Chapter Three-Hundred and Ten
John curled on his side, fighting back the tears that moistened his lashes. His mouth ached, the throbbing in his cheeks like a jackhammer in his jaws. "Momma…" He whimpered, his stomach growling with hunger for the mush that passed for food.
Clarissa appeared a moment later with an ice pack wrapped in a dish rag. She sighed as she helped him lift his head, placing the ice pack under his cheek. She combed his hair back, pulled his blanket higher on his side, moved his water glass a little closer to him. "Does it hurt bad?"
He nodded, taking his bandanna from under his pillow and wiping his mouth where he'd drooled a little. "Bad…"
She brushed a tear from his eyes, kissing his head as she tried to think of any way that she could help him with the pain. She sat beside him on the bed, offering to hold him like only a mother could. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, holding his head to her chest quietly humming under her breath. "Try to sleep."
Claire pushed John's bedroom door open, giggling when she saw that John and her mother were both passed out cold.
John's head was rested on her lap, his chest rising and falling with his breath. His had was wrapped in Clarissa's skirt, his face lax with contentment. His features had softened in his slumber, the furrow of his brows having loosened, the tight press of his lips relaxed, the hard set of his jaw was softer, and the circles under his eyes lighter. This was the John they all loved to see.
The happy, healthy, secure John. The one who had not a care in the world outside of his family. The John whose skin was like caramel, hair like brown silk, eyes like honey or dark whiskey. He was stronger then, when he could rely on his health more than his looks.
Thomas placed gentle hands on his daughter's shoulders, nodding to the two on the bed. "He needs something for the pain." He smiled, noticing how Clarissa's fingers moved through John's hair. "And what's better than a mother's love?"
Claire grinned as John's breath deepened, his mind falling into an even deeper sleep that only came when he felt safe in his surroundings. "I just wish he'd felt it when he was a baby…" She turned to look at her father, giving him a hug as she thought of the pain John had felt and never been comforted for.
Asher picked up his great-niece from her swing, bouncing her in his arms as he sang a quiet song to her. He smiled at her as she held his fingertip, chuckling as her green eyes shone up at him. "You look just like your mother." He shook his head, glancing up as Sara stepped into the room.