She left Adam and went to Jamie. “You’re just in time to see the wedding reception.” She nodded for him to follow her, but he didn’t move.
Roan finally broke the silence. “Jamie,” he said so very nicely, “can I get you a chair?”
“Take my seat,” Ian said.
“What do you need?” Raine asked.
Their voices were subdued and slower than they usually spoke—and she couldn’t figure out why. Todd was still in the back, near Jamie’s old desk, and his eyes seemed to be a combination of concern and helplessness.
When she looked back at Jamie, she at last understood. In their daily activities, they were normal around Jamie. But now the chaos made them concerned about how he’d react. They had shut down all laughter because of what he’d been through.
While their love and care for him were evident, it still made her stomach heave to see them isolate him as they were doing.
“I think I should leave,” Jamie said and he turned toward the door.
Hallie didn’t know what she could do to stop this, but she damn well had to do something! She put her lips by Jamie’s ear. “You turn tail and run away and I will never give you another massage.”
When he looked back at her he had a bit of a smile. “Can’t risk that, now can I?”
“No, you can’t.” She was looking at him hard, using all she had inside her to will him to stay. It hurt to see him ostracized like this!
Adam stepped back so Jamie could get to the couch. Hallie watched them, so caring, so concerned, so gentle and nice—and she was so angry she wanted to shoot them. Not even Shelly with all her deep selfishness had ever made Hallie this angry.
She couldn’t sit down. Instead, she went to the kitchen. She needed to get away from them.
She stopped at the old countertop, her hands braced against it, and stared out the window. She was shaking all over as anger ran through her. How could they do that to him? Jamie had made jokes about his family treating him like glass, but it hadn’t really sunk in. She’d laughed at the images he’d brought to mind. But what she’d just seen wasn’t funny.
Behind her, she heard the TV come back on, but the sound was turned way, way down. Old people’s homes down. Don’t wake your dad down. Don’t send Jamie into a panic attack down.
“They want more potato chips,” she heard from behind her and knew it was Cory’s voice.
Hallie had to take a few deep breaths before she could turn around to look at the child. She was standing there holding a big empty bowl and looking up at Hallie with almost fear in her eyes.
“Are you mad at Jamie?” Cory’s lower lip trembled.
Hallie took the bowl from her and set it on the table. “No. Not at all. But I’m very angry at everyone else in that room.”
Cory blinked at that, then smiled. “That’s okay. I get mad at them all the time. But if you yell at Jamie he might get sick again.”
“Does everyone always get quiet when Jamie comes in?”
“Yes,” Cory said, then lowered her voice to a whisper. “Sometimes
Jamie can’t remember where he is.”
“I know,” Hallie said, “but I think he’s better now.” She stood up straight. From what she’d heard, Jamie had been back from the war for a long time and he had improved a great deal. But they were still treating him as though he’d come home from the hospital yesterday. If only she could show them that he no longer needed what they were doing for him—at least not to the extent of silence.
When an idea came to her, she tried to stamp it down. What she was thinking of doing could backfire, and if it failed, it could make Jamie’s life worse. It might reinforce the awful—but caring—way his family treated him.
On the other hand, she thought, maybe it could help. She looked down at Cory. “Are you any good at making noise?”
“My dad says I’m the best there is,” she said.
Hallie nodded. “I want you to get Max in here. I have a job for you two.”
Cory didn’t hesitate as she ran to get her brother.
By the time they’d returned, Hallie had pulled three big metal pans and spoons out of the cabinets. She handed one of each to the children and kept one for herself.