Here Without You
When the doorbell chimes, I freeze in place. I can’t breathe.
‘Go and answer the door, honey,’ Kathryn urges, slipping outside with Glenn so River won’t be overwhelmed with new faces, everyone hovering, before he even gets in the door.
I walk to the door, shaking, and pull it open, hoping my smile looks friendly instead of panic-stricken. There he stands, gripping Kris’s hand as securely as I’d held Reid’s on Wendy’s front porch just a week ago. Next to him is a miniature rolling case shaped like a rather squared-off frog. Green, of course. He makes no move to enter, and his unsmiling expression doesn’t waver.
According to Wendy, River is forty inches tall and weighs thirty-four pounds, putting him in the sixteenth centile for both height and weight. The medical consensus: nutritional deprivation for some portion of his first few years; with proper nourishment, he may be able to make up for some of it. In our pre-visit call last night, she notified me about his food hoarding, and the psychological causes of it. ‘Also, he sometimes experiences nightmares – and occasionally, night terrors. Most nights, now, he sleeps just fine. But these are a possibility since he’ll be in an unfamiliar environment.’
I calmly accepted everything Wendy said, asking pertinent questions and taking meticulous notes, and when I got off the phone, I walked to the creek, sat on my rock and cried until my throat was raw.
I squat down to his level and fix a careful smile on my face. I’m an actor. I can do this.
Years ago, I found a skittish litter of kittens living under Glenn’s tool shed. They were lightning-fast balls of fluff, and I wanted to hold one of them more than life itself. So I sat in the grass all afternoon, as close to motionless as I could manage, cooing and sweet-talking as though I was the safest girl who ever lived.
Moderating my voice in that same way, I speak to my son, to whom I am still a stranger.
‘Hello, River. I’m glad you’ve come to visit. Would you like to come inside?’
Like those kittens, his dark blue eyes regard me warily, assessing whether I can be trusted. An eternity passes before he nods, once.
Standing, I welcome Kris as well and offer to take River’s case. His soft little fingers brush mine as he passes the handle to me, and I turn and lead the way through the living room and down the wide hallways, biting my lip.
‘Your room is right next to mine. Here we are.’
Pausing in the doorway, he angles his head and scans the room – eyes moving deliberately over each individual object. I place his case on the bed and wait. When his gaze reaches me, he doesn’t skip past. I’m given the same careful regard as everything else. The thing that finally lures him into the room is the golden-coated stuffed puppy. Drifting closer, he comes to the opposite side of the twin bed, chewing his bottom lip. Kris remains in the doorway.
‘I think that puppy needs to be held.’ My voice is still whisper-soft. ‘Know why?’
His eyes flick to mine.
‘Because we’re having hot dogs for dinner, so he’s a little worried.’
One eyebrow quirks up, and I suppress a gasp – for the beat of two seconds, he is Reid, and I know in that moment that he’s going to be fine. I’ve never known anyone as stubborn and indomitable as this child’s father … unless it’s his mother. He’s survived the hand he was dealt because he’s tough as nails, as small and breakable as he appears.
I quirk a brow back at him. ‘We’re going to eat outside. You can bring him along if you want. He doesn’t have a name yet. I was thinking about calling him Hot Dog, but maybe that’s why he’s worried about what’s for dinner.’
His mouth twists on one side this time, his eyes shifting back to the puppy.
‘Kris, would you like to stay for dinner?’ I offer.
She shakes her head, smiling. ‘I think you’ve got this. Let me know if you need me – you have my numbers?’
I nod. ‘Programmed into every phone we’ve got, and your card is on the fridge.’
‘Awesome.’ She turns her smile to him. ‘Goodnight, River. I’ll see you tomorrow after lunch, okay?’
When I turn back, he has the puppy clutched to his chest. He looks at me one more time before nodding to her, giving her permission to leave him here with me. Alone.
26
RIVER
Brooke is pretty. Her hair looks soft, and I like her smile. Kathryn is nice, and even Glenn is nice. He’s way, way bigger than Harry, but he doesn’t scare me. He shows me how he makes broccoli taste better by sticking the tree part into a bowl of cheese.
I didn’t know cheese could come in a bowl. I like it.
Brooke and Kathryn don’t eat the cheese, but Glenn does and I do. I try my potato sticks and my hot dog in it too. (The food hot dog, not the puppy Hot Dog.) I try dipping a berry in it, but that isn’t very good.
After we eat, I pick up my empty plate. One of my chores at Wendy’s house is to help clear the table. Kathryn smiles and says, ‘Thank you, River.’ She shows me where to put it in the kitchen.
Brooke asks if I want to walk to the creek and we go back outside. There is no fence around their house. I can only see one other house and it is far away.
Brooke makes me step around a big ant pile out in the grass, but the ants are all running around carrying things and I want to look. She says it’s okay to watch the ants if I don’t get too close. There are so many ants that I can’t count that high.
‘If you get too close, they think you’re a big monster, and they all bite you to make you run away,’ she says. ‘See, one bit me last week.’ She shows me a red spot on her ankle.