Free Under a Summer Sky by Nan Rossiter Page A

his cheeks.
    Hearing the commotion, Asher came running with Halle at his heels. “I’m not too old,” he shouted. “Do me! Do me!”
    Laney and Noah left their next to youngest son in a heap on the floor, still trying to catch his breath, and circled their arms around their youngest son, who was already giggling. They started to sing, and Halle jumped up on them, wanting to join in on the fun. As they reached the famous finale, Laney looked up and realized E was standing solemnly in the doorway, wearing his black dress pants and a white shirt and with his jacket draped over his arm. He smiled wistfully, remembering the simpler times when he was the one being swung in the safety of his parents’ arms.
    “Hi, hon,” Laney said. “How did it go?”
    Noah looked up too, and they gently laid Asher, still giggling, on the floor with Halle on top of him.
    “It was nice,” he said with a sad smile. “Chloe’s a little better. I had no idea she had such a big family. Her grandfather was the second oldest of nine, and they all still live up near St. Johnsbury. Two of his brothers and one of his sisters spoke. I guess her grandfather was pretty mischievous when he was a kid. The stories were funny. They made everyone laugh, and it seemed . . . less sad. Even Chloe smiled when her great aunt told a story about him being chased by a Tom turkey when he was little.”
    Laney smiled. “When people recall the good times and the light someone has brought to their lives, it definitely helps ease the sadness.”
    E nodded. “It’s funny. I never met him, but after today, I feel like I did.”
    Laney smiled. “Did Chloe come back with you?”
    “No, she’s staying up there for a few days. She wanted me to stay too, but I told her I couldn’t miss work. I think she was glad I was there today though.”
    “I’m sure she was,” Laney said.
    Elijah pulled his tie free. “Well, I’m going for a run. Is Gabe around?”
    “No, he’s not home yet,” Noah said, glancing at his watch. “In fact, I have to go pick him up, but I think he went running this morning anyway.”
    “Supper will be ready soon,” Laney added.
    “I’m not hungry,” E said, unbuttoning his shirt.
    “I am,” piped Asher.
    “Me too,” added Seth. “What are we having?”
    “Spaghetti,” Laney said with a smile, knowing the menu would be well received.
    “Yay!” they both cheered.
    “How soon?” E asked, his interest peaking a little at the mention of his favorite dish.
    “How soon can you be back?”
    “An hour?”
    “We can wait . . . if I can hold off the hungry masses,” she said, eyeing her two youngest sons.
    “An hour?” Seth groaned. “I can’t wait that long. I’m hungry now. Can I have a Pop-Tart?”
    “How about an apple?” Laney offered.
    “I’ll have an apple,” Asher piped. “Can you cut it up, Mom?”
    “I just want a Pop-Tart,” Seth mumbled, reaching for the knob of the cereal cabinet, hoping she wouldn’t say no, but his mom was busy talking to his brother again, so he took advantage of the opportunity to slip a silver foil package from the box with one strawberry Pop-Tart left in it.
    Ten minutes later—after Noah had left to pick up Gabe, E had headed out for his run, Seth had stolen furtively up the stairs with his Pop-Tart, and Asher was contentedly sharing apple slices with the dogs and watching Harry Potter —Laney filled her big pasta pot with water. As she did, she looked out the kitchen window and noticed the same grayish brown birds she’d seen earlier flying from the scrub pine up to the back of the woodshed. She set down the half-filled pot, typed “small gray bird with flickering tail” into the search box of the family computer, and clicked enter. The first site that came up was the Cornell Lab of Ornithology’s allaboutbirds.org. She clicked on it, and several pictures of flickers came up. She frowned and tried again, this time deleting the word flicker and typing in “white breast.”