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Wes was currently in a tree. It wasn’t his favorite tree- the tall oak in the field a few kilometers from the house- but this one was good enough. This tree was a few yards from the garden and still tall enough that he could see the clouds. He missed his tree- because deep down it was his tree- but Martin and Jon didn’t like it when he wandered off on his own so he stayed close to the cottage for them. Now he sat on one of the sturdy branches and watched as the clouds lazily drifted by. He wasn’t sad, or angry, or anything he could figure out. His feelings all blended together like the colors of the sunset, so he sat in his tree and waited.
He liked the way things were now, just him and his dad’s and their little house in the fields. He liked watching the thunderstorms from the porch and his little star nightlight and not having to be alone all the time. He didn’t want a sister. Emma was nice of course, she liked playing tag and would tell him stories about her friends, but Wes was never fond of change. How long until Jon would stop reading him bedtime stories or Martin would be too busy to have tea and watch cartoons? How long until they forgot all about him and Wes would be alone again. So he sat in his tree, with his blue-pink-yellow sunset of emotions and watched the clouds drift by.
Wes was so caught up in his feelings that he didn’t notice Martin had joined him. His dad sat a few branches lower, holding tightly to the trunk of the tree with a ziploc bag in one hand.
“Hey kiddo. You’ve been out here a while so I brought you lunch.”
Wes hooked his knees over the tree limb and flipped so he was hanging upside down, eye level with Martin. Wes knew he wouldn’t fall but Martin’s eyebrows still did that concerned little crinkle that happened when he was worried. Wes accepted the sandwich as Martin, hands free, climbed up another branch and took a seat.
“Hi.”
“What’s on your mind, luv?”
Martin pulled his little poetry book from his pocket and tapped the page thoughtfully with his pen. Jon said that sometimes it was easier to talk when you didn’t have to look at someone’s face, which Wes appreciated greatly. He took a thoughtful bite of his sandwich before answering.
“The sunset colors.”
Martin gave a small hum, “And what about the sunset colors”
“Well they all start blue, but then they start blurring and changing until there’s nothing left but nighttime. They always go away and what if one day they don’t go back to being blue”
“But they do,” Martin reassured, he knew his son well enough to have an idea of what was going on, “even after the rain and the night, the sky changes but we always know what will come after.”
Wes gave a noncommittal hum and Martin carried on, scribbling some words in his little notebook.
“You remember that movie we watched a few weeks ago, where Wednesday and Pugsley didn’t want a new baby in the house. But their mum and dad didn’t love them any less…”
He paused and took a deep breath, “Jon and I aren’t going to love you any less sweetie. Yes some things will change a little but it will be just like when you moved in, we’ll take some time and find a new routine. I promise.”
Wes gave a little sniffle, he could feel his eyes get wet as all the sad-angry-lonely-hurt welled up in his chest. He let himself drop down a branch and curled up next to his dad.
“The clouds look like butterflies.” He pointed up through the leaves and Martin gave a small laugh.
“Well look at that,” Martin pressed a kiss to his forehead, “they do indeed."