The Second Time Around

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Children's Program

While the adults were at dinner, the children participated in their own group activities.

Dr. Patel, the therapist who worked with the kids, had set up what she called a "feelings circle" a bright, colorful room filled with art supplies, pillows, and toys designed to help kids express themselves.

Lily Vanderbilt had never been one to hold back.

"Hi! I'm Lily! I love butterflies and unicorns and my mommy is the best mommy in the whole entire world!" She bounced onto a rainbow-colored cushion with the kind of unselfconscious joy that only children possessed.

The other kids stared at her, some with envy, some with confusion.

"I like you," said Oliver Westbrook, who was eight and had his father's brown eyes and his mother's gentle smile. "You're loud."

"Thank you! My brother says I'm too loud, but my dad says there's no such thing as too loud when you're happy."

"Your dad sounds nice," Oliver said, and Lily beamed.

Ethan Vanderbilt sat quietly, analyzing the other children like they were an equation that needed solving.

He was beautiful in the way that intelligent children often were sharp-eyed, serious, already assessing the world with a level of understanding that his age shouldn't allow.

"You're very quiet," said Theo, the youngest Westbrook. He was six, shy, hiding behind his older brother. "Don't you like us?"

"I don't know you," Ethan said simply. "Liking is dependent on knowing. It's not logical to feel affection for strangers."

"Do you like your mom?" Oliver asked.

Ethan paused. "Yes. I like my mother."

"Why?"

"Because she's smart. Because she sees me. Because when she looks at me, she actually looks instead of just looking through me."

Dr. Patel was taking notes. This was good material.

"My mom used to look through me," Oliver said quietly. "Like I wasn't really there. But this week she's been different. She actually listens when I talk."

"My dad," Lily said, her voice suddenly soft. "My dad looks like ice. But he's not. He's just scared. And my mom figured it out."

"How?" Dr. Patel asked.

"She died," Lily said matter-of-factly. "And she came back."

The other kids stared at her.

"That doesn't make sense," Ethan said. "People don't come back from being dead. Biologically, it's impossible."

"I know. But she did. And so she knows that nothing matters except the people you love. And she's telling everyone else that. I think it's working."

Dr. Patel looked at Lily with new understanding. This child had experienced something profound. She'd absorbed her mother's second-chance wisdom and made it her own.

"Can I tell you guys a secret?" Lily asked. "I used to be jealous of my mom's phone. Like, more jealous than of toys. Because her phone got more of her attention than I did. But now she doesn't look at her phone during dinner. And she plays with me. Like, really plays. She's not just half-listening."

"That sounds nice," Oliver said wistfully.

"It is nice. But I wish we hadn't had to almost lose each other to figure it out."