Suffer Little Children

by Freda Hansburg

I shake my head. “She doesn’t like it, and she’s too big to force.”

  Gloria says she meant a dog groomer could clean her. “There’s a good place next door to one of my clients. If your mom would like, I could drop her off when I go do his books and bring her back when I’m finished. They can bathe Nina and give her a trim.”

  I picture how Nina would look and can’t imagine a bath would last long before she got filthy again, but I want to be nice to this lady. Manners aren’t hard when people treat me like a person. “That sounds great. Thanks.” I hope Mom will let Gloria do it.

  “I’ll talk with your mom.” She turns toward the front door. “She’s home, right? I told her I’d be by.”

  “Yeah, she’s here. C’mon, Nina.” We lead Gloria up the walk. Jaden’s bike is blocking the path. “I guess my brother’s back too.” I don’t want her to think it’s my bicycle in the way. I reach for the handlebars, but I don’t want to let go of Nina’s leash and have her run off.

  “I’ll get it.” Gloria takes the handlebars then looks at the wheels. “What happened here?”

  I feel like someone punched me in the stomach. “Why are his tires flat?”

  Gloria kneels beside the bike and checks the wheels. “Look at this.” She points at a nail sticking out of the front tire then to the back one. “Here too.” She shakes her head. “Imagine, in a nice neighborhood like this. Your brother should keep his bike in the garage.”

  Jaden will be really upset. “We leave our bikes and stuff out all the time. Nothing’s ever happened before.” Maybe one of the neighbors wanted to get back at us on account of Nina pooping on their lawn. I ask if Gloria saw anyone around who might have done it.

  “No, I didn’t,” she says. “Amber, do you have any idea who might do such a thing?”

  Robin pops into my mind just like that. “Do you know my father’s girlfriend?”

  “Only slightly,” Gloria says. She stands up, brushing dirt off her hands from Jaden’s tires. “I met her at the cookout last week.”

  I remember the party where Jaden and I messed around with the dumb dog. “Robin got really mad at us that day.”

  Her expression gets serious. “You think Robin did this to Jaden’s bike?” She’s staring at me so hard I have to look away. It’s like she can read my mind.

  “Maybe she wanted to punish us or something,” I say in a low voice.

  She clucks her tongue. “What a terrible thing to do.”

  She believes me. I bet I’m right. Robin did it.

  Gloria drags Jaden’s bike up the walk to the front doorstep. “Tires can be fixed,” she says. “But you be careful, Amber. Take care of your brother. Be sure to tell your dad if his girlfriend gives you any more trouble.”

  It’s nice to have a grown-up stick up for me for a change, but it makes me feel shy. “We better go in,” I mumble. I open the front door and let Nina inside. “Mom! Jaden!” I call out. “Gloria’s here. Something happened to Jaden’s bike.”

  Mom’s footsteps come down the stairs. Jaden’s voice comes from the kitchen.

  Jaden arrives first. “My bike? What happened to my bike?”

  He rushes outside and busts out crying. I put my arms around him. He cries all over my neck, but that’s okay.

  “We can fix it,” I promise.

  “What happened?” Mom asks.

  “It appears the tires were punctured,” Gloria tells her. She doesn’t say anything about Robin. I guess that’s our secret for now. It makes me feel important.

  “Why did someone do this?” Jaden wails.

  I feel so bad for him. I want to get even with the person who hurt him. Robin. Gloria and I catch each other’s eyes.

  “Everything will be okay,” she says. “Just remember what I told you.”

  MOM ORDERS PIZZA FOR dinner. Since Jaden’s so upset about his bike, she says. I bet she just wants an excuse not to cook.

  After dinner I play cards with Jaden in his room, trying to cheer him up. I teach him how to play poker, like Dad once showed me, but he can’t keep track of his cards and makes a big fuss. Then he starts crying over his bike again, having what Mom calls one of his Meltdowns, which remind me of her Mood Disorder, come to think of it. Only she doesn’t like his Meltdowns. She says he’s being spoiled. Anyway, she’s downstairs, where she doesn’t have to hear it.

  “Don’t worry, Squirt,” I tell him. “Dad will fix it.”

