Page 18 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

It takes severe will to drag my attention off my sweet child and glance at theletterlaying neglected at my backdoor. “That I did. How long does my baby need to play in the dirt?”

“Have you not named your baby yet?”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

He whispers, “Mommy is being so aggressive, isn’t she, baby? No, I don’t think she realizes it’s setting a bad example for you.” He nods, intent. “Iknow. If Mommy doesn’t learn emotional regulation, what is baby going to do when baby is all grown up?”

Baby will, obviously, be helping Mommy hide the bodies of those who have wronged our little family.

Alexios stops my baby from eating a fistful of dirt. “I’m not sure you want to do that, tiny one. Pesticides aren’t yummy, and Mommy’s lawn has been treated. Only organic dirt for you.” Gently, Alexios tilts his face from side to side, and I watch my baby’s bright green eyes track the movements.

Swallowing bitterness, I regain my composure. “Ash Lynn.”

“Pardon?” Alexios pins Ash’s writhing hands to keep them away from his face and looks at me.

“I like the name Ash. It meanshappy. And it’s a tree that symbolizes protection. I want him to grow happy and strong.”

“AndLynn?” Alexios prompts.

I clench my fist at my side. “Biblically…it meansGod has given.” After so many years,God has givenme my baby. After I gave up, He still remembered my prayer. Putting my back to the two of them, I march up to the letter and huff. “What’s this about?”

“I wrote you a letter.”

“Wow. Appreciation, Captain Obvious.”

The butt nugget blows a raspberry against Ash’s cheek and whispers, “Does Mommy not know how to work a letter? Kids these days… No idea what acassetteis… Holding their entire palm against their ear and calling it aphone…Swipingthe pages of a book…” He tuts.

I remind myself murder is wrong and my baby isn’t old enough yet to help Mommy hide bodies…

Ialsoallow myself to remember that grace is a skill best practiced. The fae are different than everything I’m used to. Clearly, if Alexios is willing to play with a baby on his hands and knees in the dirt, he isn’tallbad.

The fae threshold for acceptable mischief is higher than a human’s.

I’m not entirely unwilling to respect his courageous attempt at trickery yesterday. Especially if he’s young and I’m his soulmate. Wanting to consume something precious is an immature craving that creates an illusion of stability.

I get that.

Really, I do.

I was stressed last night, and I’m tired this morning, but maybe I should exercise some cautious mercy. He’s not even existed for a full year. Regardless of his mental age, there are some things people don’t quitegetwithout experience. Believingthe worst of people might keep me safe, but it’s definitely not what I’ve come to understand God wants from me.

Sighing, I pull the letter out of the envelope and arch a brow at the flowing script.

I…am offended.

Alexios is less than a year old, but he can write cursive better than I canreadcursive. And I happen toteachcursive.

My dearest snowflake,

I implore you to accept this meager explanation as an apology for my behavior…

Finding you so soon in my existence is a miracle I have no intention of squandering. I am, however, overeager. My kind is bred to take. I struggle with desire and temperament. I have not known what it means to be full for as long as I have had the hormones to relay a sensation of starvation to my brain.

You are a promise from the universe to fill the aching parts of me.

Pair that knowledge with the pain, and I am desperate for relief.

I am loved.

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