Her hitched breathing is the first sign of trouble, and I look up to see tears streaming down her face. Her sobs are silent and heartbreaking, and it always tears me apart to see her so upset, especially while making no noise. It always hits me that if I wasn’t there to see it, it’s possible I wouldn’t even know she was distressed.
I start to get up, to go over to her to figure out what’s wrong, but before I can, all three Alphas spring into action.
Lincoln was already in the room, working on something on the couch, and Everett and Cash both come out of the kitchen, alarm written all over their faces. They must have heard her breathing change and come to investigate.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Cash says, kneeling down to Cora’s level. “What happened? Can you show me?”
The other two hover behind him, watching as Cora picks up the toy truck she’s been playing with. One of the wheels has fallen off, leaving it unbalanced and not able to roll right.
She bangs it on the floor, her little face red and wet as she keeps crying.
“Okay, let me see what I can do. Can I have it?” Cash holds a hand out, patience and calm radiating from him. He talks to Cora in soft, soothing tones, and it’s amazing that I don’t even have to tell him how to handle a four year old in the middle of a meltdown. This gentleness just comes naturally to him somehow.
It works with Cora, who hands over the truck and then covers her face with her hands, sobbing so hard her shoulders shake.
“I’ll be right back,” Lincoln says softly. He disappears upstairs while Cash plops down on the floor a little ways away, hunting down the missing wheel to see if he can fit it back together.
When Lincoln comes back with crayons and paper, Everett also gets down on Cora’s level. “Let’s do something else,” he murmurs. “While Cash fixes your toy. Can you look at me, ladybug?”
Cora peeks out from between her fingers.
“Good,” Everett praises. He waves Lincoln over, and they spread out the paper and crayons together. “Let’s draw a picture, all right? Something nice and bright.”
“What colors would you use for a bright picture?” Lincoln asks.
There’s a moment where it seems like Cora won’t respond.
She glances at me, and I nod encouragingly. “Go on, baby. What colors?”
That’s all she needs to reach down and pick up a bright goldenrod crayon.
“Great start,” Lincoln says. “What else?”
Watching the three of them like this makes my throat tight with emotion. They were probably all busy, probably doing important things, or at least things they wanted to do more thancomfort a sobbing, mute four year old, but here they are. Their heads bent over their respective tasks as they work on soothing her and fixing her problem.
In the time we’ve been here, each of them has developed their own ways of communicating with Cora. They all have nicknames for her, and Cash uses his exaggerated expressions to make her giggle, urging her to smile when she’s upset. Lincoln taught her simple signs and understands how it is to be quiet in a loud world. And Everett speaks to her like the intelligent child she is, regards her with quiet dignity, and treats her like a princess.
None of them act like she’s a burden, and Cora has never had to wonder for a second if she’s welcome in this house. They’ve been as open with her as they are with me, and it means more than they probably even know.
Eventually, Cash manages to snap the wheel back in place, and he grins as he rolls it back to Cora. “Good as new. Just needed a little elbow grease,” he says.
Cora claps her hands, and I watch as she throws her arms around each of the men in turn, hugging them tightly.
My eyes sting all of a sudden, and I have to look away for a while. All I can feel is gratitude, mixed with fear and longing and a dangerous kind of hope that I try hard to suppress.
Cora goes back to playing like nothing happened, and I finally let myself relax a bit. It feels good, to have people in my corner who can help her when she’s having a meltdown, and not have it all be on me all the time.
Cash gets to his feet and comes to lean over my chair, a smile still fixed on his handsome face.
“Do you have a minute?” he asks.
“Depends on what you want it for.”
His smile stretches. “I just want to show you something outside. Won’t take long.” He holds a hand out to help me up,and for a second I consider ignoring it, but instead, I put my hand in his and let him tug me to my feet.
I drop the hold as soon as I’m up though. I can already feel the stares of Lincoln and Everett, and I don’t need them to see Cash and I holding hands. I also don’t want to do that in front of Cora.
Cash leads the way outside, walking around behind the house to where garden beds have been constructed. It’s a bigger section than I was expecting. When he said he’d make me a garden plot, I assumed it would be a corner out of the way somewhere. Not this.