  He sniffles and wipes his nose with his hand. “Amber? Do you think Dad will ever come home?”

  “Don’t be a jerk.” He’s a little kid, but he should know better.

  “But maybe if we talk to that therapist, you know, with Dad? The doctor might tell Dad to move back with us.”

  “Don’t you get it? Mom and Dad are never getting back together.”

  Jaden tears up, but I can’t help it. He shouldn’t hope for something that won’t happen. That’s how kids get hurt.

  “But maybe he’d come back. Mom said therapists give people advice.”

  “He’s not coming back. You know why?”

  He shakes his head.

  “On account of Miss Perfect. We don’t matter as long as she’s around.” Saying it out loud makes me madder than when I keep it inside. “And Robin hates us.”

  “How do you know?” he asks. “She’s not so bad.”

  He’s being a traitor. We stick together. That’s the rule. “You want to know something?”

  “What?” He cocks his head.

  I lean close to his face and whisper, “Robin’s the one who put the holes in your tires.”

  Jaden’s mouth drops open. “How do you know?”

  “Because Gloria told me. She saw her.” It’s practically true.

  TWELVE

  ROBIN

  A CHARDONNAY CHILLED IN Robin’s fridge. A brie sat warming on the kitchen countertop. She expected Ben for drinks at six before dinner at a local Italian bistro to celebrate the launch of MATCH at Mountainview and Ben’s newly discovered Italian ancestry.

  Setting aside her awkward exchange with Dr. Richman that afternoon, Robin anticipated the evening with pleasure. She fastened the clasp of the thick silver chain that completed her outfit, reminding herself of all the reasons Ben counted as a keeper, especially when therapy might teach him how to keep The Goops in line.

  The doorbell rang. Robin gave her hair a final fluff and hurried to answer it.

  At the door, she took in his jeans and a light-blue cotton sweater under a tan leather jacket. “Mmm, nice.” She circled her arms around his waist.

  “And you look gorgeous, Bird.” He kissed her softly, their lips lingering. He pulled back. “So? How’d it go? Was day one a success?”

  Ben remembered things, kept track of her job developments, unlike Robin’s ex, who expected the world to revolve around him and his career. “All good. We got more referrals.” She decided to leave out the incident with her boss. She saw no need to put a damper on their celebratory evening. She led Ben toward the great room. “Would you open the wine while I get the cheese and crackers? Chardonnay’s in the fridge, and you know where the corkscrew lives.”

  “I’m on it.” Ben shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on a chair.

  When they settled on the sofa, he filled their glasses and raised his. “To Mountainview’s MATCH and its matchless coordinator.”

  “Awww.” Robin slapped him playfully on the knee. “You’re a sweetie.” They clinked glasses and drank.

  “I made the therapy appointment,” Ben announced. “I’ll see her myself for the first session, Thursday after work, then bring the kids in Saturday morning.”

  “That’s good.” Robin spread brie on a flatbread. “Where’s her office?”

  “Right here in Summit. She’s a psychologist named Dr. Goldman.” Ben took a cracker. “She’s in my insurance network, and I liked how she sounded on the phone.”

  “Having Saturday hours is a plus.” Robin lifted her glass, offering a second toast. “To family harmony.” />
  Ben raised his glass then put it back on the table. “Oh... I almost forgot.” He got up and lifted his jacket from the chair. Reaching into one of the pockets, he removed an object and handed it to her—a lipstick. “Is that the right one?” Robin checked the label for her regular shade, matte finish. “Uh-huh. Thanks.”

  “I had Amber contribute to it from her allowance.” He waited for her reaction. “Okay?”

  Robin nodded. A start.

  “Also...” Ben reached back into his pocket. “I—uh—found this in my bedroom. I think it’s yours.” He held out a figurine—the one that had gone missing from the collection in her living room.

  Robin eyed the tiny bird. “In your bedroom?”

  “Yeah.” He tossed his jacket back onto the chair, avoiding her inquiring gaze. “On the night table on your side of the bed.” He joined her on the couch.

  Robin simmered. “How do you suppose it got there?”

  Ben sighed. “We can make a pretty good guess.”

