Fellowship Lost, Ch. 3, Pt. 2

Something's up, Red Teller whispered from a back corner of Treece's brain.

The former Brown seldom spoke to her anymore, so she stopped what she was doing to pay attention. Unfortunately, she was in the middle of changing Asher's diaper. The youngest of the St. Lucas brood took advantage of the moment to spray her liberally with the afternoon's intake of fluids.

She fished a flannel nappy from the pile of clean laundry on the floor next to the sofa and dropped it over his tiny squirt gun. "Sheesh, kiddo, was that really necessary?"

Asher burbled and Red chuckled. Ahh, the joys of motherhood.

"You have no idea," she snapped back. She was kidding though; she loved being a mom.

Treece adjusted Ash's diaper, fastened it properly, and lifted him from the sofa cushion to her shoulder. He twined his chubby fingers in her hair and slipped his two middle fingers into his mouth.

I thought you were going to break him of that.

"Changed my mind. He's only twenty months. He's entitled to a few bad habits."

Asher nodded against her shoulder and Treece was tempted to read his thoughts, but finding out exactly what that nod meant would ruin her fantasy about his babyhood.

She felt Red scoff. Besides, he'll read your thoughts in return. Twenty months, my Brown behind. This one was never a baby.

The round little head with cherub cheeks and dark silky ringlets lifted off her shoulder to gaze at her intently.

"Yes," she murmured to her son, "he's talking about you."

Asher frowned and removed his hand from his mouth to poke at her eyes.

"Yes. The one inside."

He crinkled his nose. Did he understand already? Treece hadn't had to worry about the Red Teller issue with her first two offspring until they'd been much older. Marshal Junior had been nearly seven before he'd realized his mam was different from the mothers of his age-mates. He'd taken after his father so his psychic powers hadn't been strong enough to pick up on the signs. Grace--Gritty, as she preferred to be called--had felt the intruder lurking behind her mother's gray eyes two years earlier at age five. Treece suspected her rush-about tomboy was as strong as good old mom, but since the little girl had never had a seizure, she was most likely Brown.

A few carefully worded explanations about their mother's "alter ego" had been sufficient. Now at ages thirteen and eleven, MJ and Gritty seldom gave K. Redmond Teller a moment's notice.

Ahh, but Asher! Still months away from his second birthday, the baby with the icy blue eyes saw things much more quickly than his siblings. Saw and felt and knew much more than an infant should. Especially an infant born of a Red father and Blue mother--no matter how strong that mother might be.

Treece wrapped her hand around Ash's curious fingers and pulled them to her mouth where she kissed them, one at a time, until he giggled--all wonderment about Teller forgotten. At least for now.

"You said something was up?" she reminded Red.

Yeah. Something big. Can't you feel it?

"I sort of had my hands full," she sniped. The wet diaper was leaving a damp ring on the sofa. "Oh fiddle-faddle!" she said instead of the many less-baby-friendly options. She grasped the offending item and climbed to her feet, propping her son on her hip. The laundry pail was in the nursery. "Stop yanking my chain, Red. What's big? What's going on I should know about."

I didn't say I knew. I just feel it.

"Some Brown you are."

I was a killer, sweetie. Not a divining rod like some people I know.
  
Asher whipped his head back and forth, making the dark curls jump. She turned in time to catch his frown and see his tiny fingers slide back into his mouth.

"It's a good thing, Ash. What you can do. A good thing."

He shook his mop of hair a second time and sucked harder.

"You'll see, baby boy. One day you'll put it to spectacular use."

Was he too young for an explanation? His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "What you feel with those fingers can't hurt you, Asher. It isn't here with you. It's like the noise of a rattle. You can hear it but it's not in the room. What you see in your head isn't here either. It's already over. It can't hurt you."

The sucking slowed but he did not remove his hand from his mouth. Treece felt relief in the relaxation of his small frame, in the increased pressure of his body as he curled against her side.

He gets it, Blue. Not all of it, but a little. Keep trusting your instincts.

Treece rid herself of the wet diaper and turned to the nursery door. She was thinking about what to make for dinner when she suddenly understood what Red had been trying to tell her earlier.

"Something's up, Ash," she whispered to her son. "Feel it?"

Her baby nodded.

Told you, Red added.

She pivoted toward the crib, intending to put Asher down for a nap so she could deal with this 'big thing' alone. He clung to her shirt and clamped chubby thighs tight around her waist.

"But they're coming."

He stared up at her with wide eyes that didn't blink. Again, Treece was tempted to read his thoughts, but this time she was interrupted by a knock at the front door.

"Correction," she sighed. "They're here."