Chasing Charlie

by C. M. Newman

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: STAGE THREE

  “Forgiven,” Vince said after a heartfelt apology from Marshall over the phone. “Just how bad did Angela let you have it on Friday, by the way? It didn’t sound good.”

  Marshall laughed. “I’m still havin’ nightmares, man. How are things back home?”

  “Going well,” Vince said, glad to have that out of their way. “Just met with my oncologist, actually.”

  “Everything okay?” Marshall asked, concern immediately riddling his voice.

  “Everything’s fine,” Vince replied. “My painkillers were making me nauseous so I’m trying a different one. A patch.”

  “You’ve been nauseous? I thought you didn’t have chemo till later this week? That’s what Angela said, anyway.”

  “Correct, no chemo until Wednesday. But it’s not just the chemo that causes the nausea. I was experiencing it before I was even diagnosed. And I’m on opioids for my pain and they can all cause it, too. I don’t think I can avoid it. Just have to find a drug that doesn’t bring it on quite as much and learn to live with it.”

  “If that was me I’d be skippin’ the pain meds. I’d rather be in pain than be nauseous any day of the week.”

  “I’m the same way, and that’s exactly what I was doing. Care to indulge me in a little shoptalk? What’s the case about?”

  “Sorry, you must get sick of all the talk about your health. It’s uh…four missing kids.”

  “Go on,” Vince said.

  “Vince, come on,” Marshall said uncomfortably, “you don’t have to deal with this stuff anymore.”

  “It was my job for years, and as dark as it was, I loved it, in some sick, twisted way.”

  “You really miss it that much?”

  Vince scratched the back of his head and stared up at the ceiling. “On days I don’t have chemo, I sit around with this underlying boredom no matter how I manage to occupy my mind. I miss working.”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  Vince smiled. “I helped Angela go through some wrap-up one night a few weeks ago and it was utterly thrilling. Give me the details.”

  —

  Vince had been happy with his decision not to befriend anyone else aside from Frankie at the chemotherapy center, and on the days where he came in and she didn’t look all that lively, he wondered if he had been foolish even to let himself get close to her. Today, though, he longed for some human interaction between the hours of eight in the morning and four in the afternoon. Monday and Tuesday had been dreadfully boring before picking Charlie up from school. The only consolation was that his new pain patch, which he wore on his chest, relieved the majority of his pain while leaving him significantly less queasy than his last regimen had.

  “Hi,” Frankie mumbled when Vince took a seat next to her. Though seating was on a first-come, first-served basis, patients at the center seemed to sense a pattern and exercise caution in where they sat, as if someone’s name was on a sign next to every chair.

  “Hey there. Why the long face?” Vince asked.

  Frankie didn’t cry, but she might as well have for how effectively she tore up Vince’s insides. “Not doing so great. They had to admit me. I’m stage three now,” she said, holding up a hand to show him her identification bracelet. Her wrists were usually covered with colorful costume jewelry.

  Vince didn’t speak for a moment. Part of his job had been to know what to say without missing a beat. Feeling a bit rusty on that front, he at least thought to clear his throat, reach into the canvas tote he brought with him, and pull out the worn stuffed dog. It didn’t make its way out of the bag every day, but it always came with him. What could he say to a little girl whose life was threatened by an illness she was fighting with every ounce of strength she had? He was still at a loss as he handed the dog over.

  Frankie mustered up a smile that only squeezed heart-rending tears from her eyes. “Thanks,” she squeaked.

  “Why don’t you hang on to him for a while? I think you need him a little more than I do right now,” Vince said.

  Frankie hugged Chip to her chest, nodding, but only for a moment. She then swallowed back her tears and wiped the offending ones from her cheeks. Speechless as well now, she stared straight ahead of her to the opposite side of the large room and out onto the greening, blooming gardens behind the hospital. Though the last half of winter’s clouds had made the beginning of Vince’s illness all that much harder to bear, the impending spring was almost crueler. While everything outside got a rebirth, growing tall and vibrant again, he and the undeserving child next to him were on the decline.

