“I do.”

“Okay.”

But that was his teenage I’ll-believe-it-when-I-see-it voice talking.

She loved her kids but they were still just that—kids. They couldn’t act any older than they were. Thomas was still a teen, all stifled and unsure and searching for the right words. That indifference didn’t mean he was indifferent. He just wasn’t sure what else to be or do right now.

I don’t know what to do and I’m the grown-up.

Thomas sat down and took off his shoes. Lynn noticed how bad they looked. She knew that one of the gifts he’d asked for was something he badly needed—and desperately wanted.

If she was to start praying, it would be to ask the Lord to get Thomas some decent basketball shoes. He certainly deserved them.

Lynn glanced at her son, so tall and so timid and keeping everything he had inside. Then she glanced at her daughter, every thought expressed on her face, every emotion always a second away from unraveling.

These are my babies, the ones I nursed and promised to forever love and protect and take care of.

She wanted to tell them she was sorry. Not for losing the job, but for leaving their home. She hadn’t thought everything through. She had simply been tired and scared and she was tired of being scared.

“I’ll find something else soon,” she offered instead of an apology.

Thomas didn’t look at her, and she let him be for the moment. Sara was looking in the refrigerator, thinking only about her stomach.

Even though both of her kids were only feet away from her, Lynn felt completely alone.

In the corner of the room where an end table used to sit, the bare Christmas tree stood waiting to be adorned with lights and ornaments. It had so much potential to be beautiful, to really be something.

Lynn closed her eyes, not wanting to see the tree anymore.

She knew that she needed more than serenity at this time.

I need a little hope.

Under the Speckled Stars

Thomas slid open the door and slipped out into the night, hoping not to wake Mom and Sara.

After a few moments he exhaled. Thomas hadn’t even realized that he was holding his breath as he stepped out of the trailer until now.

He’d finished his homework and was finished reading the latest Dennis Shore novel from the library. As he walked down the dirt driveway, he thought it was nice to be in an area where he could enjoy the still black of night and the dense wilderness of the woods, even if he did feel out of touch living here in this abandoned place.

Even if Dad knew the address, he might not be able to find us.

Sometimes he felt like the trailer represented them, the remnants of the family that used to be. A structure that was just barely hanging on in a place nobody paid any attention to. As he walked the dirt road this late night and saw the dark shapes of cows in the pasture, he wondered if Mom had chosen this place just for its remoteness. They had no phone, no Internet connection. Their television didn’t even work because of something to do with a digital something-or-other. Mr. Sinclair had told them he would get them a converter box but so far he hadn’t come by with one.