Suffer Little Children

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Suffer Little Children Page 4

by Freda Hansburg


  He’d called to tell her. A flood of relief told Robin that Sean’s initial omission had been preying on her mind. “Yes, your father phoned and told me. He’s very proud of you, and so am I.”

  He grunted softly, acknowledging she’d caught him. “Yeah, I had a feeling... I guess I should have told you yesterday. Just... I knew you were going to that meeting, and I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Sean! Did you think I wouldn’t be happy for you?” His concern touched her, yet Robin felt a pang of guilt. Maybe she’d leaned on him too much after the divorce.

  “Mom, I knew you’d be happy. Honest. But I worried you might be disappointed I won’t be around this summer. Am I wrong?”

  Robin sighed. They knew each other so well. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. I am sorry we won’t have more time together but not at the price of you missing out on an opportunity like this. I’m proud of you—not only about the internship but for being straight with me.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “But you’d better come home and hang out with me for a couple of weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your internship.”

  “You got it.” Relief filled his voice.

  “By the way,” she said. “Your dad mentioned you have a girlfriend.”

  “Oh.” He gave an awkward chuckle. “He told you, huh?”

  “Was it supposed to be a secret?”

  “No. I figured I’d tell you about her when I come home.”

  “What’s her name?” Robin asked. “Is she nice?”

  “Jen. Jennifer. Of course she’s nice.”

  “Is she at UMass?” Typical Mom asking a bunch of questions.

  “Yeah. She’s a psych major. Really smart. You’d like her, Mom.”

  “Where does she live? Her family, I mean.”

  “Not too far. They’re in Philadelphia.”

  Robin hesitated then jumped in with both feet. “Sean? You and Jennifer... you’re being safe, I hope?” Spoken like a mother and a nurse.

  “Ma!”

  She almost laughed at the mixture of outrage and embarrassment in that syllable. “All right,” she relented. “But be careful, dear. I’ll see you soon.”

  They ended the call. Robin sighed. A girlfriend. Her little boy had grown up. She probably shouldn’t have brought up the sex issue. They’d had the safe sex conversation before Sean left for college. But that had been hypothetical—or so she’d believed. It occurred to Robin that just because Sean hadn’t shared anything about his love life didn’t mean he didn’t have one. She saw no reason he shouldn’t have one, and he had a right to keep it to himself if he wished. She realized she’d reached a new stage in parenting and needed to adapt.

  Her phone dinged with a text from Ben.

  Hey, Bird. Got the green light for family therapy. Hope to set it up for next week.

  So, he’d stood up to Vanessa. It was about time. But Robin wondered what role Gloria Reyes might have played. She found it difficult to imagine she’d brokered the arrangement so quickly and from a distance. It’s a victory, Robin told herself. Don’t overthink it. And yet.

  She texted back a smiley face to Ben, the only response she could come up with for the time being. She toyed with the notion of going back down to the reception, having a last glass of wine, and seeing if Will Kenton might still be there. The impulse elicited a pang of guilt. Ben had finally stepped up, and there she was contemplating low-level hanky-panky with a fantasy blast from her past.

  She’d better go to bed, she decided. She wanted to stay clearheaded and get a good night’s rest for breakfast with Gloria.

  If only she hadn’t suggested they meet. She had nothing to offer the woman. Maybe she could simply message Gloria and be done with it. But then, if Gloria had gone to bat with Vanessa, Robin owed her something. It would be wrong to back out. If Sean could man up enough to face a difficult conversation with his mother, she would find the gumption to face Gloria. Resigned, Robin messaged her and suggested they meet in the hotel coffee shop at eight a.m.

  SEVEN

  ROBIN

  ROBIN SCANNED THE COFFEE shop, packed at a couple of minutes past eight. Orientation participants sported their NCI name tags, and tourists chattered over brochures for the local attractions. A harried young couple struggled to subdue a pair of unruly toddlers. At a back table, she spotted Gloria Reyes drinking coffee and waving Robin over.

  Robin resolved to keep it short and sweet as she headed for Gloria’s table. Lay out the facts, sympathize, and leave. She would try to get to the wrap-up session on time so she wouldn’t walk in late and draw attention again.