  “It’s gonna be okay,” Vince said with so little conviction that he almost felt guilty for speaking.

  “Sure,” Frankie droned.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?” Vince offered.

  Frankie shook her head slowly, picking at the pills of fluff on Chip’s ears. “I’d rather talk about something happy. All my family keeps talking about is me and how my mom’s gonna have to quit her job to keep me company during the day and how it doesn’t look good this time. Tell me something happy instead.”

  Yet again, the easiest way Vince could think of to put a real smile on Frankie’s face involved Angela. He hoped it wouldn’t come off as self-centered when he held up his left hand. Frankie’s eyes popped open.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Whoa,” Maria said as she arrived to get Vince’s medication started up. “Did somebody get married?”

  “Sure did.”

  Frankie let out a split second of a scream before clapping her hands over her mouth.

  “Congratulations,” Maria laughed, both at the uplifting news and Frankie’s predictable reaction.

  “Thanks,” Vince said. “Cheer you up a little?” he asked Frankie.

  She put her hands down, and with a genuine smile that ran ear-to-ear, she nodded. “That’s so awesome. When did it happen? Where?”

  “Last Thursday at our church.”

  “Wait, if it happened last Thursday, shouldn’t you be on a honeymoon or something?” Frankie asked dubiously.

  Vince chuckled. “I wish. Angela’s got a job to do, though, and I don’t want to be away from my son any more than I have to.”

  “Take a long weekend,” Maria said permissively to Vince, patting him on the shoulder before she walked away.

  “Wow,” Frankie said. “You got married. That’s so awesome.”

  “Well, I’m glad it gave you something to smile about.”

  “You know, every time you come back from your week off, you have big news. Think next time you’ll find out you’re gonna have a baby? I know the doctors tell people not to—you hear things around here—but a stage three lung cancer patient and his wife had a baby when I was in a few years ago. Well, I think it was an accident, but still. It was healthy and everything.”

  Vince smiled distantly. “We’ve already decided against that, but if that were to change, I’d make sure to tell you on a Wednesday morning. It would only be fitting.”

  —

  Vince suppressed his grief the rest of the day, starting with the drive home with Jenna, who was chauffeuring him until he had a good idea of how his new pain patch would affect him.

  “I need to talk to you about Charlie,” Vince said.

  “Sure, what’s up?” Jenna asked.

  “He said something about the trip that didn’t sit well with me. Actually, it was rather embarrassing and insulting. I’d like to know if you knew about it.”

  Jenna frowned. “Just spit it out.”

  “He said Marge called Angela my cancer girlfriend and a gold digger. He wanted to know what it meant, and I kind of defined it for him and stressed that it wasn’t nice, but…Jen, I know how lowly your family thinks of me, and you know what? That’s fine. I deserve it. It is my fault that Kate died. I’ve learned to live with that. And I was a terrible husband before we split. But why can’t they keep their insults aimed toward me, and out of Charlie’s earshot?�
��

  “Vince, I’m sorry. I didn’t know they’d said anything like that. They certainly didn’t say it to me. I’m sure Charlie just overheard them gossiping.”

  “Charlie doesn’t need those ideas, Jen. Not about Angela. And I don’t see how they would think Angela was after my money. I have none right now. All my retirement savings and my life insurance is going to you and Charlie, and Angela knows that.”

  “Vince, calm down, okay? I know. I know they’re inconsiderate toward you, but do remember one thing. They love and adore Charlie, and he loves and adores them right back. And he had a really good time there. I’ll ask them to be more careful around him, okay?”

  Vince nodded, sudden fatigue stripping away his ability to vent any further. “Thanks. And thanks for driving Charlie around the past couple days. I think I should be able to drive again starting tomorrow. The new medication doesn’t seem to make me too drowsy. I think I’m out of the woods.”

  “Good. So Angela’s in Miami, huh?” Jenna teased. “Jealous?”

  “Of Miami,” Vince quipped.

  “Aww. Kind of stinks to be separated so soon. Hopefully it’s a quick case. You should give her a call, though. Bet she’d love that.”

