” he croaked, long arms carefully sliding around her middle and hugging her to him. Melissa could feel her throat constrict and rubbed gentle circles into the back of his neck.
“What happened, baby?”
He just shook his head and when he looked up, he looked so deeply miserable, Melissa wanted to swaddle him up in a blanket and hide him away; this man older than her; this trained soldier.
She cupped his face for a moment in her hands and looked solemnly back into clear, blue eyes, then nodded and pulled him with her downstairs.
She sat him at the kitchen table and made him pasta. She watched him eat ravenously while she stroked his short, graying hair and once more got reminded of a starving, stray dog.
“I want to put you in my pocket and carry you around with me,” she said after a while, startling him enough to drop his fork with a clatter. He ducked his head in a new bout of endearing shyness and whispered, “I’d like that, Mommy.”
Cyberrat Writes 