  “Morning.” Robin settled into the chair opposite Gloria’s as a waitress approached. “Just coffee, please.”

  Gloria set down her cup. “So?”

  Getting right down to business, then. Robin braced herself. So much the better.

  “I’ve kept my part of our bargain,” Gloria announced.

  “Bargain?” Robin’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I spoke to Vanessa about the therapy. I managed to be quite convincing. You see, she posted a rant on Facebook yesterday after Amber defaced a library book.” Gloria shrugged. “I seized the opportunity.”

  A bitter taste filled Robin’s mouth. Trashed library books, trashed kids on social media. She should be happy Gloria took advantage of the situation, but she wished Ben had persuaded Vanessa.

  The woman’s dark eyes fixed on her. “Now, what about your part?”

  Robin bristled. She’d made no promises. The waitress appeared with her coffee. Robin didn’t intend to stay long enough to drink it.

  “I made a few inquiries yesterday,” she told Gloria. “Formally and informally. I found no new information about Pediatric MATCH. It’s still slated to launch sometime next year.” Robin took a breath. There, I said it. “I’m sorry.”

  Gloria shook her head. “Not good enough.”

  Robin sat upright. “What?”

  “That’s not soon enough. My son’s life is at stake.” Gloria’s eyes bored into Robin’s. “You have kids?”

  “A son in college.” Robin didn’t like bringing Sean into the conversation.

  “Suppose it were him?” Gloria kept her voice low, and Robin had to lean forward to hear. “What would you do to save him?”

  The same question Robin had asked herself yesterday. Anything.

  “Or one of Ben’s kids,” Gloria continued without waiting for Robin’s reply. “But that would be different, wouldn’t it?” Her lips twisted in a mocking smile. “Convenient, even.”

  Robin sat up and pushed aside her coffee. “I have to go. I’m due at the wrap-up session.” Reminding herself that the unnerving woman had a dying child, she added, “Gloria, if I were in your shoes, I’d be as desperate as you are. Medical research doesn’t always follow the timetable we want, but MATCH will move ahead, and when it expands to include children, it will be safer, on more solid ground.” She hoped she sounded as clear as Will had last night, but either way, she would end the discussion. “I promise I’ll keep my ears open and let you know of any developments.” She pushed her chair back from the table.

  “You’ll do more than that, Robin. You’re a very responsible person. I’m counting on you.”

  Robin stood, her chair rattling. “Goodbye, Gloria.”

  “I’ll be eager to hear what you come up with.” Gloria’s smile widened, revealing her white teeth. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Robin hurried from the coffee shop to the elevator, feeling Gloria’s eyes on her back. Her face hot, she rode the elevator up to the mezzanine, where the wrap-up session would meet.

  The elevator door opened. Will Kenton stood there, waiting to enter, holding an overnight bag.

  “Good morning.” He stepped back, letting the elevator leave without him as he eyed Robin’s flushed face. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, flustered. “I—I rushed here from the coffee shop.”

  “Is the food that bad?”

&nbs
p; She grimaced. “Yes, something disagreed with me.” She glanced at his bag. “You’re checked out already? Aren’t you staying for the wrap-up?”

  “I can’t. I’m due back at The John.”

  Robin chuckled at the slangy epithet for Johns Hopkins, feeling calmer. Talking to Will seemed to take the edge off her disturbing conversation with Gloria.

  “I need to interview candidates for a couple of open staff positions this afternoon.” Will gave her an appraising look. “We’re always in the market for good nurses, Robin. Keep me in mind if your New Jersey PI doesn’t treat you right.”

  A flutter of gratitude caught Robin by surprise. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Too bad Will had to leave early. He did wonders for her morale. On the other hand, it might be fortunate. The brief trip had already brought enough complications into her life.

  “All right, then. Stay in touch, Robin. Keep fighting the good fight.” He winked just like last night.

  “You too.” Robin didn’t wink back, but then, she couldn’t wink worth a damn. Instead, she smiled. “Have a good trip, Will.”

