He curled his lip at her. “You talk funny.”
“Baby Bird!” Agnes peeled away from Stephen, wiping her eyes with her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s all right.” Corina tweaked the boy’s nose. “I’m from America and I think you talk funny too. Now, where’s that ball?”
He ran off without another word.
“He’s full of it. Keeps me hopping.” Agnes pulled a handkerchief from her handbag by the front door.
“He’s Bird’s?”
She nodded and blew her nose.
“Did he know?”
She pressed the wadded up handkerchief into her palm and shook her head. “I wanted to surprise him. I found out a month before he was due home, so I thought to make it a late Christmas present. One month to go. That was all. One lousy month.” The boy bounded into the room with his rugby ball. It was half the size of him yet. Agnes patted his head. “Mitchell O’Connell the Third. Bird’s boy.”
Her eyes glistened and her lean shoulders seemed too delicate to bear her burden alone. “Bird and me was two of a kind. Joined at the hip like we was made to be together. My only family, and I never figured a life without him, then there I was, alone and pregnant. Not legally his wife yet. We did things backwards.”
“He’s beautiful.” Corina knelt in front of Baby Bird. “Do you want to go outside? I can teach you some of the basics of the world’s best sport, American football.”
“What?” Stephen balked, laughing. “Pay her no mind, Baby Bird.”
But he was halfway out the back door, cheering.
Corina gave Stephen a smug look and walked round him. “Coming, Baby Bird.”
“She’s lovely.”
“Yes, she is.” Stephen perched on the arm of the chair and took Agnes’s hand in his. “I promised Bird I’d look out for you.”
“But I’m not his proper wife. You don’t owe me anything, though I sure would like something for Baby Bird.” Her cheeks flushed red as she glanced down at the chair, picking at a loose thread. “I know Bird would want more for his son than I can give him.” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. “I’m not ashamed to ask if you’re offering.”
“How are you getting on? You’ve a job?”
“Bird’s parents mind Baby Bird for me while I work at the school. Teaching assistant. It doesn’t pay much but keeps this roof over our head and food on the table. Thank goodness, or I’ve no idea where we’d be. I just want the world to know Bird has a son, Your Highness.”
“Please, call me Stephen.”
“I don’t want to be a charity case. If the military would just recognize Bird’s paternity, I’ll have the orphan’s benefits.”
“Let me see to it. And, as a favor to me, for my mate Bird O’Connell, I’d like to pay for his education.”
She cracked with a hard sob, hand to her mouth, pressing her forehead to Stephen’s shoulder. “Everything Bird said about you is true. Absolutely true.”
Stephen fumbled with an awkward pat on the woman’s shoulder, then settled his hand on her back and shared her sorrow.
Through the kitchen window, he could see Baby Bird in the yard with a couple of boys, trying to toss the thick rugby ball like an American football, sloshing through the mud. Oh the way of little boys. He’d figure a way to make sure Agnes had a grand washing machine and dryer.
“Agnes.” Corina had returned, silently moving into the conversation. “My twin brother, Carlos, died the same day.” Agnes raised her head, drying her cheeks with her hand. “He served in the Joint Coalition with your Bird. With Stephen. I still miss him. My parents . . . I don’t think they’ll ever be the same.”
“Love, I’m so sorry.” Agnes flowed from Stephen’s shoulder to Corina’s, and for a long time, the women wept and embraced. Healed.
The back door slammed, Baby Bird returning, his little footsteps thudding against the old hardwood. “Did you know my Da?” He tugged on Stephen’s hand.
“I sure did. He was a good mate.” Stephen swung Bird’s son up into his arms, burying his face against his small, little-boy shoulders. Which at the moment seemed broader and more manly than Stephen’s own.
“I can’t breathe. Let me go.” Baby Bird squirmed, kicking to be free. “I’m not your doll.”
