Mommy Mouse (sequel to City Mouse)

Chapter 19: Doubt

Leo was uncharacteristically sullen and uncommunicative over the weekend, but both Mouse and Henry assumed it was because of Henry's horrible outburst. Henry apologized, of course, but it didn't seem to help much.

"Leo, come here," Henry called as soon as his son appeared Saturday morning.

Leo obediently approached his father, who was sitting on the sofa.

Not mine? flashed through Henry's head, and he banished the thought. He held his arms out, and Leo climbed in his lap, while Mouse watched them from the kitchen. Leo sat stiffly, not melting into his father's arms like he usually did. He deserved that, Henry told himself. He deserved at least that.

"Son, I want to apologize for how I spoke to you last night," Henry said, looking Leo in the eye. Leo looked back at him warily, and again, Henry told himself that he deserved nothing less. "I was upset about something, you know? Something that had nothing to do with you. Something to do with work."

Leo blinked, looking at his father with shock. This was the first time his daddy had ever lied to him in his life. Why? Why wouldn't he just say? It must be really terrible, then. Leo kept his chin firm with an effort. He was a big boy, now, too big to cry about every little thing.

He looked over his daddy's shoulder, to where his mommy stood in the kitchen, holding a steaming cup of tea. He could smell it all the way over here. It smelled like her, just one of the really nice smells he associated with his mother.

She smiled encouragingly at him, but Leo couldn't smile back. He just looked into her kind, kind eyes for a few seconds, so he wouldn't look at his daddy and start to cry. He felt his hand coming up to his mouth, and he put it back in his lap with an effort, but he could tell from how his mommy swallowed that she'd seen, and she knew that he wanted to put his thumb in his mouth. This made Leo embarrassed, because he was too big for that, too, wasn't he?

He looked cautiously back at his father, who was looking at him, searching his face for signs of forgiveness. "Sometimes things happen that we can't control, and we just get mad at the first thing we see, and last night it was you, and I'm so, so sorry for that."

Leo couldn't believe how easily the lie rolled off his daddy's tongue, how casual he was. He didn't know that the word he was looking for was glib; he was too young to have heard that word yet, but it was the word he would've used to describe his father at that moment if he'd known it. Smooth-talking, insincere, shallow. Glib.

His daddy had never, ever, lied to him about anything before, Leo thought to himself.

That he knew of.

He tried to banish the thought, to push it out of his head, but it wouldn't leave, it sat in his brain like a huge, ugly toad, or some kind of noxious, moldy fungus. It sank roots, like it was going to stay for a while. Because if his daddy could lie about this huge thing, about the fact that he might not even be Leo's daddy at all...

What else might he have lied about?

"Do you think you could forgive me for being so mean and rude to you?" his daddy asked. He ran a hand over his face, looking really tired, looking like he maybe hadn't slept very well.

"Sure," Leo replied, nodding for emphasis, trying to look and sound like he meant it. He searched his daddy's face, looking at the familiar features, the first face he could remember, the best face, the most loved.

He put his arms around his father's neck. "I love you," he said, and now he started crying. He couldn't help it.

"Oh, Leo, I love you back, son, more than anything," Henry said, squeezing the little body.