  ROBIN SLIPPED QUIETLY INTO the wrap-up session, taking a seat in back. She tried to focus on the speakers, jotting notes, but her eyes kept drifting to the clock on the conference room wall as the minutes dragged by.

  The conversation with Gloria kept replaying in her head, drowning out the presenters. Her words struck Robin as ominous, though she couldn’t pin down a specific threat. Gloria’s sheer determination, her certainty that Robin would end her troubles, unsettled Robin. She considered phoning Sean at the break just to hear his voice. All the talk of terminally ill children upset her. The mere idea of anything like that happening to her son made Robin shudder.

  Her thoughts shifted to Amber and Jaden. Gloria had implied Robin wouldn’t mind—might even find it convenient—if something happened to them. It had sounded like a threat, but perhaps it had been a barb intended to shame. If so, the uncanny woman showed skilled marksmanship. She’d claimed credit for promoting the children’s much-needed therapy. Gloria said she’d kept her part of the bargain. Robin wondered what Ben might have to say about that.

  Robin’s anxiety wouldn’t allow her to sit there any longer. Again, she eyed the clock. They were due for a break in ten minutes. She would slip away then, she decided, check out, take the shuttle to the airport, and try for an earlier flight back to New Jersey. She wanted to make sure everything was okay, everyone.

  EIGHT

  AMBER

  WE’RE ON OUR WAY TO another of Jaden’s crummy T-ball practices. I hate when Mom drags me along. I wish she would let me stay home, but she says I’m too young to be there by myself. That’s funny since she never pays attention to us when she’s there.

  I don’t know where it is, but she said I’m in corrigible. She must want me to be out of corrigible, I guess, but I don’t know what that means either. I’m out of control, she said. She’s mad about the library book that Jaden and I colored. I don’t see what the big deal is. Now Jaden and I can’t have library books for two weeks.

  She’s being so mean, and she shouldn’t take it out on Jaden. He tries his best with his schoolwork and everything, but he has a really, really hard time concentrating. Even worse than me. I try to help him. Mom calls that the blind leading the blind.

  Poor Jaden might as well be blind with the way he plays ball. He strikes out all the time. The other kids are mean to him, and that dumb coach doesn’t even care. All those stupid, loudmouth parents yell their heads off for their bratty kids. The dads are the worst. Maybe if our dad showed up for once and cheered for Jaden, he might manage to hit the ball, or at least catch it when another kid throws it to him. I swear, one boy tries to throw the ball at him hard, like he’s aiming to hit him.

  We get to the ballpark, and Mom and I sit in the stands. I try not to watch so I won’t see Jaden screw up. Today the boys have to practice fielding, throwing the ball around and catching it. A kid throws to Jaden, and of course he drops it. The other boys laugh at him, and his face gets all red. Mom’s busy yakking with another mother. Jaden picks up the ball and throws it to another boy, but the ball doesn’t make it all the way. He’s little. He can’t help it.

  The dumb practice seems to go on forever, but finally it’s time to leave. As we’re walking from the field, I hear it.

  “Throws like a girl.”

  It’s that really mean kid.

  Another kid laughs. “Just like a girl.”

  I can tell my brother’s going to cry. Someone should teach those boys a lesson. I have a half-full bottle of water in my hand. Before I think about it, I take a few steps toward the mean boy. Next thing I know, I’m throwing it as hard as I can right at his head. It hits his foot. Not bad for a girl.

  He screams bloody murder, then his mom starts in too. She’s pointing at me and yelling at the coach. The mean kid picks up the water bottle and comes toward me. He’s plenty mad.

  “Ma!” Jaden yells. She’s busy talking to another mother. “Ma!” he calls louder.

  I’ve already got my backpack off, and I hold it in front of me. It’s got enough books inside to do some damage. “Don’t worry, Squirt,” I tell Jaden.

  Everything happens at once.

  Mom yanks me by the shoulder. “What on earth are you doing, young lady?” Then she sees the mean kid about to clobber me with the water bottle. “Hey you!”

  I shake off her hand and duck before the kid beans me then swing my backpack around and hit him with it. He goes down, calling for his mother.

