Wren is a girl mad as birds (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} ex_oiseau148) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} rooms, |
"She's getting so big. She'll be going on dates soon," Wren exaggerated. But they did grow up fast. Gus came home with big words from school every day now, and some of them she didn't even know, and she didn't know whether to feel really, really dumb, or whether to come to terms with the fact that he was growing up, and he'd know more than her soon. He was such a smart boy, with his books and his tablet, and his genus names. She'd never been very smart. But he still gave hugs, and he still curled up with her on the couch, and she'd love that for as long as she could have it.
She wasn't surprised about the cupcakes for the dogs. Evie always thought of little things like that. Tiny little details that most people would forget. And Wren forgot a lot of things, like Mother's Day, which had been lost in the haze of worrying about Luke dying, and in trying to figure out how she was going to keep him safe in this new and impossible world. She'd remembered when Gus brought in breakfast on a tray, his père in tow, and Evie's mention of the holiday made Wren reach for the two almost-wrapped presents on the covered couch.
She handed one to Daisy, so that the little girl could gnaw on a corner and tear at the paper, and she handed the second one to Evie. "We don't have to worry about droughts," she said positively. "Gus picked Daisy's out," which was probably pretty obvious without her saying anything.
