His brow creased. “Prayers?”
“You know, tell God thank you for the day, bless my family, goodnight?”
He shook his head. “But maybe we used to do that. With Mama.”
“Can you remember that long ago? I mean, you were pretty young.”
“I don’t know for sure. I think I remember her. I think she used to tuck me in…sometimes. I’m not sure. We watch movies sometimes, and I see a mommy tucking a boy in bed, and it seems like Mama and me. But sometimes I can’t remember what she looked like even though I have her picture.” He pointed to a bureau. “There.”
“May I look at it?”
He brightened. “Sure.”
Meredith went over to the silver-framed picture of a serious looking young woman centered on the dark wood dresser. She picked up the black-and-white photo. “She’s pretty.” Despite her words, Meredith knew she wouldn’t truly call the woman “pretty” if the boy weren’t listening. After all, every boy must think his mother pretty. “She has your coloring. Dark hair and dark eyes.”
“That’s what everyone says.” He sat up in bed as she brought the photo over.
Meredith wanted to ask how his mother had died but not right before bedtime. “Her tiara is elegant.”
“Kat has that now.”
“Right.” Meredith wondered if Mishka was jealous that his sister would be queen. How would that feel? It seemed a lot for an eight-year-old to process, but Mishka was so grown up for his age. The boy was full of surprises. Again, she knew that wasn’t a good bedtime topic. “So do you think your mother may have prayed with you before bed?” she asked again. “My mother taught me to pray when I was little. And I still do it.”
“Can you teach me?” he asked.
“I’d love to.” She sat down next to him. “Perhaps your mother is listening.” She began to pray in everyday language, slowlyspeaking one line at a time, and like a polite parrot Mishka echoed her words…until she said, “Amen.”
“Amen.” He looked up with sincere dark eyes. “Did I do it right?”
“Yes, of course. There really isn’t a wrong way to pray, Mishka. God understands our hearts even if we don’t have the right words.”
“Do you think Mama was listening?” He sounded wistful.
“I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Because she is in heaven.Right?That’s what Grandmama says.”
“I would definitely go with Grandmama on that one, Mishka.”
He smiled. “Good.”
Without asking for permission, she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Do you mind?” she asked as she sat up, but his smile was all the answer she needed. “Goodnight, Mishka. Sleep well.”
She turned off the light, but as she left the room, it felt like she’d left a tiny piece of her heart behind. Was it possible to love a small, slightly precocious, overly intelligent, motherless boy that you’d only known for a few hours? Maybe so…
.
8
Seeing the light under Kat’s bedroom door was somewhat reassuring, but it didn’t make Meredith want to knock and go into a face-to-face confrontation with the contrary child. Except that she was supposed to be the adult here.
“Kat?” she called out a bit more loudly as she knocked for the second time. “It’s Meri. I’d like to talk to you.”
When Kat didn’t answer, Meredith took that as permission to enter. For all she knew, Kat might still be lost in the woods and being pursued by ravenous wolves. But then again, Kat could probably hold her own with wild animals. Meredith cracked open the door to see the girl, still fully dressed, sitting on the edge of her bed, hands in her lap, and glumly staring at her feet. Instead of speaking her mind, which was tempting, Meredith silently prayed for wisdom and for grace.
“I’m glad to see you made it home.” She kept her voice even as she sat in the chair by the window. “I’m sure you must know your way around the countryside around here, but I must admit I was a little worried. I considered going into the woods to look for youbut figured I’d probably get hopelessly lost. You’d have ended up having to look for me.” Meredith attempted a weak laugh.
Kat looked the tiniest bit amused. Perhaps that had been her goal—lose the new nanny in the wilderness.
