The light outside began to fade.
Maddie sat on the living room rug, lining up her toys.
Bentley had moved to the kitchen table.
His backpack rested beside him instead of on his shoulders.
I took that as a good sign.
He had started to believe he could stay in one place for a while without something going wrong.
I made a simple dinner.
Soup, bread, and sliced apples.
Maddie ate slowly, telling me about a toy she had misplaced.
Bentley listened to every word.
When she finished, he helped her wipe the table.
I watched him carry the plates to the sink.
He was careful.
Too careful.
He checked the floor for crumbs and put the bread back into its bag.
He had learned to treat food as something that might run out.
I wanted to tell him he didn't need to worry about that here.
Instead, I showed him where I kept the bread and fruit.
“If you're hungry, you can ask me.”
He nodded.
“And if you need something for Maddie, you can ask me for that, too.”
He looked at me.
“Even if it's late?”
“Even if it's late.”
He seemed to store the answer somewhere inside himself.
After dinner, I helped Maddie get ready for bed.
She wanted her stuffed animal beside her pillow.
Then she wanted it under the blanket.
Then she decided she wanted it beside her again.
I went along with every request.
Bentley stood in the doorway, watching us.
When I finished, Maddie reached for his hand.
He took it.
“Can you stay until I sleep?”
“Of course.”
He sat beside her bed.
I left the door partly open and returned to the kitchen.
The telephone sat beside the coffee maker.
I checked it again.
No missed call.
No message.
I felt my worry hardening into determination.
I had made one attempt to contact the hospital.
That wasn't enough.
I needed to make sure someone understood the situation clearly.
Amber had been gone for nine days.
Her son said she had fallen at work.
He said she had called from Ball Memorial Hospital.
He said she had undergone surgery and sounded confused during their last conversation.
He had not heard from her for six days.
Meanwhile, he and his three-year-old sister had been alone.
Those were the facts.
I didn't need to add anything to them.
They were serious enough.
I picked up the telephone again.
Before I could make another call, Bentley appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“Is something wrong?”
I put the phone down.
“Nothing new. I'm trying to find out what's happening with your mom.”
He nodded, but I could see the fear returning.
I pulled out a chair.
“Come sit with me.”
He did.
“I know you want her to come home,” I said.
He nodded.
“And I know you're afraid that asking for help will make things worse.”
He stared at the table.
“But you can't be the only person who knows what's happening.”
He was quiet.
I continued carefully.
“Imagine if something happened to you while you were looking after Maddie. Who would know she needed help?”
He looked up sharply.
I regretted the example as soon as I saw his expression.
He was already imagining dangers.
I didn't need to give him another one.
“I'm sorry,” I said. “I didn't mean to frighten you.”
He looked down again.
“I just want Mom.”
“I know.”
I reached across the table.
“You don't have to stop wanting her. You don't have to stop loving her. Getting help doesn't change any of that.”
He rubbed his thumb against the edge of the table.
“Mom was scared when she told me about the homes.”
I remembered.
“Did she tell you what she was afraid of?”
He nodded.
“She said she never knew how long she'd stay somewhere.”
He paused.
“Sometimes she had to leave people she liked.”
I felt the words settle heavily between us.
Amber had told her son about the uncertainty of her childhood.
Perhaps she had wanted him to understand why she worked so hard to keep their family together.
Perhaps she had wanted to prepare him for a world she didn't entirely trust.
But Bentley had heard the fear more clearly than the lesson.
He had taken his mother's history and turned it into a warning.
If anyone found out they were alone, the worst thing he could imagine might happen.
“I can understand why that frightened you,” I said.
He nodded.
“But you and Maddie need to be safe tonight.”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Can we sleep here?”
The question came so quietly that I almost missed it.
I felt my throat tighten.
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
“Both of us?”
“Both of you.”
He looked relieved, but only for a moment.
“Will we have to go back tomorrow?”
“We'll work out tomorrow when it comes.”
He seemed to accept that.
I didn't want to promise something I couldn't guarantee.
But I could make sure they weren't left alone that night.
I found clean blankets and prepared a place for Bentley to sleep.
Maddie was already asleep in the back bedroom.
I checked on her and tucked the blanket around her feet.
Bentley stood behind me.
“She likes it when someone stays until she's asleep,” he whispered.
“I noticed.”
“She gets scared if she wakes up and nobody's there.”
I turned toward him.
“And what about you?”
He looked confused.
“What about me?”
“Do you get scared?”
He shrugged.
I waited.
Finally, he nodded.
“Sometimes.”
I didn't ask him to explain.
I simply rested my hand on his shoulder.
“It's all right to be scared.”
He looked away.
“I have to be brave.”
“You've been brave for a long time.”
His eyes filled again.
“But you don't have to be brave every minute.”
He stood very still.
Then he leaned against me.
It was brief.
A small, uncertain movement.
But I felt the weight of it.
He had been holding himself together for nine days.
He had been making breakfast out of crackers, getting himself to school, and trying to keep his sister calm.
He had been waiting for a telephone call that never came.
And now he was finally allowing another person to see how tired he was.
I held him for a moment.
Then I let him go.
He wiped his face and went to sit on the bed I had prepared.
I returned to the kitchen.
The telephone was still there.
I picked it up and looked at the number I had tried earlier.
I couldn't keep hoping someone else would notice what was happening.
I couldn't keep treating the problem as if it would disappear once the children had eaten and slept.
Feeding them was necessary.
Giving them a safe place was necessary.
But neither thing answered the question that had brought us here.
Where was Amber?
And why had she been unable to call her children for six days?
I took a breath and prepared to make another attempt to get answers.
This time, I would explain everything I knew.
Not because I wanted to frighten Bentley.
Not because I wanted to interfere in Amber's life.
Because two children were waiting for their mother, and waiting alone had already cost them too much.
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: I Held the Telephone Beside the Kitchen Table, Knowing That Every Answer I Could Give Bentley Was Smaller Than the Fear He Carried
I Thought My Neighbor’s Boy Just Needed a Bathroom, Until One Quiet Morning Revealed What He Had Been Hiding
Part 8 of 20
