“We’ll stop in on the way back,” he told Shaun as he buckled him into the backseat.
They drove through the quiet of Mill River, their vehicle seemingly the only one on the road but for a trundling school bus, its yellow paint a shining reflection of the sun. When they arrived at the hospital, Evan unloaded Shaun’s walker, and they made their way inside the glass building. They found the pediatric therapy department without any trouble. A woman with wispy gray hair pulled back tight into a bun met them in the waiting room after Evan checked in with the desk.
“I’m Dr. Doris Netler, pleased to meet you both,” she said, first shaking Evan’s hand and then Shaun’s.
Dr. Netler led them down a short hallway. “I don’t have a lot of time to spare this morning, but I definitely can give you a short tour,” she said over her shoulder.
“Thank you,” Evan said, taking in the colorful posters and paintings that adorned the walls. Even with the cheery atmosphere the hospital staff had tried to create, it still felt as if he were being pressed beneath a giant thumb. The last time he’d been happy in a hospital was the day Shaun was born.
Dr. Netler introduced them to the head of the pediatric-therapy department as well as the speech pathologist who would be Shaun’s therapist for the summer. When Dr. Netler opened the last door on their tour, Shaun let out a yell of happiness.
“And this is our therapy gym,” she said, stepping inside a room with a padded floor, a zip line running along one wall, and a giant ball pit filled with every color of the rainbow.
“You remember this, buddy?” Evan asked.
Shaun bounced with excitement in his arms.
“Would you like to play for a few minutes?” Dr. Netler asked Shaun. He nodded and she laughed. “You can put him in the ball pit if you like. Before you leave, stop by the admission desk and set up his appointments as well as your insurance program.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Evan said. “Just one more quick question. You wouldn’t be able to recommend any good personal-care assistants, would you?”
“Absolutely. Becky Tram works part-time in OT and is a PCA on the side. I’ll let the desk know, and they’ll give you her information.”
“We’re a little out of the way,” Evan said.
“I’m sure she won’t mind. Where are you staying?”
“The island ...” Evan searched for the nickname Jacob had said the day before. “The Fin.”
Something flashed across Netler’s eyes. It was there and then gone like a bird’s shadow on the ground. She smiled. “I’m guessing she’d still be able to help, but you’ll have to ask her. Take care, guys.”
Without another look, Netler left the room. He watched her go, and stood still for a moment after the door closed behind her.
“Dere?” Shaun pointed toward the ball pit.
“There,” Evan said, still looking at the door, then lowered Shaun into the large playpen.
~
They spent the rest of the morning grocery shopping and exploring the shops along Main Street. They stopped at a quaint coffee shop with a great view of the lake. Evan got a large dark roast, and Shaun, a small hot chocolate that he drank through a straw once it was cool enough. A little boy, no older than five, wandered over to their table on the patio, a green balloon clutched in a chubby fist. He stared at Shaun, who sat in a chair pulled up next to Evan’s. Shaun smiled and reached toward the floating balloon.
“Hi there,” Evan said, and glanced over the boy’s head at a woman who must’ve been his mother ordering a drink at the counter.
The boy examined Shaun and tilted his head when Shaun made an excited sound.
“What’s wrong with him?” the boy asked.
Evan was figuring out a response when the boy’s mother grasped her son by the shoulder, guiding him away.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shoving the boy toward their car parked along the sidewalk.
Evan smiled halfheartedly. “It’s okay.” He didn’t think she heard him. The mother admonished the boy in hushed tones as she stowed him away inside the car.
“It’s okay,” he repeated, and stroked the side of Shaun’s face.
When they finished their drinks, they stopped at a liquor store near the landing, and Evan picked up a few bottles of cabernet sauvignon. They were unloading the van when Jacob came out of his store and made his way to them down the ramp, his face one big smile.
“There ya are. Missed ya this mornin’.”
Evan shook hands with the older man.
“And how’s Shaun t’day?” Jacob said, stooping beside the minivan. Jacob held out a hand that Shaun managed to slap lightly. “Aye, you got it! Lemme help ya with yer things,” Jacob said to Evan.
The two men loaded the groceries and wine into the pontoon while Shaun watched. The lake was a mirror, flat blue stretching out beyond sight. A pair of loons paddled by the docks, their pointed black heads dark against the contrast of the water.
“Beautiful day,” Evan said, slamming the hatch of the van.
“Yessir,” Jacob said, leaning against the vehicle.
“Fishing been good?”
Jacob tipped his head back and forth. “So-so. Been better years before, might improve in a weeks’ time.”
Evan waited a few beats, trying to find the right way to ask the questions that had needled him since he opened the refrigerator at the house.
“Can I ask you something, Jacob?”
“Aye, boyo.”
“What do you know about the last caretaker Jason had at the house?”
Jacob sucked on his lower lip for a few moments before replying. “Name was Bob, I believe. Di’n’t come ta town too often, stayed mostly on the Fin. Quiet fella.”
“And you didn’t see him leave this spring?”
Jacob shook his head. “Di’n’t know nothin’ was askew till Jason called an I went out there ta check. Shamed ta say I di’n’t inspect too much, just poked around the house a bit, saw he wasn’t there, an told Jason.”