The little boy in question bursts into tears. “Sorry, Momma! I so sorry!”
“It’s okay, baby!” the mom cries. “You’re being so brave, Tristan!”
Tears spill down my cheeks as I remove my wet coat so I can hold the sobbing baby. I shiver, even though the van is warm. The mom mixes the water and formula quickly. “My milk never came in?—”
“You donothave to justify how you feed your baby!” I say, bouncing and shushing the little baby the way my aunts did when they had little ones. “You’re doing exactly what you should do.” The baby is so tiny in my arms, and she’s crying hard enough that her face is beet red.
The mom shakes the formula and adds a couple of drops of something milky. “Gas drops,” she explains. “May I?”
“Of course.” I hand the baby back to her in the front seat, and she puts the bottle up to her frantic baby’s mouth. The baby makes an urgent, desperate sound and then latches onto it hard and fast. Little hiccups escape her throat, and she does double breaths as she drinks. Her mom whispers, “You’re safe. I love you and you’re safe.”
I don’t know what makes me look at Coop when she says this. But when I do, his eyes are already on mine, and the bravado I’ve gotten so accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. Instead, he looks open, stripped down, laid bare.
In that moment, a frisson of warmth travels from his heart to mine so surely, I can feel it.
And when he pulls his gaze away to talk to the insistent toddler, the feeling remains.
The little boy rummages through Coop’s bag, foregoing the beef sticks and peanut butter crackers for two sugar cookies. His brother takes two more.
“Should we ask your mom?” Coop asks.
“No,” the little boy says, stuffing his mouth with one cookie and then the other.
Coop laughs and gives both boys water bottles. The smaller boy drinks half of it while Coop helps hold the bottle so it doesn’t spill.
“I’m Liesel, by the way,” I say to the mom. “And this is Coop.”
The mom looks up from her baby. “Coop? Holy cow, you’re Cooper Kellogg!”
“Cooper Kellogg works for Santa?” the oldest boy asks, looking awestruck.
“Only when he’s nice instead of naughty,” I say with a wink.
Coop smiles at me before looking at the others. “It’s good to meet you guys. I’m sorry we didn’t see your message before this.”
“I can’t believe you’d risk walking in this storm to help a stranger,” she says, crying again.
“Don’t tell anyone this or it’ll destroy his reputation,” I say, “but he’s actually a really amazing guy.”
“That’s right,” Coop says. “We can’t do anything to shatter my precious reputation.”
I stick my tongue out at him, and the little toddler boy laughs and jams another cookie into his mouth.
“I’m Heather,” she says. “This little angel is Shannon, and the boys are Forrest and Tristan.”
“Where were you guys headed?” Coop asks.
“Rockford. We live in the city, but my parents are there.”
“And what about their dad?” I ask.
“He’s not with us.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
Heather laughs. “No, not like that! He’s deployed. He’s an Air Force doctor, but he’s safe right now.”
“Have you checked in with your parents?”
