Chapter 67

She’d never favored teddy bears so the stuffed animals on her shelf were a fat yellow duck, a brown squirrel, a tall penguin, and an elephant too small to live up to his species. The squirrel was the fluffiest, what with that big tail, but the duck was softer. She put Bascomb back on the bed and took up Buddy the duck, hugging him to test his powers of solace.

The trouble with birds was the beak thing. How can you cuddle something with one of those, never mind it can’t actually snap or bite? Peter the penguin was the largest in the room, but he was stuffed to the point he resisted cuddling. Who needed a solid penguin? She reconsidered Simon the squirrel, but he looked new rather than loved so she turned back to Bascomb.

“You’re just on loan,” she told him, even as she knew a traumatized child wouldn’t likely part with anything handed to him at such a time. Looking into Bascomb’s face, she let him decide and found in his blue button eyes and worn smile that he wanted to help.

Back in the living room, Harley stood when she approached. Clifford had curled into himself, a tiny ball of boy now, face pink, eyes wet. “This is my good friend, Bascomb,” Jennalee said as she sat beside the boy. “He could use a hug.”

She laid the lanky rabbit beside Clifford, who unfolded enough to pull Bascomb to him. With the rabbit against his cheek, the boy closed his eyes.

Turning to Robert, Jennalee offered him a Coke. He nodded so she brought out three and they sat sipping and not talking until Jennalee couldn’t stand it. “How are you doing, Robert?”

“Call me Bob, will you?” he said. “Everyone but my parents calls me that. I like it better. It’s who I am.”

“Sure,” said Jennalee.

“You got it,” added Harley.

“So, Bob, do you play sports?” Jennalee asked.

“Lacrosse.”

“They had that at my school,” she noted. “I thought it was weird.”

“It is,” he said, taking a swig of Coke. “I wanted to go out for baseball, but Dad said lacrosse was better so I had no choice. He played it in school.”

“I see.”

“I guess if he’d played with dolls or been a cheerleader, I’d have had to go out for that.”

“Bummer.” Harley thought for a second, then continued. “I guess if my mom hadn’t intervened, I’d be fixing motorcycles instead of playing the violin.”

“You’re lucky to have that kind of mom,” said Bob.

Jennalee thought of Jane, who never pushed her into anything. It was pulling her out of stuff she had to do.

“I hope he’s dead,” said Bob. “We’re okay when he’s not around.”

Harley and Jennalee looked at each other and Jennalee saw he knew, as did she, that revealing Noel’s survival would be a mistake at this point. Bob’s was a genuine attitude, heartfelt, however awful. He deserved time with it.

“That might hurt your mom,” offered Harley.

Bob stared straight ahead. “She’d love it. She’s so different when he’s not around, singing, playing games, and talking. She loves to hear about our day and knows so much about stuff. She was top of her class at Vassar, but Dad squashes her like he does everything. Danny was brave to set the fire, but I should have been the one, being oldest.”

There was no possible reply to this. The statement settled over the room and Jennalee turned to Clifford, who had fallen asleep. Bascomb power, she thought. The rabbit looked quite content clutched in the boy’s arm.

“Are we going to sleep here?” Bob asked.

“I guess so,” replied Jennalee. “We don’t have a guest room, but this couch is great to sleep on. Back in San Francisco when I had slumber parties, a bunch of us would sack out on it.”

Just then Jane came in. Seeing Clifford asleep with the beloved Bascomb, she came over to Jennalee and tousled her hair. “Good work, my dears. Robert, you and your brother will sleep here tonight. Your mother is on her way to the hospital to be with your dad.”

“Okay,” said Bob.

Jane disappeared down the hall and returned with blankets and pillows. She spread a blanket over Clifford and laid out the rest for Bob at the sectional’s other end. “You kids can go back out if you want,” Jane said. “I can handle things here. Thanks for helping.”

Jennalee suddenly felt overwhelmed and kissed her mother’s cheek before taking Harley’s hand and pulling him away. Outside he kissed her cheek. “That rabbit is you favorite, isn’t he?” Harley said.