  Vince shook his head. “She’ll call when she has time. It’s a case involving missing children. I definitely don’t want to interrupt that.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “But…speaking of Angela…” Vince started.

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m not trying to sound accusatory, so forgive me if I come off that way, but is there something that bothers you about her? One minute you’re standoffish, the next minute you’re a little aggressive when you get possessive over Charlie, and then sometimes it seems like nothing’s wrong. I mean, which is it?”

  Jenna got rid of the caught-red-handed look before Vince glanced over at her. “I…I like her. I don’t have anything against her. I’m just protective of Charlie, is all.”

  “And I told you, she’s committed to him. I know her and she would never just say that to get me off her case. If she wasn’t serious about him, then she would’ve been honest with me.”

  “Even if it meant you’d leave her?” Jenna asked.

  “Jen, I can’t take this right now. I’m not having the best day so far, and you insinuating things about Angela isn’t making it any better.”

  “Need I remind you that you brought it up? And I’m not trying to insinuate that she’s not serious about being there for Charlie. I’m just trying to look at this from every angle.”

  “Look at it from this angle, then,” Vince said with sternness. “Promise me right now that you’ll make an effort to be friendly toward her—and maybe even actually befriend her—or I’m putting some sort of arrangement in my will. She didn’t promise me she’d be there for Charlie simply because it’s something I want and something he wants. It’s something she wants, too. Promise me you’ll make an effort with her now, and promise me you’ll cooperate with her when I’m gone, or I’ll be more than happy to call up my lawyer.”

  “I promise,” Jenna said hastily. “Really, there’s no need to take any sort of legal precaution. You know I’ll always do what’s best for Charlie. Do you trust me?”

  “You’ve been there for him ever since Kate passed away. Even before that. I like to think that I can,” Vince replied.

  “Do you?”

  Vince felt as though he had deeply insulted Jenna now. Before he could make things worse, he nodded. “I do. But doing what’s best for Charlie includes you ending the animosity toward Angela. It stops right now.”

  “I’ve got it,” Jenna said. “I heard you loud and clear.”

  —

  Angela called home the first chance she got, hoping Vince wasn’t already asleep. He answered, to her relief, sounding awake enough.

  “Hey, sorry I couldn’t call sooner,” she said.

  “It’s okay,” Vince said. “I want you to concentrate on the case. Any progress?”

  “Not really,” Angela said with a sigh. “But none of us has really slept since we got here, so Fitz sent us to the hotel for some shut-eye.”

  “Then don’t let me keep you up. Get some rest,” Vince said.

  “No, no, no, I want to talk to you. How’s the fentanyl patch working? Still okay?”

  “Yeah, so far, so good.”

  “Oh, that’s so good to hear. How was chemo?”

  Vince had successfully avoided thinking about Frankie for most of the rest of the day, focusing instead on fixing dinner for himself and Charlie once they got home from Jenna’s, and then spending some quality time with him between yawns.

  “Vince?” Angela asked when she got no answer.

  “Uh, not great,” Vince admitted sitting down on the couch. Charlie was in bed, so he let his mind wander to several hours ago.

  “What’s the matter? What happened?” Angela sat down at the foot of her bed in her hotel room.

  Vince rubbed his forehead firmly with the heel of his hand, fighting off a sudden headache. “It’s Frankie. Her leukemia progressed to stage three and they admitted her.”

  Angela slowly fell forward, her elbows landing on her knees. “Oh, no…how is she taking it?”

  “Like anyone would. She’s scared.”

  “Vince, I’m so sorry…”

  “Finding out we got married cheered her up, but…that’s only temporary, you know? And you can only be so happy for someone else when you’re not happy for yourself. This whole time, she’s been under the impression that her cancer was back just for a bit. She thought she’d go into remission again in no time.”

  “And you thought she would, too.”

  “Yeah,” Vince said in a strangled whisper. “Sorry.”

  “No, don’t apologize. Let it out. It’s awful and it’s not fair. It’s okay to be upset.”

  “If I lose it, then I’m admitting I don’t think the situation looks good,” Vince insisted.

