She laughed again and slid into the passenger seat. “It’s a saying that’s from way back in the 1900s—traveling circuses used it to indicate the season was officially starting.”
“Cool,” he said after a beat. “Let’s get this show on the road, Papa.”
I laughed, closing Ren’s door and then Matteo’s before I slid behind the steering wheel. The drive to Lucky would take close to an hour, so I settled in for what I expected to be a quiet drive.
My son had other plans. “What’s your favorite color, Ren?”
“It’s red,” she answered with a smile. “What’s yours?”
“Green!” He shouted the answer so loud it echoed inside the vehicle. “How about food?”
She turned with a grin. “Lasagna. I could eat it every single day.”
Matteo groaned. “I love lasagna, but I could eat burgers every day. With lots of ketchup and mustard.”
“Pickles?”
“No way!” He shook his head dramatically. “Pickles are gross.”
“Even though they’re green?” she asked, biting back a smile.
That gave Matteo pause. “I like the color but not the taste.”
She shrugged but still offered a kind smile. “That means extra pickles for me.”
He fell silent for a few minutes before he picked up his interrogation. “Ren?”
“Yes, Mattie?”
“Do you have a favorite animal?”
She gave the question careful consideration before she answered. “I do. I love pigs. They’re so cute and they’re really smart.”
“They are?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yep. Super smart. What’s yours?”
“Ilovedinosaurs,” he answered in a sing-song voice.
“Dinosaurs are amazing. Can you imagine anything that big?” She sighed heavily and shook her head. “T. rex?”
“Nope, velociraptor.”
“Oh,” she laughed. “That’s a good one. They were also incredibly smart.”
The drive continued in this comfortable rhythm of Matteo asking questions and Serenity happily answering them before volleying them back to him. Bridges were being built with simple facts. My son was being a child, completely ignorant of the looming danger.
“Ren,” he said again, a question in his tone.
“Yeah, Mattie?” She turned around to give him her full attention.
“My mom is dead,” he sighed heavily. “That’s why she’s not here and why I need you.”
For her part, Ren nodded, a sad expression darkening her beautiful features. “I heard, and I am so very sorry for your loss, Mattie. I lost my mom about ten years ago, and it still hurts. Sometimes when I’m having a really good or really bad day, I want to call her, and then I remember…”
“And then what?” Matteo asked, leaning forward to avoid missing a word.
“And then I get sad all over again. Sometimes I cry, but mostly I just tell her anyway. It makes me feel closer to her.”
