Willow Brook Road(95)

Bobby was sitting on the floor with his new Transformers, listlessly moving them around. He didn’t give Sam so much as a glance. Sam wanted to scream at the kid and remind him who was the boss around here, but something in the dejected set of Bobby’s shoulders kept him from doing that. Instead, he sat on the floor next to him.

After several minutes of continued silence, which gave both of them time to calm down and think, he asked, “Okay, pal, talk to me. What’s up?”

Bobby continued to pretend Sam wasn’t even there. When Sam touched his shoulder, Bobby jerked away. Even though Sam reminded himself that the kid was in some sort of turmoil, he was surprised by just how much the rejection hurt.

“How was school today?” Sam asked, searching for some logical explanation for Bobby’s mood. A bad day at school was the first thing that came to mind. He could recall a few of those in his own past.

He drew a shrug in response, which was better than being ignored, but not exactly illuminating.

“Did you have a test?” Sam persisted. Failing a spelling test or getting a math problem wrong in front of the class might seem devastating to a kid Bobby’s age. Or did they even have those sort of tests in first grade? It had been a very long time since Sam had started school.

Sam got nothing in response.

“At least recess must have been fun. Or did you fall down? Skin your knee?”

Again, nothing. Sam bit back a sigh.

“Did your teacher read to you today? I know you like that.”

Bobby’s scowl deepened and tears leaked out and trickled down his cheeks. “It’s not about school, okay?” he blurted finally. “Leave me alone.”

Sam inched closer, but didn’t reach out. “Sorry, buddy. I can’t do that. I know you’re upset about something. Remember what we decided when you first came to town?”

Bobby sniffed, but kept his gaze downcast. “What?”

“That we’re a team,” Sam reminded him. “That means I’m your backup, so if something or somebody makes you feel bad, I’m here to help.”

“You can’t fix this,” Bobby said wearily, clearly resigned to suffering alone.

His attitude made Sam want to cry. No six-year-old should be feeling this defeated. “Fix what? Maybe I can’t, but you have to tell me so I can at least try.”

Bobby gave him a what’s-the-point look, but when Sam continued to wait for a reply, he finally said, “Grandma called.”

“That’s nice,” Sam said carefully. Usually calls from his grandparents perked up Bobby’s spirits, but clearly there had been something different about this one. “What did she have to say?”

The forlorn expression that washed over Bobby’s face once more made Sam want to cry.

“She said it was Daddy’s birthday and asked me what I was doing to celebrate.” He turned to Sam, tears streaming now. “But I wasn’t doing anything, because I forgot.”

This time when Sam reached out to gather Bobby close, the boy practically threw himself into Sam’s arms, his shoulders shaking as he sobbed. Sam felt like joining in, letting go of the emotions that he’d kept mostly buried ever since the accident. Instead, he focused on Bobby, who was clinging to him as if he was afraid to let go.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, even though he knew nothing would ever be totally okay again.

Sam wished Robert’s mother were here so he could give her a piece of his mind, but rationally he knew she’d only reached out to her grandson as a way to feel connected to her son on a day she could no longer celebrate with Robert. She hadn’t meant to make Bobby feel bad for forgetting. Heck, even she probably knew that Bobby could barely remember where he’d kicked off his shoes the night before, much less important dates.

“I didn’t mean to forget,” Bobby whispered brokenly. “It doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten my dad.”

“I know, pal. And, believe me, your grandmother’s not mad at you. She’s probably just feeling a little sad today. You know, the way you feel sometimes when you think about your dad or your mom and realize you can’t see them.”

His cheeks still damp, Bobby gave Sam a hopeful look. “Could we do something for Dad’s birthday? It’s not too late, is it?”

“It is definitely not too late,” Sam said, making a spontaneous decision to make this right. This, thank goodness, was the sort of problem he could handle. “Carrie’s coming over in a little while. She’s bringing peaches and ice cream for dessert. Why don’t I ask if she can pick up some cupcakes and some birthday candles?”