  “And that’s okay to admit. It’s not like you’re saying that to her. You’re saying it to me. You know you can be honest with me. Talk to me,” Angela said gently, digging her toes into the carpeting.

  “I knew it was a bad idea to get close to anyone there. I mean, how many people at a chemo center would be there with me the whole time? Either someone goes into remission and they leave, and I sit there wondering why that couldn’t be me. Or someone gets worse, like Frankie, and I wonder why it has to be her. Why not someone who’s already lived life? Even if she does go into remission, she’s already lost all this time.”

  “I’m still here,” Angela said after a long break.

  “I don’t have anything left to say,” Vince said. “How is everyone there? Things going okay with Marshall?”

  Angela considered pushing Vince to rant further and get it out of his system, but she sensed that he was out of steam. “Everyone’s great. Things are fine now. He said he talked to you.”

  “Yeah, we’re good now, too. Can you tell everyone I said hello?”

  “Of course. Hey, have you thought of maybe bringing Frankie something to cheer her up tomorrow? Maybe a new scarf or a joke book or something? I don’t know. And if you feel weird giving her a gift without a real occasion, you can tell her it was from me.”

  “What do you give a girl who might be dying?” Vince asked poignantly. “I honestly don’t know what to say, either. I don’t want to lie and tell her everything will be okay, because what if it’s not?”

  “You should tell her anyway. Even if she doesn’t believe you, and even if it doesn’t end up being true, she needs encouragement. Yeah, she’s old enough to know the world sucks, but she’s also too young to go through this without any hope.”

  Angela heard Vince sniffle.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it back up. I’ll let you deal with it how you see fit. She’s your friend and you know her better than I do.”

  Vince was ready to change the subject again. After a moment of silence, he sai
d, “I talked to Jenna today about that comment Charlie heard. She didn’t know about it, so she didn’t know to correct anyone, but she said she’ll talk to them about what they say around Charlie.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Angela said anxiously.

  “I did. Charlie can’t get real support from people who don’t trust you. Not that you have to be in direct contact with them, but think about how it’ll be for Charlie, spending time with you, and then spending time with people who talk about you like that. I can—I can take the smack talk about me, because I’ll be gone, so I can’t be hurt by it, but you’ll still be here. It’s not fair to you or to Charlie. He needs to trust you.”

  “Do you really think their talking smack about you really affects how Charlie sees you or me?” Angela asked sadly. “Vince, he absolutely adores you. Maybe…maybe it’s a good thing that he hears their snide remarks once in a while, because you’re his hero no matter what, and he knows how much I love you both, so he’ll realize that not everything they say is true. He’ll learn how to discern.”

  “He’s six. He should be able to trust what his family tells him.”

  “Yeah, I guess when you take his age into account,” Angela conceded. “Sorry, I’m just…trying to make you feel better. I’m not trying to take it lightly.”

  “I know,” Vince said calmly. “I appreciate it. It helps to let it out. I miss you. Don’t pack your bags and come running home just yet, but find those children and get back as soon as you can.”

  Warmth rolled to Angela’s every extremity. “I will. I miss you, too. And Charlie. Is he still awake? I’d love to talk to him.”

  “He got to bed on time tonight. I’d rather not wake him.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want you to. Let him sleep. I’ll try to call while he’s still up tomorrow night. Are you gonna be okay?”

  Vince sounded gathered enough now. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Thanks for letting me talk. I’ll let you go now.”

  —

  Vince was displeased. He sat at home, his eyes drooping shut, on Friday afternoon. Though he didn’t feel queasy, he’d been too tired to drive after his chemotherapy, which had been much more solemn the past couple days, with Frankie understandably downtrodden. Therefore, Jenna had taken Charlie to his appointment with his grief counselor. As if having to send his son to a professional to deal with his problems didn’t make him feel unsatisfactory enough as a father, the fact that he couldn’t even drive him there sent him spiraling into an even deeper depression. He felt better only once Jenna came home with Charlie.

  “Hey, buddy,” Vince said, greeting his son with a hug. “How was your appointment?”

