The Harder the Pain

She came to tidy up, vacuum the room, make the bed, and clean the bathroom, and Jim sometimes refused to leave. He’d sit down in a deep, cushy chair and watch her move about with the grace of a feline. She smiled at him often, and he smiled back, mesmerized with her soft gaze and gentle ways. No one had ever been as kind to him as Ada before. She tiptoed around his pain. Concerned, she saw the scared little boy for what he was, hungry for acceptance, and some measure of love. “Why can’t you be my mummy?” he once asked Ada.