“That’s great buddy. Is your uncle here?”
“No.”
She blinked. “Are you here by yourself?”
The door thumped again and the little boy vanished, only to be replaced by a slightly older boy with dark hair and dark eyes that were narrowed in an attempt to be threatening. It was oddly effective.
Troublemaker.
“I’m going to need to see some ID,” the boy said, and she laughed before she realized he was serious. She pulled her driver’s license out and pressed it up to the glass.
The boy studied it and then looked back up at her with his young/old eyes. “You here to rob us? `Cause there’s nothing here to rob. Not even a video game or computer.”
She shook her head.
“You going to kidnap us?”
“What? No!”
“Because you don’t want to kidnap Casey,” the boy said. “He wets the bed.”
“I do not!” a little voice yelled, and the boy jostled and grinned down at Casey, who must have hit him.
“I’m not kidnapping anyone.”
“That’s the sort of thing a kidnapper would say.”
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but she had no comeback. This boy totally had the better of her. Instead, she held up the keys. “I’m here to give Reese his car back.”
The boy looked down, presumably at his brother, and she had to admit this was the strangest, yet most thorough interrogation she’d ever been a part of.
There was another thump and the older boy vanished seconds before the door opened.
The two boys stood barefoot in the doorway, and somehow the sight of those small pink toes on the edge of the welcome mat brutally reminded her of their situation.
Orphans.
“Where’s your uncle?”
“He’s picking up Aaron from hockey practice,” Casey said, and the older boy punched him in the arm.
“You’re not supposed to say that sort of stuff, remember? We’re supposed to say he’s in the shower.”
“Sorry.” Casey’s lower lip started to shake. “I forgot. There are so many rules now.”
“I’m Lucy,” she said quickly, holding out her hand to the little boy, who grabbed it and shook using his whole body.
“I’m Casey. I’m five.”
“Wow,” she said, putting on a show of being impressed. “Big boy.” She turned to the older boy who still watched her with suspicion. Which, she supposed, was a good thing in this situation, but it made the boy look disturbingly old. “Who are you?”
“Ben.” He crossed his arms over his chest, effectively ending that discussion.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you guys. Is Reese here?”
Casey shot his brother a panicked, guilty look, but Ben just jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
Lucy stepped past the boys into the living room, which no longer looked like the love scene between a Laundromat and a sporting goods store. Reese, the quilt-covered blob on the couch, was still there, but he wasn’t just covered by a quilt anymore.
Balanced all over his body were toys, glasses and plates. Stuffed animals. A hockey puck.
He looked like an altar.
She glanced wide-eyed at the boys. Casey, at least, had the good sense to look guilty.
“It’s a game we’re playing,” he said.
“It’s a pretty strange game. Some of those glasses look heavy.”
“It’s none of your business,” Ben said.
Reese shifted and a full glass of water balanced on what had to be his head fell to the floor, spilling water everywhere. A stuffed bear followed, and so did a storybook and half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
“Uh-oh,” Casey muttered, running forward to clean it up.
Lucy stepped forward to help. She grabbed what looked like a dirty towel from the coffee table, but Ben snatched it out of her hands.
“You don’t use that,” he said, handing the green towel over to Casey, who quickly shoved it under the couch.
Ooooookay. “How about you go grab another towel from somewhere.”
“I’ll get it,” Casey said, darting off into the kitchen. Lucy picked up what had fallen off Reese and eyed what was still stacked on top of him.
Careful not to look at Ben, who radiated tension like a nuclear reactor, she picked up a glass plate and replaced it with a throw pillow, and on top of that she stacked the stuffed bear and a bunch of Legos.
“See?” she whispered. “You have to put your big things on the bottom so that there’s better balance. And things made out of glass don’t stack as well.” She grabbed a coffee mug from off Reece’s feet and replaced it with three race cars that she stacked on top of each other.
She glanced over her shoulder to see Ben watching her, his neck all red. His body was held so taut she thought he might snap right in front of her eyes, as if all the pressure inside of him were pulling him to pieces.
It seemed natural to hug him; it seemed, in fact, like that was exactly what he needed. She would be a heartless monster not to hug him—but when she reached out, he jerked back so hard he bumped into the coffee table.