“An off day?” her mom called after her. “What on earth does that mean?”
Back in the kitchen, Barbara poured herself a glass of cold water, gulping it down, trying to ignore the way Caroline was hovering inside the kitchen door, peering at Cole.
“Well, is he hurt?” Caroline sounded concerned but a little disgusted, too. To her, physical pain was the only legitimate justification for any kind of outburst.
Barbara knelt down in front of Cole, smoothing the hair out of his eyes. He’d found a rubber band somewhere and was wearing it around his wrist, snapping it over and over against his skin. Not hard, but Barbara put one hand over the band so he’d stop, then lifted his chin with her other hand. Finally, Cole looked at her. His brown eyes, wet and pink-rimmed, glowed. Barbara wiped her thumb over his cheek, stained gray where his tears had turned playground dust to mud.
“Can you tell me what happened, Cole?” she asked. “With Will?”
Cole’s lower lip started to shake. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and started to rock, clamping his hands over his ears as if blocking out some horrible sound.
“Cole, stop that!” Caroline cried, rushing closer, still with the stupid baking dish in her hands. “What on earth?”
Hands over his ears, Cole dove into the crook of Barbara’s arm. She thought she might be sick. It was so awful. All of it.
Barbara wanted so badly to smack his hands down. To shout at him to stop. But she wouldn’t do that to Cole. Whatever this was, it wasn’t his fault. Something had happened to him. Stella and her house of horrors, that’s what. Barbara took a breath and covered Cole’s hands with her own, rocking him gently against her. She heard Caroline’s voice in the distance, but she needed to focus on her son. And he was so stiff in her arms. It was like holding a rusted metal coil. Barbara pressed her nose into Cole’s hair. At least he smelled right: of salt and sand and sweat. Like any other normal little boy. She put her lips against his clammy cheek and kept on rocking. Because Cole was normal, that much she knew.
“It hurt my eyes,” Cole mumbled finally. “And my ears. It was hurting my ears.”
“What hurt?” Barbara asked, trying to keep her voice calm and gentle. But all she wanted to do was scream. And all she could think about was how she was going to let loose on Stella. That woman could raise her children in whatever substandard fashion she saw fit, but how dare she let the consequences of her casual neglect injure someone else’s. “Did Will do something to you, Cole?”
“It was the way he was looking at me,” Cole whispered.
“For heaven’s sake, what way he was looking at you, Cole?” Caroline shouted, angry now.
Barbara tried not to bristle. Caroline didn’t mean to sound so harsh; she lost her patience when she was worried. She couldn’t help it. And Cole did look and sound absolutely crazy.
“How was Will looking at you, Cole?” Barbara asked him quietly.
He pulled back to look at her. Eye contact was progress. But then Cole shook his head. “Not Will.” Great. What did that mean? Aidan? Some strange boyfriend Stella had over? Barbara sucked in a little mouthful of air. “Do you know who it was, Cole?” she asked, lifting her voice, hoping that would make it sound less afraid. “Who was looking at you?”
Cole just shook his head some more.
“This is ridiculous, Barbara. How can he not know? He’s just not saying,” Caroline said sourly. Then she really yelled: “Cole, tell your mother exactly what happened this instant!”
Cole flinched and tucked himself back into Barbara’s arms. She thought about asking Caroline to leave. Imagined telling her mother that she could not speak to Cole in that tone. Not in her house. Barbara would not tolerate it. If Caroline didn’t stop, she wouldn’t be welcomed back in their home. Not ever.
Or Barbara could do much less. She could signal to Caroline to be more gentle. She could politely ask her mother not to raise her voice. But Barbara already knew she wasn’t even going to do that. She wasn’t going to do anything.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” Barbara whispered into Cole’s head and went back to rocking him. “You’re safe now. You’re here with me. Everything will be just fine.”
Barbara held Cole like that for so long, rocking him gently. The whole time she could feel Caroline’s eyes burning into the back of her head, clearly dying to tell Cole to go get a tissue, to tell Barbara to make her son get out of her lap already. Mercifully, she didn’t say a word.
At last Cole’s body loosened so much that Barbara was about to check if he’d fallen asleep, but then he pushed himself up and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “Can I watch Bob the Builder now?” he asked, as if they’d been in the middle of discussing that very thing.
“Okay,” Barbara said reflexively. Though they were ordinarily a no-TV-on-weekdays household, she would have said yes to anything. “But only for a couple of minutes.”
“All right, Mommy!” Cole cheered as he jumped up and raced happily toward the living room.
Caroline laughed harshly once he was gone. “That’s one way to be sure he’ll pull that stunt again. TV as a reward for a tantrum. Now, there’s a parenting strategy we didn’t have back in my day.”
Barbara couldn’t look at Caroline. She loved her mother. She did. But Caroline needed to go away right now, just for a few minutes. Until Barbara could pull herself together. Claw back a sense of humor and maybe some semblance of patience.