“I’m Belinda,” she continued, sitting at the table as if sticky floors and food-covered children were perfectly normal. “And I brought cookies—but I guess you’re probably too full from eating all that syrup to want any.”
“We weren’t eating it,” one said defensively. “We were throwing it.”
“Ah, much more fun than eating it, I bet. What are your names?”
The oldest, Tommy, crossed his arms. “I’m Tommy. That’s Danny. And that’s Bobby. And we don’t like nannies.”
“That’s okay,” Belinda said cheerfully. “I’m not really a nanny anyway.”
“What are you then?” Danny asked, curious.
“I’m a friend who happens to know how to make really good cookies and tell awesome bedtime stories.”
Bobby perked up. “What kind of stories?”
“All kinds. Stories about brave knights, magical animals, and kids who go on amazing adventures.”
The boys were interested, but Tommy wasn’t ready to let his guard down. “We don’t want friends. Friends leave.”
Belinda’s heart ached at the pain in his voice. “You’re right, Tommy. Sometimes friends do leave. Sometimes people we love leave, even when they don’t want to.”
The boys went quiet, tears forming in their eyes.
“But you know what I learned?” Belinda continued gently. “Just because someone leaves doesn’t mean they didn’t love you, and it doesn’t mean everyone else will leave, too.”
“Our mama left,” Bobby whispered, voice breaking.
“I know, sweetheart. And I bet that hurts so much that sometimes you feel like your chest is going to break open.”
All three boys nodded, tears flowing freely.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Belinda asked softly. They nodded. “I lost my mama and daddy when I was just a little older than you. For a long time, I was so angry and scared that I tried to push everyone away. I thought if I was mean enough, people would leave before I could get attached to them.”
The boys stared at her. “Did it work?” Tommy asked quietly.
“For a while. But I was so lonely. I missed out on knowing some wonderful people because I was too scared to let them care about me.”