  “Meaning your daughter took it.”

  “C’mon, Bird. She must have been playing with it and carried it off without thinking. You know how she is.”

  He was making excuses for her again. Robin fought the urge to pick up the blue figurine and hurl it at him. “You know, Ben, I nearly accused my cleaning lady of stealing or breaking that piece. Imagine how embarrassing that would have been.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry.” He grimaced. “I’m glad I found it before you confronted her.”

  “You want a medal for that?” Robin sneered.

  “Bird, don’t.” He took her hand. “To tell you the truth, I was tempted to slip it back into your collection without telling you.”

  Robin tried to pull away, but he held on. Once again, Ben was justifying Amber’s bad behavior.

  “This is exactly the kind of thing we’re going to deal with in family therapy,” he said.

  Robin’s fingers remained as rigid as a cadaver’s in his grasp. “It’d better be,” she muttered. And that shrink had better be a master clinician.

  Ben’s cell phone sounded from his jacket. He released Robin’s hand and, with an apologetic glance, reached to answer it. Robin understood that as a lawyer and a parent, he would always be on call. But if one more incriminating thing emerged from that jacket, she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.

  Ben frowned at his phone. “Vanessa. I better take this in case it’s about the therapy appointment.”

  “Shall I wait in the other room?” Frost filled Robin’s voice.

  Ben shook his head. “Nessie, what’s up?”

  Robin picked up her Chardonnay, ready to retreat to the kitchen should the call become contentious. She’d had enough of Ben’s family drama for the evening.

  Ben listened to his ex, his expression darkening. “Why won’t she come?” he demanded.

  Robin put down her glass, having second thoughts. The call sounded like trouble and might be a conversation she should stick around for.

  “We already discussed Jaden’s bike. I said I’d take it to be repaired,” Ben said. “What does that have to do with Amber refusing to come?”

  Robin’s eyes darted to Ben. He scowled, avoiding her gaze.

  “What? That’s ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “Where did she get a crazy idea like that?” He rolled his eyes. “Put Amber on the phone. Vanessa, don’t tell me she won’t. Bring the damned phone to her and put her on.”

  Robin sat up straight, all ears. Ben sounded really angry for once.

  “Amber?” He sounded harsh. “What’s going on? Your mother said you won’t come to therapy on Saturday because of Jaden’s bike.”

  Robin raised her eyebrows. Jaden’s bike? More drama.

  Ben listened. “No, Robin won’t be at the appointment.” He glanced quickly in her direction. “I don’t know about that. We’ll see what the doctor recommends.”

  Robin gulped her wine. Does he intend to corral me into family therapy with The Goops? About to protest, she froze at Ben’s next words.

  “Amber, listen. About Jaden’s bike. Your mother said you claimed...” Ben darted another glance her way. “Robin punctured the tires?”

  “What?” Robin shouted.

  Ben held up a hand, imploring her silence. “Amber, Robin would never do something like that, not to Jaden or you or anyone else. She’s a nurse. Why would you think such a thing, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart? A nurse? That’s the best he can say of me?

  “Amber,” Ben pleaded. “Don’t cry, honey.”

  Robin seethed. The little witch had manipulated him yet again, making her the villain, even though Robin had told him they should keep their bikes inside.

  “All right,” Ben said. “Amber, I’m coming over now to pick up Jaden’s bike. I’ll take it in to be repaired first thing in the morning. Okay? No, it’s not fair. Whoever did it was very wrong, but I’m sure it wasn’t Robin. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He ended the call and gave Robin a sheepish look. “I’m sorry, Bird. Amber’s very upset. We can have dinner later, or...”

  Robin shook her head. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Bird, she’s a kid. Someone flattened her brother’s bike tires, and she’s protective of him. Don’t take it personally.” He reached toward her.

  Robin backed away. “Not even when she accuses me?”

  “Robin—” He seemed lost for a millisecond. “God knows what put that idea into Amber’s head, but let’s be the adults here.”

  Robin crossed her arms. He had some nerve lecturing her about being the adult, even if he made a valid point. She would be as freaking childish as she wanted—throw a goddamned tantrum if she liked. And she did feel like it. Inside her, an ocean of hurt roiled, churning with betrayals old and new.

