“Hannah, what on earth happened?” Barbara snapped. She’d tried to keep the accusatory edge from her voice, but it was no use. All Hannah had to do was pick him up. Was it that much to ask that she manage it without him getting hysterical?
“I’ve asked him at least a hundred times, but he won’t tell me.” Hannah sounded like she might cry, which was hardly helpful. “Will’s mom said they were playing LEGOs and Cole just freaked out.”
“Freaked out?” Barbara snapped. “Hannah, I’m sure she didn’t say that.”
“But she did.” There were tears in Hannah’s eyes now. “She said it exactly like that. That’s kind of mean, isn’t it? For a mom?”
Barbara took a deep breath and rocked Cole back and forth in her arms. That’s because Stella’s not a regular mom, Barbara wanted to say. She’s an oversexed narcissist who probably cares more about finding a new boyfriend than her own children. Stella was exactly the reason Will was so out of control. Look at Will’s brother, Aidan. One messed-up child could be a fluke; two was a pattern that could be traced right back to the parents.
“Oh well, I’m sure she didn’t mean to say that,” Barbara said, rubbing a protective hand over Cole’s head. Yes, she did, that thoughtless bitch. “Don’t worry, Hannah.” Even though you were probably too worried about pleasing Stella to stand up for your brother. “Cole will be fine, honey. He’s just tired. Now, why don’t you go ahead upstairs and get started on your homework?” That way Barbara wouldn’t be tempted to say something to her daughter that she truly might regret. “Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Are you sure he’s okay?” Hannah asked, drifting closer to Cole.
Instinctively, Barbara held him tighter, swallowing the irritation that was clogging her throat. “I’m sure, honey.”
She was willing to overlook whatever role Hannah might have had in allowing Cole to get upset. But she would not tolerate her daughter getting upset herself. Sometimes all of Hannah’s “sensitivities” seemed an awful lot like self-involvement.
“Your physics midterm is tomorrow, isn’t it?” Barbara had Hannah’s entire exam schedule committed to memory. More proof that whatever was going on with Cole wasn’t some oversight on Barbara’s part. She paid attention—it was what she did. “You need to stay focused on your classwork, Hannah. Acceptance letter or not, Cornell will look at your final grades.”
“Okay,” Hannah said reluctantly, like she was afraid something worse might happen the second she stepped from the room. She tried to meet eyes with Cole, but his face was still buried in Barbara’s neck. “I’m sorry you’re upset, Cole.” She waited a second for him to look at her.
When he didn’t, she finally drifted away. She was barely up the stairs when the doorbell rang.
“My goodness, now what?” Barbara singsonged into the side of Cole’s head, hoping she sounded more amused than worried. She put him down on one of the kitchen chairs. “Stay here, honey. I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
Not that it looked like Cole was going anywhere ever again.
Barbara tried to stand taller as she headed to the front door. Not perfect, only happy. Not perfect, only happy. Except how was that supposed to make her feel any better, when Cole did not seem remotely happy?
Through the squares of glass beside the front door, Barbara could see her own mom, Caroline, standing on their front stoop. It was Tuesday, the day her parents joined them for dinner each week. Barbara had completely forgotten. She loved her mother dearly, but having her parents there today, of all days, wouldn’t make anything easier.
Barbara forced the corners of her mouth up. “It starts with a smile!” That was Caroline’s second favorite saying, right after “Not perfect, only happy.” The truth only matters as much as you allow it, that was Caroline’s point.
“My word, that took a long time!” Caroline called when Barbara finally opened the door. Her round cheeks looked especially rosy against her red coat, but her new chin-length hair was making them seem puffier than usual. Barbara worried that her own shorter haircut was doing the same thing—inflating her. Caroline shifted the casserole in her hands and pressed a squishy cheek against Barbara’s much stiffer one. There was never a kiss, only the cheeks.
“How many times did you ring? I only heard it once.” Barbara was already on the defensive. But she needed to relax. Not take everything so much to heart. Her mother didn’t mean anything. Everything in her head just came right out of her mouth. Besides, with Caroline, reacting only served to draw attention to her most vulnerable spots. “I was with Cole in the other room.”
“Let me guess. That terrible SpongeBob blotting out the world again.”
“Cole doesn’t watch SpongeBob, Mom,” Barbara said, nipping at the bait anyway. “The TV wasn’t even on. Where’s Dad?”
“Oh, his back is acting up again.” Caroline waved an aggravated hand. “It’s all that leaning over the cars all day. I keep telling him to leave it to the boys. That’s what he pays them for, and too generously, I might add. But you know your father; he treats that business like some precious orchid in need of constant attention. They’re cars, for heaven’s sake.”
“Well, I’m glad you made it,” Barbara said, though she wished she could send her mom home to take care of her dad without offending her.
As Barbara turned back to the kitchen and Cole—whom she really needed to be worried about—a sudden shakiness nearly overwhelmed her. She had to press a hand against the wall to keep herself upright.
“Oh my, what’s wrong, dear?” Caroline stepped closer, clutching the casserole between them. “Have you not eaten today? You know how woozy you get when you don’t eat.”
Barbara forced herself to take a deep breath and pushed herself up off the wall. She’d already left Cole out there too long. “I’m not hungry, Mom,” she said as she headed toward the kitchen. “It’s Cole. There’s something— He had an off day. It’s all been a little stressful. Maybe I’m just tired.”