Page 54 of Snowdrops and Winterberry
Mother Julia, who sat beside Adam, patted his hand. “Well done, Adam. You handled that brilliantly.”
“I think I am getting better at knowing what to do with children. I never interact with any.”
She squeezed his hand. “You’ll simply have to come visit us more often. We have plenty.”
He met her eyes. Feeling a little foolish for the emotional admission yet unable to leave it unspoken, he said, “I would likethat very much.”
She smiled so softly, the same smile he had learned to love almost immediately during that first Christmas with her and Lucas. “So would I.”
Philip and Layton arrived directly in front of her and dropped the leather box on her lap. They bounced with excitement. Corbin and Jason were distracted with climbing all over their father, Jason offering a running commentary and Corbin nodding along. It was the usual approach for them both.
Mother Julia opened the box. Her two oldest sons could not have looked more excited. Adam, to his frustration, was nervous again. He didn’t like feeling upended or unsure of himself.
She pulled a toy soldier out, one quite a bit worse for the wear. “Oh, Layton. This is your favorite soldier.”
“Your brother was a soldier,” Layton said, leaning against her legs.
“Yes, he was.”
“This soldier is like him. You can think about your brother.”
Mother Julia leaned to him and gave him a quick motherly kiss. “It is perfect, my little Layton. Will you keep hold of him for me?”
Layton nodded, accepting the offered toy.
She next pulled out a small bundle wrapped in cloth and tied with twine. She tugged at one end of the bow, untying it. The fabric fell open, revealing a half dozen ginger biscuits.
“Jason and Corbin insisted on those,” Lucas said. “Even they know ginger biscuits are your favorites.”
“Thank you, my sweet boys,” she said to them, though they didn’t seem to be paying much attention, busy as they were climbing on their father as if he were an obliging tree. Lucas appeared to be in heaven.
Mother Julia took the topmost biscuit and broke it in half, giving one half each to Layton and Philip. She held out the second biscuit to Adam.
“These are your treasures,” he objected.
“The people in this room are my treasures.” Just as when he’d been eight years old, her loving, welcoming smile soothed much of the ache he carried with him.
He accepted the biscuit, but he was too discomposed to eat it.
“Look at mine next.” Philip tapped the leather box.
Mother Julia pulled out a long ribbon in a pretty shade of green-tinted blue. “Is this from you?”
Philip nodded. “It was at Grandmother’s house, but it is the same color as your cloak, so it should be for you.”
“It is the same color.” Mother Julia tied it in a loose loop around her neck, almost like a piece of jewelry. “I’ll wear it like this for now, sweeting.”
Her oldest smiled broadly, clearly quite proud of himself. “Now look at Adam Grace’s.”
Mother Julia looked at him once more. “Did you put a treasure in here for me?”
He nodded. “But it isn’t anything impressive, certainly nothing that can be considered a treasure.”
“You think too poorly of yourself, my Adam. You are a remarkable person, wonderfully thoughtful, resilient, and, as I’ve been telling you for five years now, incredibly brave.”
“I try to be all those things,” he said.
“You succeed.”
