Page 43 of Single Teddy
But Wesley was right. Bear needed his own room. He needed safety and security. I’d just been too much in denial to see it.
After the school function was finished, we made our way home and picked up some pizza on the way, trying to take advantage of this new food obsession in hopes it would grow Bear’s eating horizons.
“Did you enjoy today?” I asked him when we were sitting in the living room, which was thankfully empty as every tourist was busy with the Harvest Moon Festival activities in town.
“It was okay,” he said.
“Are you looking forward to releasing your candles later?” I looked at the three cups he’d decorated and smiled.
“Yeah,” he said with a sad pout.
“I can’t believe you made three when you didn’t even want to make one earlier,” I said.
Everyone said to talk to kids as if they were grown-ups, so surely there was no harm in sharing my incredulity with him, right?
“I want to make sure Mommy sees my messages.”
My smile froze for a second, and I bit back the sting in my eyes and mouth that assaulted me out of nowhere.
“I bet she’ll love them.”
“You think so?”
“Are you kidding? Look at them. They look so gorgeous, and your messages are beautiful.”
I tried to ignore what he’d written, but not because his handwriting still needed work. They were filled withI love youandI miss youandWhen are you coming back. But Wesley had convinced him to add some more positive ones. LikeI hope you’re happyandI hope you’re looking out for me and Uncle Teddy.
“Say, Bear, what do you think of us moving into a proper house? I think it’s time, don’t you?”
Bear went back to quietly chewing his pizza and shrugged.
“It’s okay, bud,” I whispered and ruffled his hair. “I’ll take care of everything.”
Somehow.
A couple of hours later, we got ready and made our way to The Outpost for a drink and to wait for the other kids to show up.
They did just before sundown, and so did Wesley, still in the same clothes but looking just as dashing as he had this afternoon.
Dashing?
Since when did I find other people—especially men—dashing?
I shelved that thought for later and approached the class on the beach. A few kids had taken their shoes off so they could walk barefoot in the sand, and I asked Bear if he wanted to do the same. He agreed, and I let him run up and down the beach until Wesley welcomed everyone and talked them through the process.
“If you make a line, I’ll light your candles, but then you have to wait, so we can all put them in the water together. Okay?” he said, and the kids followed directions.
By the time everyone had their cups lit, the moon was up, full and bright, and we had an audience of people watching and joining in with their own lanterns.
“Right. Are you ready?” Wesley asked, and Bear and I stepped up beside him. Bear placed his cups in the water. I added the third one and we watched as the tide carried them deeper into the ocean, slowly, majestically, solemnly.
There were tears in my eyes before I realized it, and it only took a hand on my shoulder to make me notice both the tears and him.
It was hard not to. He set my body on fire with the simplest of contacts.
Yet another thing I had to shelve because I didn’t know what to do with it. How to feel.
“You okay?” Wesley asked, and I nodded.
