Just Claire by Jean Ann Williams Page A

she saying?”
    â€œWe can’t understand you.” Daddy drew closer to Mama.
    â€œI. D-d-don’t f-f-feel. Normal.” She pitched herself into Daddy—again, crying like her heart would explode.
    If Mama didn’t stop, ClaireLee’s own heart would burst. She took a backward step and bumped into Belinda. To steady herself, she clutched her friend’s arm. “What’s wrong with Mama?”

11
    FROM EVERY STORMY WIND THAT BLOWS
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    W ith her other hand , Belinda squeezed ClaireLee’s three times.
    â€œI’m scared.” ClaireLee gripped harder.
    In a gentle motion, Belinda pulled ClaireLee into a one-arm hug. The very act released the pressure within ClaireLee’s ribs and she could breathe. It nestled her into a place safer than the stark reality of Mama’s sobs on Daddy’s chest.
    ClaireLee had lost track of Lolly, but under the table fort where the boys slept one of her siblings whimpered. As Feather wailed—adding to the chaos—Belinda left and returned to hand the baby to ClaireLee. The two friends sat on the living room bed. Waiting. ClaireLee rocked her brother. “Shh, shh, Feather, shh, shh.” Lord, help Mama. Help us all. A sob struggled to free itself from ClaireLee’s throat. She fought it and won. For now.
    Daddy guided Mama to her bed and said to her, “I’ll stay home from work in the morning, so you can rest.”
    Following Daddy, ClaireLee carried Feather in her arms. At Mama’s bedside, she positioned the baby next to Mama on the mattress. He latched on and drank fully, his grunts and gulps louder than Lolly’s muffled cries in the kitchen.
    â€œI need to step outside for a minute.” Studying Mama and combing his fingers through his bearded chin, Daddy asked ClaireLee, “Will you stay, Claire Bear?”
    Every muscle in ClaireLee shuddered. Don’t leave me alone with her. What if she cries?
    But, ClaireLee nodded, for Daddy’s eyes had filled with tears. I don’t want Daddy to cry, too.
    She caressed Feather’s head as he sighed and suckled, while Mama rested. ClaireLee gathered her courage—wanting to put aside her fear of Mama’s outburst. “You’ll feel better soon, Mama,” she said, as she traced her fingers along the soft lines of Mama’s forehead. “I just know it.”
    A tear streaked and pooled on Mama’s cheekbone.
    ClaireLee’s eyes misted. She could no longer keep her tears to herself. They spilled and sprinkled onto the baby and his blanket. What is happening to our once-happy mama?
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    M uch later , the cabin quieted with only the sounds of the river in the background. ClaireLee tossed in the bed next to Lolly, unable to chase away the frightening image of Mama falling to pieces.
    The mattress sunk, and Belinda rolled onto her elbow. “Your ma’s sure sad.”
    Right then, an idea came to ClaireLee. She slipped from under the covers and crawled out. “I’m going to stay by Mama.”
    In the shadow of the porch light, Belinda’s voice came soft. “Good.”
    Feeling her way to her parents’ room, ClaireLee knelt on the hardwood floor at Mama’s side of the bed. How can I make Mama feel better? She considered this. To do this thing, which had never before occurred to her in her thirteen years. What makes Mama glad? What does she love? It came to her, then, fluttering through her thoughts like a whisper.
    Beginning, ClaireLee sang Mama’s favorite song in a quiet soprano voice. “From ev’ry stormy wind that blows, from ev’ry swelling tide of woes, there is a calm, a sure retreat. ’Tis found beneath the mercy seat.” ClaireLee pondered what mercy seat meant, when Mama reached for her hand. They both hung on.
    Long moments passed.
    The floor hurt ClaireLee’s knees, but she snuggled between Mama’s arm and near Feather’s soft spot on his head where his heart