Jamie stepped onto the front steps and grinned ear to ear. Joan was sitting on a blanket with Brianna, Kitty, and Jehu, squealing with delight at the dog. Brianna kept commanding him to lick the baby’s face, to roll around in the dirt, to chase his tail, and it was sending Joan repeatedly into wild fits of giggles. He savored the sight and the sound for a moment before continuing down the stairs to deliver the glasses of water he carried on a tray. Claire, Jenny, Marsali, and Maggie were in Claire’s garden, and they each sighed with relief to see the water.
“Thank you, darling.” Claire pecked him gratefully, taking her glass and nearly downing it in one swig.
“Does a man good to see his lasses hard at work.” He kissed her again, louder this time, then obnoxiously kissed Jenny’s cheek (not without her roughly shoving his head away and rolling her eyes), then he stooped to get each of the girls.
I wish more people got this because some ‘low-empathy’ people are the most compassionate and sympathetic in the universe, and I hate it when that’s taken to mean ‘unfeeling and probably hostile’ when nothing could be further from the truth
Or, as my dad put it,
Sympathy: I know how you feel Empathy: I feel how you feel Compassion: is there anything I can do to help?
Tori