Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy #1)(63)

Addison frowned at that. “Stella gave him the first one?”

“That’s what he said,” Gabe said. “Stella told me the night of the storm that one of them was from her.”

Addison slid off the dryer to the floor, fully dressed. “That’s . . . interesting.”

“How so?”

“She said that he’s afraid of the dark and wants to be sure he has flashlights with him all the time and needs more than one in case they run out of batteries. But he’s only worried about it when none of us are with him.”

“That’s only day care,” Gabe agreed. “Otherwise it’s you, Mom, Logan, or me all the time.”

Addison nodded. “I guess it just sounded funny to me. It’s probably nothing.”

Gabe didn’t look convinced. At all. “I think we need to talk to the kids.”

“You sure you want Stella and me there?” Addison asked.

“I think Stella makes him brave,” Gabe said. “Maybe that will encourage him to tell me what’s going on.”

“You don’t think he’d tell you anyway?” Addison asked.

“Apparently not,” Gabe said drily.



“Hey, guys.” Gabe tried to keep his voice normal and easy as he and Addison stepped into Stella’s bedroom where she and Cooper were coloring a sign that said BOYS AND GIRLS OF THE BAYOU.

“We don’t have to go yet, do we?” Cooper asked immediately. “We’re not done yet.”

“Nope, we’re not going yet,” Gabe assured him. “But Addison and I were talking, and we wanted to ask you guys something.”

He and Addison each took a seat on the floor. Addison leaned back against Stella’s bed, and Gabe propped up against the wall by the window. They didn’t want to intimidate the kids or make this a bigger deal than it really was, but considering they didn’t know what was going on, it was hard to hold back from demanding to know what was with Cooper and the flashlights.

Dammit, he’d wondered. His kid suddenly collecting flashlights? It seemed . . . off. He’d told himself not to worry. It was harmless. It was practical, even. It was always a good idea to have a flashlight handy.

But five-year-olds weren’t supposed to be practical. They weren’t supposed to think about things like the lights suddenly going out or emergency preparedness.

Gabe felt the tension in his neck and worked to relax as he glanced over at Addison.

She was a couple of feet away, out of reach, but just like at the support-group meetings, she met his eyes and gave him a smile, and he knew what she was thinking—this was good, and they were in it together.

“What do you want to know?” Cooper asked him, setting down his markers and focusing on Gabe.

Gabe smiled slightly at his son’s inability to do two things at once. “Day care,” Gabe told him. “We were just wondering what you both like about where you go to day care. We were wondering if you like the same things or different things.”

That wasn’t 100 percent accurate, but it would start the conversation.

“I like my day care,” Stella said, making the word GIRLS a bright, bold yellow color.

Bright and bold. That was Stella.

“What do you like the best, Stell Bell?” Addison asked.

“They have a million markers,” she said. “And lots of clay. And we do art every day.” Stella didn’t even look up.

Addison nodded. “How about you, Cooper?” she asked. “What do you like at day care?”

“I like the markers, too,” Cooper said, looking at Stella. “And story time.”

Yep, Gabe knew that. He felt a little better. Cooper loved books, and he’d always said that Miss Linda, the head of the day care, did great voices when she read them stories.

“And what do you not like, Stella?” Addison asked.

Stella shrugged. “Quiet time.”

Gabe couldn’t help but grin at that. He shot Addison a look, and she gave him a little eye roll and a smile. “How about you, bud?” he asked Cooper.

Stella’s head came up at that, and she looked at Cooper.

Cooper frowned at the paper in front of him. “Quiet time,” he said.

Gabe watched his son for a moment, but Cooper didn’t say anything more. And that bugged him. Cooper not liking quiet time didn’t fit. Quiet time, Gabe knew, involved lying down on mats for about thirty minutes. Some of the kids napped, but if they didn’t, they could listen to music on little headsets or look at books. But they couldn’t talk, and they couldn’t get up and run around. Cooper should love quiet time. Books, music, being left alone.

They did turn the lights down, though. It was in the middle of the day, so the room would hardly be completely dark, but was that the issue? It didn’t make sense that Cooper would be afraid of the dark, but it could be that he couldn’t see his book well enough and felt he needed the flashlights for that.

Something about that didn’t feel right, though.

“Why don’t you like quiet time?” Addison asked Stella, her eyes on Gabe.

Gabe loved her so freaking much. The enormity of that hit him hard. He’d always known that he would like to have someone to parent with. His mom and Logan were huge helps, of course, and his mother loved Cooper with all her heart. But there was something different about having someone who was going through the same things at the same time. Caroline was Cooper’s grandmother. That was simply different, no matter what actual things she did for Cooper. Having Addison there, supporting and encouraging him, was a big deal. But what was really staggering was how amazing it was to have Stella in Cooper’s life. A sibling. Someone who got him in a way no one else in the family could.