  “Please. Go. Now.” She could only manage single syllables.

  Ben sighed. “I’m sorry. But I’m worried about her. Call you later?”

  Robin held back her tears until he left.

  THIRTEEN

  AMBER

  I GUESS IT PAYS TO make a stink sometimes. Dad’s taken me out for ice cream, on a school night, when it’s not even his regular night to see me. Mom said good riddance. Yelling and crying work, even if people tell you not to. Jaden’s going to be sore about missing out since he’s at his Cub Scout meeting, but he’ll be glad Dad fixed his bike.

  I get Dad all to myself for a change plus two scoops of chocolate Häagen-Dazs with sprinkles. It’s warm out tonight, so we sit at a table outside. Dad’s being super nice, even if he did make me pay for Miss Perfect’s lipstick. But he’s watching me with a weird expression, like his ice cream tastes sour. He wants to know why I blamed Robin for Jaden’s bike. “Because” is all I tell him. And whether I took her stupid bird statue. I shrug. He asks why I don’t want to see the dumb therapist.

  “It’ll give us a chance to talk about our feelings,” he says.

  Barf on that.

  The doctor might be interested in hearing my feelings about Miss Perfect, but Dad sure won’t. Still, I keep quiet and try not to spoil the good time we’re having—I’m having.

  “Hey, Dad?” I ask. “You know that lady Gloria? Mom’s friend with the sick kid?”

  He used to know her, he says, and wants to know why I ask.

  I explain how she offered to take Nina for a bath if Mom says it’s okay. “Don’t you think that’s nice?”

  He’s not happy. “Did your mother say Gloria could do that?”

  “She said she’d think about it.” I mush the sprinkles into my ice cream.

  “Has Gloria been coming around the house lately?” Dad stares at me, waiting for my answer.

  I get the feeling he might not like the idea of her visiting. “Not so much.”

  He’s quiet for a moment. “Well, we can take care of our own dog.”

  Except we don’t. Dad said he would pay to get that poodle groomed after Jaden and I gave him a makeover, but he never says anything about Nina, even though her f
ur is a mess. It makes me sore. I hope Gloria takes her to be groomed, but I don’t say so to Dad. I see he’s hardly even touched his ice cream.

  “Amber, one thing we might discuss in therapy is all of us taking a vacation together, maybe over the holiday break. Would you like that?”

  I’m not dumb. He’s trying to bribe me. Probably the ice cream is a bribe, too, I realize. “Who’s all of us? Would Mom be coming too?” I wonder if he’ll take us to Disney World.

  He clears his throat. “I meant you and Jaden with Robin and me.”

  “She wouldn’t,” I mumble. My stomach hurts.

  Dad frowns. “Wouldn’t what?”

  “Want to come.” My ice cream is melting.

  He sighs. “Sweetheart, that’s something the therapist could help us with.”

  I feel kind of sad for him because he doesn’t get it. No therapist anywhere is good enough to convince Robin to go on a vacation with me and my brother. I bet she would hate Disney World. I feel even sadder for me because I know Dad really wants her along, probably more than he wants me. I’m lucky to even get ice cream with him. No way would I tell that to some goofy doctor. He really would think I’m crazy for caring about stuff like that.

  I really want to talk some more with Gloria, even if Dad might not like it. She’s nice to me. I get a brilliant idea. I’ll sneak and get ahold of Mom’s phone and find her number. I can call and tell her Mom said sure, go ahead and take Nina to the groomer. I could even do it tonight. It’s not that late, not for calling a grown-up.

  I push away my ice cream. “Dad? Can we go home now? I’m kind of tired.”

  FOURTEEN

  ROBIN

  ROBIN DRIED HER SWOLLEN eyes. She tossed the soggy tissue onto the table, picked up her glass, and drained the last of the Chardonnay. She reached for Ben’s glass.

  She eyed the small figurine in front of her, a blue bird, robin’s-egg blue. Poor little bird.

  She washed down the sentiment with a gulp of Ben’s wine. She ought to open a can of soup. She would pay for all the wine on an empty stomach in the morning.