His Secret Child. Lee McClain Tobin
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not where milk comes from.”
“Nope, but our milk comes from cows.”
Mercedes’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t drink from a cow!”
Fern chuckled. “No, but the cow gets milked by the farmer, and then the milk gets sent to the grocery store, and then we buy it and drink it.” She hesitated. “When you were a baby, you drank from your mama just like that little puppy.” She didn’t want to upset Mercedes, but the social worker had told her it was good to refer to her biological mother naturally, in conversation. That way, Mercedes would know that her mother and her experiences with her mother weren’t a taboo subject.
“I drank from my mommy?” Mercedes asked wonderingly.
“Yes, your mommy told me she breast-fed you for a whole year. She loved you so much.”
“Yeah.” Mercedes looked thoughtful for a minute. “Hey, the puppy is biting the mommy!”
Fern was watching, too. The puppy was obviously getting some sustenance, but even to her inexperienced eye, it looked like a struggle. “Tell you what, let’s get Brownie that food. Maybe she needs more to eat before she can feed her pup.” She sincerely hoped Brownie could feed the pup entirely, both because it was better for the little guy, and because she didn’t know exactly how they’d manage the frequent feedings a little puppy would need.
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