  “Okay,” Charlie said simply.

  “Hey, Charlie,” Jenna said, leaning forward and putting her hands on her knees. “Can you give me a kiss goodnight and then go play in your room so I can talk with your daddy, please?”

  Charlie nodded, accepted a hug and kiss from his aunt, then trotted back to his room.

  “What’s going on?” Vince asked, his brow wrinkled in concern.

  “Charlie’s therapist told me something that he said during his session, something she thought you’d want to know.”

  Vince’s stomach cramped. “What?”

  “Some kid at school has been harassing him about…all of this. Making fun of him about not having a mom or a dad once you pass away,” Jenna said, her eyes glimmering, “saying that…” She rolled her eyes. “I…maybe you should have Charlie tell you.”

  “Saying what?” Vince said shakily. “Just tell me. I’ll find out either way.”

  “Saying that you look gross,” Jenna said shamefully, “which you don’t—”

  “Is that all he said?” Vince asked.

  “That’s all she told me.”

  Vince slid a hand down his haggard face. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Of course. Do you want me to talk to him? I didn’t bring up the fact that she told me. I didn’t know if Charlie knew that Dr. Birmingham shares some of what he says with us. I didn’t know how you wanted to handle it.”

  “I’ll talk to him. Thank you for leaving it up to me,” Vince said sincerely.

  Jenna nodded. “Of course. You seem tired. I can easily bring you to and from chemo tomorrow if I’m coming to get Charlie anyway. Let me know.”

  Vince forced a pleasant grin. “Sounds good. Thanks for everything. Goodnight.”

  “’Night.”

  With a weary sigh, Vince lowered himself onto the couch and tried to process what he had just heard. Not only was Charlie losing him, but he was being tormented at school because of it. Still unsure of how he would solve this problem but incapable of letting Charlie go another second thinking that it was okay for him to be bullied, Vince called out his son’s name.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Charlie said neutrally. He brought out a jigsaw puzzle with him—one that Vince had promised to work on with him.

  “Hey, kiddo. Can we sit down and talk for a minute?”

  Charlie nodded and climbed onto the couch; Vince turned to face him.

  “You tell Dr. Birmingham a lot of things at your sessions, don’t you?”

  “Yup,” Charlie said.

  “I know that sometimes you tell her things you don’t tell me, and I want you to know that…that’s okay with me. If there’s something that’s making you sad or upset, I always want you to tell someone, even if it’s not me. It could be Dr. Birmingham, Auntie Jen, or Angela, or Uncle Mitch, or even your teachers. Are we clear on that?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Now, about that. Understand that Dr. Birmingham and I—and Auntie Jen—we have an agreement that if you tell Dr. Birmingham something she thinks I really need to know, she’ll tell me about it, or she’ll tell Auntie Jen if she’s the one who takes you in. And she told Auntie Jen something you told her during your session today. Do you know what it might be?”

  Charlie shrugged.

  “Okay, well, Dr. Birmingham said that you told her that someone’s been picking on you at school. Is that true?”

  Charlie nodded only after a few moments, and with guilt.

  “That’s okay that you told her instead of me, Charlie. I’m not mad at you. I’m glad you told her. But I hope you understand that this is something I need to know, and it’s the kind of thing Dr. Birmingham would tell me about. But nobody’s mad at you, okay?”

  “Okay,” Charlie mumbled.

  Vince felt that he could establish more rapport with Charlie if he had him share the details. “Can you tell me in your own words what’s been going on at school?”

  Charlie’s big eyes rounded in sad protest. “I don’t wanna make you sad, Daddy.”

  Vince kept it together, not wanting to help Charlie’s case. “It’s okay if I’m sad, Charlie. I would much rather be sad than not know about something like this. That would make me sadder. So can you please tell me?” He placed a hand atop Charlie’s head, moving his hair slightly out of place as he rubbed it.

  “My friend makes fun of me ’cause when you die I won’t have a mommy or daddy,” Charlie explained.

  Vince couldn’t let himself process how much more that hurt coming from Charlie’s mouth than it had from Jenna’s. “Does he say anything else?”

