Page 18 of A Hero Comes Home

“Mark suffers from the typical middle child syndrome.”

Sad to say, Jake had no idea what that was, and he’d said so.

“Middle children often act out because they feel their older siblings get all the privileges and can do things they can’t just because of their age, while the younger children get more attention.”

Jake groaned. “So, what do I do about that?”

“Just give him equal attention.”

“How about Luke? What’s his problem?”

“None at all. Happy-go-lucky and mischievous as all get-out. The most like you, I suppose. He’s missing two of his front teeth at the moment, and he’s very self-conscious about it. Whatever you do, don’t mention his lisp.”

Then there were the short conversations with the boys themselves.

Matt said, “I remember you.”

“That’s good. I certainly remember you.” And the day you were born. Six pounds, six ounces. Beautiful. And I was there to “catch” you when you came out, big guy. Sad to say, I was not there for Mark and Luke’s births, being on active ops at the time. “Guess you’ve been the man of the family since I’ve been gone. Hope you’ll help me get the swing of things when I return.”

“Yep. There’s lots to learn,” Matt said.

Jake could tell that Matt was pleased at his not taking over unilaterally. As if he would! Jake had been away too often even during normal times for that.

“Will you be back in time for the scout banquet? I’ll be getting my Bear badge. Mark and Luke are only Lions, but Mark will be moving up to Wolf, if he finishes his badge requirements in time.” In a whisper, he confided, “Mark is terrible at tying knots, even with PopPop helpin’ him.”

Boy Scouts, Jake realized. Sally must have told Jake that they were in scouting, but it had slipped his mind. “When is the banquet?”

“Two weeks.”

“I should be there,” he promised and gulped at the prospect of appearing at such a semipublic event.

When Mark came on the line, the first thing he said was, “Just so you know, I can’t tie knots worth diddly-squat.”

“Diddly-squat, huh?”

“That’s what PopPop sez. Not to me, but I heard him tell that to Old Mike. I’m just dumb.”

“You’re not dumb, Mark,” he said to his clearly insecure son. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Uh-huh,” Mark replied, tentatively. Probably no one had ever trusted him enough with a secret before.

“I had trouble with knots, too. In fact, PopPop told me directly, ‘You’re never gonna be a fisherman, son, if you can’t tie a damn . . . darn knot.’ I had the hardest trouble with slipknots. Almost didn’t earn that badge.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’ll help you practice. I have a special trick for remembering the order of the ties.”

“Yay! I can’t wait till you get here,” Mark said, then confided in a whisper, “Matt is too bossy.”

By the time he got around to Luke, Jake was generally smiling.

“My birfday ith next month,” Luke said with the cute lisp Sally had warned him about. “Thammy Thmith got a python for his birfday.”

“Um. I don’t think your mother would like a snake in the house.”

“Thath what she said,” Luke said dolefully. “Maybe a little one.”

“Wouldn’t a dog make more sense?”