Morningside Fall(105)
There was some discussion of the change in the Weir, a comparing of notes, though that proved of little use. What had caused it or what it meant remained a mystery to them all. Only, neither Lil nor Elan recalled having heard the Weir make the strange noise; Wick managed a fairly good impression of the uncanny “Spshhhh. Naaaah” – but no one recognized it.
Soon after they’d finished eating, Wren began to nod. Cass acted, and escorted him back to their room, and Painter took the opportunity to excuse himself as well.
There were still things Cass needed to discuss with Lil and with Gamble, but Wren didn’t want to be left alone.
“Can I stay with Painter for a little while?” he asked.
“I don’t think that’d be a good idea, sweetheart,” Cass said. “Painter might like to have some time to himself.” She tried to couch it in terms of what would be good for Painter, but in reality, she didn’t like the idea of leaving Wren alone with him. Not since his disappearing act.
“Just until you come back, I mean.”
“I can stay with you until you fall asleep, if you want.”
“He’s not going to hurt me, Mama,” Wren said. He looked at her with his big sea-green eyes, and they were steady and determined. “And I think it might help him. He talks to me sometimes.”
Cass still didn’t like the idea; Painter hadn’t really seemed himself lately, not since he’d confirmed Snow’s identity. But it was true he’d never shown any signs of doing any of them harm. On the contrary, he’d gone out of his way to aid them, and lost his home for it. And maybe he would open up to Wren. If it helped Painter get a hold of himself, it’d be worth it. Even if not, maybe it’d at least give them some insight into what was going on with him.
“We can ask,” she said. “But it’s his decision.”
Wren nodded. They crossed the hall and Cass knocked lightly, half-hoping Painter would be asleep already, or at least wouldn’t answer the door. But she heard him stir, and then the door cracked open. The room was dark, and he peered out with his glowing eyes.
“Didn’t wake you I hope,” she said.
Painter shook his head. “Not sleepy.”
“Wren was just wondering if you’d like some company for a little bit,” Cass said, wording it so it didn’t sound like she needed him to watch her son. She tried to give Painter every out to say no. “I figured you might want to be alone, though, and Wren understands. But I told him we’d ask, just in case.”
“No, sure,” Painter answered. He opened the door a little wider and stepped back. “It’d be n-n-n, it’d be nice.”
Cass gave it one last shot. “Are you sure? I know you’re exhausted, and it’s not going to hurt our feelings if you say no.”
“It’s no prrr-roblem. Really.”
Cass nodded, hoping her disappointment wasn’t too apparent. She turned to Wren and put her hands on his shoulders, turning him to face her. “Half an hour. Then to bed.”
“How about an hour?” he asked.
Cass sighed. She’d often wished that Wren had been more assertive; now she kind of missed the days when he’d just do whatever she asked without arguing. “Forty-five minutes. I’ll come back and check on you.”
Wren nodded. She bent down and kissed him on top of the head. Wren went into Painter’s room and sat on one of the beds, where Painter’s backpack was.
“Make sure he stays out of trouble,” Cass said.
“Yes, ma’am,” Painter said. Then he asked Wren, “You want the light on?”
“No, that’s OK. Unless you want it.”
Painter turned back and stared at Cass. After a moment, he cocked his head slightly and his eyebrows went up. Cass finally realized he was waiting for her.
“Alright,” Cass said. “I’ll be back in a little bit to get him.”
Painter nodded. Cass lingered a few seconds longer.
“I’m not g-g-going to rrrr-run off with him or anything,” Painter said softly.
Cass felt embarrassed, as if he’d guessed her mind. She gave a little laugh. “No, I know, of course not. I’m just… being a mom, I guess. Have a good time.”
“You too,” Painter said.
“I don’t know about that,” Cass said with a chuckle, and then she waved at Wren, who gave her an emphatic go away already look. “See you in a little bit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Painter repeated, and he closed the door. It clicked shut, automatically locking. It took an effort for Cass to turn away from the door and to start walking back down the hall. He’d be fine. Just being a mom, indeed.