  Charlie shook his head.

  “Buddy, I think there’s one more thing. Please tell me what it is.”

  Charlie finally started to cry. “He said you look gross.”

  “Okay, first of all, come here,” Vince said, opening up his arms for Charlie, who climbed into his lap, making Vince wince a bit when he jabbed him in the stomach with his knee. “Guess how much I love you,” Vince said into Charlie’s mussed up hair, leaving a kiss there.

  “I dunno,” Charlie said morosely.

  “C’mon, you don’t wanna play?” Vince prodded.

  Charlie shook his head against Vince’s chest and reached his hands as far around his middle as he could reach.

  “Okay, we don’t have to play. But I love you more
than absolutely anything in the whole wide world. Do you know that much?” Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay, good. Listen, buddy, I know you don’t want me to be sad, but I’m your father, and it’s my job to make sure you’re not sad. Okay? You don’t have to worry about making sure I’m not sad. I’m thankful that you thought of me, but that’s not something I want you to have to worry about.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now about what your friend said—which friend, by the way?”

  “Adam…”

  “Ahh, the infamous Adam. Well, about what Adam said…It is true that you won’t have a mommy or daddy when I pass away, but that doesn’t mean you won’t have people who love you, or that you won’t have a family. Auntie Jen, Uncle Mitch, Angela, and all your relatives you went to see last weekend, they all love you very much, and they’ll all be there for you. No matter what you need, you can always ask them. They’re all your family.”

  “Even Angela’s my family?”

  “Even Angela. She loves you like crazy, buddy, you know that,” Vince said playfully. “So…even though you won’t have a mommy or daddy specifically, you’ll still have a family. Everybody’s family is a little bit different. You know this. We’ve talked about it. Not everyone has a mommy or daddy, and some have neither one.”

  “But I wanna have a mommy and daddy,” Charlie said, the force of his few quiet words and sniffles proving torturous to his father.

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I wish I could change that. But sometimes, you know, something bad happens to us, but then we realize how many good things we still have. You’ll still have a wonderful family who loves you, and a nice place to live with Auntie Jen, who makes really good cookies, right?”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said but without an ounce more enthusiasm.

  “And you have pretty much the world’s coolest uncle who lives in Chicago, and I bet he would love to have you come and visit him sometime, and show you all the neat places. And you have a big family in Madison, and you have an Angela. No one else in the world besides us has an Angela.”

  “There are other girls named Angela,” Charlie countered.

  “But none of them is quite as amazing as ours, right?” Vince said, tucking a finger underneath Charlie’s downturned chin and pulling it up. “Right?”

  A smile flitted across Charlie’s pouty lips. “Right.”

  “And she fights bad guys,” Vince said.

  “Just like you used to.”

  “Yup. And I think she reads bedtime stories even better than I do now, doesn’t she?”

  Charlie nodded and smiled fervently without regards to anyone else’s feelings. Vince was thrilled just to see him feeling something positive again. “So even when you go to heaven, Angela won’t go away?”

  Vince shook his head. “She will always be there for you, Charlie. She’ll still have her job to do, like now, but she’ll spend as much time with you as she can. She promised me that. How does that sound?”

  “Good. But I’ll still live with Auntie Jen, right?”

  “Right. Do you like that plan?”

  Charlie nodded. “Can I sleep over at Angela’s sometimes?”

  “I’m sure she would love that.”

  “Wait—is she gonna live here or at her old house?”

  Vince shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think she knows yet either. But either way, I’m sure she would love it if you slept over.”

  “And I can still tell her things?”

  “Of course. You can tell her anything.”

  “Like how I told her about Adam picking on me?”

  Vince’s heart skipped a beat. “You told her? When?”

  “I don’t remember. A long time ago,” Charlie said nonchalantly, not knowing how important his answer was.

  Vince knew he had to hold any further questions for Angela. He didn’t want Charlie to feel like he couldn’t trust her, and he certainly didn’t want to interrogate him. “Okay, yeah…if you ever want to tell Angela anything, that’s fine. She loves to listen.”

