Rejected Mate's Redemption (Freda and James)

Mates 102

FREDA WHITLOCK

I watched Francisco bounce around the room with great excitement. He was gathering his books into his bag. He had woken up before I came to wake him so he had started to draw images from his school books. The drawings were slightly sloppy but I could tell that he was going to be an amazing artist someday.

He looked up at me with a wide smile. “Do you want me to run a bath, mom?” He asked and I shook my head with a smile. “No, love. I will.” He nodded and went over to his dresser, pulling out. a set of newt clothes he would wear after his bath.

He was obviously excited for the party that was happening in his school and I could not blame him. His teacher had built up his and his classmates‘ expectations to the highest point it could ever be. She had promised fun of all sorts and he said he was going to show his talent.

At first, I had been worried that his fellow children would make fun of his art, but then I comforted myself with the thought that I would be there and I would not let that happen.

I started running the bath, making sure to start with the hot water before shutting it off and then turning on the cold water. When it was just the temperature that Francisco liked, I called him in. “Cisco, come on,” I called and his small voice replied from the room. “Okay,” he said.

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A few seconds later, I heard his footsteps thudding around the room and they drew closer to the bathroom door. I dropped in his favorite bath bomb and watched as it bubbled. He loved bubbles. He loved them so much and I loved making him happy.

I looked towards the door and he was standing there, shuffling out of his pyjama pants. He had already taken the shirt off. Knowing him, it was already in the hamper. I glad he was not a messy boy. Francisco was perfect, in every sense of the damn word and I could not help how much I loved that.

“Lavender, mom?” He asked as he walked into the bathroom after 1 waved him in. “Yes, love,” I responded and he gave me a satisfied nod. “I love lavender,” he said, climbing into the bath tub. “I know, baby,” I said, nodding with a smile. He lowered himself and sat in the water, letting out a satisfied sigh. I laughed and he smiled at me. I had gotten the perfect water temperature for him once again and even though I had gotten it a thousand times before, it still made me so happy.

He fiddled around in the water, as of he was swimming. I grabbed the loofah and gently ran it over his skin, washing off any dirt.

“Mommy?” He called as I washed him. “Yeah?” I replied, not looking away from what I was doing. “You don’t like Harper’s dad,” he tentatively said, as though he knew he was touching a delicate spot for me. Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

I stopped and looked at him. “Why do you think that?” I asked, smiling softly and going back to my work. “You’re always like bubbles and lavender, but when he comes, it goes away. You don’t look happy anymore. Sometimes you even look upset or sad,” he said and I bit the inside of my cheek, wondering how I

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could distract him from this.

It was not going to be easy because he was not speaking from a one time observation. My smart boy had noticed this happening over time and I could not deny the fact that it was true. If I did that, he would most likely begin to doubt himself and his observation skills, and I certainly did not want that for him, especially at this age.

“Sweetie, not everyone feels comfortable around everyone,” I told him, hoping I would find a way to successfully filter the words to be appropriate for a six year old child. “Why don’t you feel comfortable around him?” He asked and his head tilted to the side as he watched me. That was a little habit of his whenever he was trying to figure out something that was confusing him.

“Well, he made me very sad sometime ago, when you were still a tiny, teeny weeny dot inside of me,” I said and he smiled at my choice of the last few words.

“Did you fight?” He asked, turning his back to me, so I could scrub it. “You could say that,” I said and he nodded. “With words. Of course we didn’t hit each other. It’s not okay to fight, Cisco. With words or with your hands,” I told him carefully and he turned to smile at me.

“I know, mom,” he replied and I smiled.

I heard someone come into the room. “Breakfast is ready, you two. You wanna eat in the bathroom?” Lyra asked and Francisco giggled. “Oh you think that’s funny?” Lyra asked in her playfully predatory tone she used whenever she was about to launch a playful attack on Francisco. He giggled harder when she appeared through the door.

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“I’m coming for you,” she roared and he squealed, splashing around in the tub. “No, no!” He screamed as she gripped his sides and tickled him. He laughed and tried to fight her off, but she was careful to make sure he did not slip or hurt himself while she held him. She nodded towards the door, signaling that I should go. She had probably heard my conversation with him and she had thought I was upset. I smiled at her. “Thanks,” I mouthed and she nodded, giving Francisco a break to breath and plead with her to stop her attack on his sides.

I pointed out towards his toothbrush on the island where it was sitting, signaling for her to brush his teeth when she was done. and she nodded, even though her expression was telling me she was probably wondering who takes a bath before brushing their teeth.

Francisco apparently.

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Chapter 102 FREDA WHITLOCK I watched Francisco bounce around the room with great excitement. He was gathering his books into his bag. He had woken up before I came to wake him so he had started to draw images from his school books. The drawings were slightly s**y but I could tell that he was going to be an amazing artist someday. He looked up at me with a wide smile. “Do you want me to run a bath, mom?” He asked and I shook my head with a smile. “No, love. I will.” He nodded and went over to his dresser, pulling out. a set of newt clothes he would wear after his bath. He was obviously excited for the party that was happening in his school and I could not blame him. His teacher had built up his and his classmates’ expectations to the highest point it could ever be. She had promised fun of all sorts and he sai