A Kaleidoscope of Butterflies - Christina Lee Page 0,4

Which only ratcheted up his attractiveness. Bastard. He’d make some girl gloriously happy someday. But for now, Rhys’s plan was to keep his best friend from completely falling apart.

Rhys clapped his hands. “Now for my gift!”

Emerson shook his head as Rhys handed his wrapped box to Sam. “You’re like one of the kids.”

Rhys stuck out his tongue to prove his point as Sam’s eyes lit up, something he hadn’t seen in weeks.

Sam painstakingly pulled off the bow, then the colorful wrapping paper as Audrey hurried him along.

Upon first inspection of his gift, Audrey seemed confused while Sam released a gasp.

Rhys felt the need to explain. “It’s—”

“Ladybug larvae!” Sam announced before sputtering out biology facts about how ladybugs go through their metamorphosis.

Sam sprang from his seat and threw his arms around Rhys’s waist. Rhys laughed and rubbed his head as Emerson and Audrey looked more closely at the habitat that came with the kit.

“Ewwww, that’s gross,” she declared.

“Is not,” Sam countered, reaching for the box. “I bet you didn’t know that ladybugs eat aphids and help farmers with crops, which in turn helps the environment.”

“We don’t even live on a farm!” Audrey remarked and then backed away when Sam tried to offer her a closer view of the larvae.

“I plan to have a garden this summer. Emerson said I could.” His hand swung wildly toward his brother. “And maybe even compost,” he added, like he was a thirty-year-old biology professor instead of a seven-year-old science whiz. Rhys felt his heart grow a little thicker in his chest.

He hoped Mrs. Rose would have approved of his pseudo big-brother skills. In fact, he found himself wondering that a lot. He hadn’t realized how much of a second mom she’d become to him, and he felt the loss in the marrow of his bones.

The warmth of Emerson’s hand landed on his shoulder, the weight and size he’d come to recognize. His fingers weren’t as calloused as his own, but they were strong and sure most of the time—at least at times like these.

“Way to show me up,” Emerson murmured, and when Rhys turned, his friend wore a watery smile. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The raw gratitude in his voice made Rhys shiver.

“Where did you even find such a thing?” he asked.

Rhys smirked. “You might’ve heard of something called the Internet?”

Emerson pushed at his shoulder playfully.

“Did you know a group of ladybugs is called a loveliness?” Sam asked, pushing his glasses up his face as he carefully removed the habitat from the box.

“Seriously?” Emerson asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No way,” Audrey scoffed.

Rhys lifted his phone to ask Siri the question. When the device repeated the information, Audrey gasped. “That’s pretty cool. What does it mean?”

“It means that something is…” Rhys shrugged. “Lovely. Charming. Pretty. Hell, I don’t know.”

Audrey scrunched her nose. “But they’re just gross bugs with too many little legs.”

“Are not!” Sam blathered on about the color of their shell and how their spots formed to ward off predators until Audrey’s eyes glazed over and she told him he was talking too much.

But Rhys thought the kid’s brain was amazing, and he hoped both kids would prosper despite losing their parents.

“Audrey,” Emerson warned. “Don’t rain on his parade.”

“In about three weeks, Sam will have to decide where to let the ladybugs go.” Rhys thought of the pretty views he’d seen on hikes. “I know a couple of cool places.”

“Hopefully not at the top of Otter Cliff,” Emerson muttered, referring to the popular seaside structure Rhys hoped to climb one day in Maine’s Acadia National Park. Any mention of Rhys partaking in anything adventurous was a source of worry for Emerson, especially after his parents’ death, so he definitely wouldn’t push it.

Sam’s finger tapped his chin. “Ladybugs love geraniums, and we have those in our backyard.”

“We do?” Emerson asked, his gaze darting to the window.

“Uh-huh. Mommy and I planted them—” He stopped abruptly and blinked fast, as if to ward off any stray tears.

When the room grew silent, Emerson shut his eyes and sighed heavily, like someone had just laid heavy armor on his shoulders.

“We can plant them every year. For Mom,” Audrey said thickly as she patted her brother’s shoulder and stepped soundly into her big-sister shoes. “And the ladybugs.”

They still fought bitterly like any siblings did—not that Rhys would know—but he always noticed the softness in her eyes if she ever pushed too far and hurt her brother’s feelings.

Emerson kissed the top of her head and then began clearing dishes from