  “Can I talk to her now?”

  “She’s working, but I’ll tell you what. Once you and I are done talking, we’ll try calling her, and if she’s not too busy, I’m sure she’d love to say hello. Sound good?” Charlie nodded. “Okay. Now about what Adam said about the way I look. You know better than to tease people about the way they look, right?” Charlie nodded again. “Good. Not everybody understands how much that can hurt other people’s feelings, even when it’s not about them. Like how it hurts your feelings when your friend makes fun of me. But…sometimes all you can do is tell that person the truth. What do you think I look like?”

  “A cool biker guy,” Charlie said with a toothy smile.

  Vince chuckled. “Well, then, there you go. If anyone ever says they don’t like the way I look, you can just tell them that. Let them know that they’re wrong, and don’t let them change how you feel. Have you told Miss Quaid or any other teachers about this?”

  “No. I don’t want Adam to get in trouble.”

  Vince had feared that Charlie would feel that way. “Well, as nice as it is of you to want to protect your friend like that, he’s not being a very good friend when he hurts your feelings over and over again. It’s okay for you to ask for a grown-up’s help if someone’s upsetting you. Maybe all that needs to happen is for Miss Quaid to talk to him, and he’ll stop. And if that doesn’t work, Miss Quaid and I can talk to his parents. Have you asked him to stop picking on you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, maybe he doesn’t think you mean it. In any case, I’m going to send an email to Miss Quaid tonight and ask to meet with her first thing Monday morning. If the problem doesn’t go away, or it gets worse, we’ll deal with it from there. Can you do me a big huge favor?”

  “What?”

  “I know I said you don’t have to tell me everything—that you can talk to Dr. Birmingham, or anyone else instead—but can you make sure you tell me what’s going on in this situation specifically, now that I know about it?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Thanks a bunch.”

  “Are we done?” Charlie asked.

  “Sure, if you say we are.”

  “Can I call Angela now and say hi?”

  “Uh, sure. Go get my phone, it’s on the counter.”

  Charlie brought Vince his phone and Vince dialed for him, then handed it back.

  “Hi, Angela!” Charlie said, flopping against the side of the couch and smiling wildly. “It’s Charlie! Daddy said I could call and say hi…I’m good…Daddy and I are gonna do a puzzle…What’re you doing?…What’s a tip-line?…What’s a geo—giraffe profile?” Vince forgot his uptight mood and laughed at Charlie’s malapropism. “Geographical profile,” Charlie said, wandering off down the hall. Vince wanted to find a legitimate reason why Angela shouldn’t have told him about Charlie’s problem when she’d first heard about it. He wanted to be able to enjoy listening to Charlie ramble on to her about his day. But all he could feel was a mixture of incredulousness, betrayal, and uselessness.

  “Okay Daddy, Angela wants to talk to you now,” Charlie said, passing the phone back. He then knelt in front of the coffee table and opened up his puzzle.

  “Hey,” Vince answered, sticking to the couch, not wanting to tempt himself to get into any arguments with her right now. Not while Charlie was still awake.

  “Hi, honey,” Angela said pleasantly. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s going,” Vince said blandly. “Can we talk later tonight? I promised Charlie we’d work on this puzzle tonight and he’s raring to go.”

  “Oh. Umm, sure. I’ll call you in a few hours. I take it you want to talk privately?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I do. So just call when you can.”

  “Will do,” Angela said with a touch of concern. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  “We gotta find the corner pieces first,” Charlie told Vince the second he hung up.

  “Yeah, we
do. How about you look for the corner pieces and I’ll get all the rest of the edge pieces?”

  “Okay.” Charlie happened to look out the window. “Hey, Daddy! Look, it’s snowing again!” he cried, pointing.

  Vince felt a pang in his heart, wondering if these snowflakes might be his last. He’d been banking on one more pre-spring snowfall. But now he wished the snow would halt and not pick up again until Angela was with him. Even though he felt he could go on a tirade for the secret she’d kept and for Charlie’s resultant suffering, he still felt a suddenly stronger longing for her to be home.