  Out of nowhere, the coach steps between us. “Break it up right now.” He takes the water bottle from the kid and points at my backpack. “Put that back on.”

  The mean kid’s mom dusts dirt off him. While I put on my backpack, I catch Jaden’s eye. He grins at me. I’ll probably get punished, but it’s worth it.

  * * *THE WHOLE RIDE HOME, Mom won’t shut up about what happened. I embarrassed her. I acted like a wild animal.

  “Somebody had to stick up for Jaden,” I say. She sure doesn’t, but I don’t say that.

  “Your brother has to learn to fight his own battles,” she says.

  Next to me in the back seat, Jaden bites his lip. He’s too scared to fight any battles. Mom should know that. I pat his knee.

  Mom catches my eye in the rearview mirror. “Well, young lady.” It’s always bad when she calls me that. “That’s the last straw. You and Jaden are going to therapy with your father to get straightened out.”

  I don’t like the sound of therapy. I’m not crazy, and neither is Jaden. I ask if she’s coming too. I remember she used to see a head doctor and called it a waste of time.

  Mom snorts like she got soda up her nose. “Are you kidding? Nothing’s wrong with me except you and your brother.”

  Jaden frowns. “What’s a therapist?”

  “Someone who’ll teach you how to behave,” Mom snaps.

  Jaden turns to me, wide-eyed. “Will he hit us?”

  “Ha!” Mom laughs. “Maybe.”

  I shake my head at Jaden, but his lip trembles.

  “Please, Ma. Don’t make us go there,” he begs.

  In the rearview mirror, I catch her making a face, like she thinks he’s stupid or something. “Don’t be silly. A therapist is someone who figures out what’s wrong with you and gives you advice about how to make it better.”

  I roll my eyes because I know that’s a crock—therapy never helped her. But Jaden’s interested.

  “Will she help me play softball better?” he asks.

  I snort.

  “Be quiet, Amber,” Mom says. “No. Your father’s taking you to the therapist to learn how to do things you’re supposed to do, like your schoolwork and your chores.”

  “Dad’s taking us?” Jaden asks.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No kidding?” Jaden sounds excited. “Will we get to see him more?”

  Mom says, “It depends.”

  “On what?” Jaden wants to
know.

  “I don’t know,” Mom says. “On whether you behave. Now stop distracting me. I’m driving.”

  Ha. Half the time she texts while she drives. She’s not supposed to do that. They told us so at school.

  “I wanna go,” Jaden whispers to me.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Do too,” he insists.

  “Listen, Squirt. Therapy’s for crazy people. Do you think we’re crazy?”

  “I told you two to be quiet back there!” Mom snaps.

  “Do too,” Jaden whispers.

  I keep quiet, but I’m kind of ticked off. Some thanks I get for sticking up for him.

  We get home, and I go to my room to think about the whole therapy business. I’ll bet Robin’s behind it. Even though Mom said Dad’s taking us to get straightened out, he never cared about stuff we did until she came along. She’s all lah-di-dah, big on good manners and being neat. That’s why Jaden and I call her Miss Perfect, although maybe it should be Ms. Perfect on account of her being divorced. I wish Dad would divorce her, but they’re not married yet. I swear, her house is like some fancy museum. We can look at all the nice things, but we better not touch anything, or we’ll get in trouble.

  We used to go there but not anymore. Last time, I took one of her precious little bird statues—figurines, she calls them—and put it in Dad’s house. I don’t know why. Maybe Miss Perfect will decide Dad’s a thief and stop going out with him, only she hasn’t said anything. Maybe she hasn’t noticed yet.

  Or maybe she has, and that’s why Dad has to go to therapy with me and Jaden. So all three of us can get straightened out. Well, nobody’s going to treat me like a crazy person.

  NINE

  ROBIN

  “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, WE will land at Newark Liberty International Airport in approximately twenty minutes.”

  Robin sighed with relief. Made it. No crashes, terrorist hijackings, or freak storms. She’d had a smooth ride on the earlier flight she’d caught out of BWI. She wanted to be home.

 

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