Tony couldn’t get Jacob to stop crying.
He sat in the cramped window seat of the airplane, parked on the tarmac, with Jake wrapped around him like a baby monkey. Ant was to his left in the aisle seat, and across the way Clark had his own seat.
Beside Clark, there was nobody. An absence where Amber was supposed to be.
Jake had cried most of the way to the airport, unconvinced by Tony’s reassurances. He’d thrown himself onto the floor when it was time to move to the front of the security line and then, when that nightmare was over, had sobbed so hard Tony thought the kid might throw up as he dragged him onto the moving walkway toward the gate.
I want Mom, he said again and again. When is she coming? Why did you leave her there?
Clark remained sullen and silent, refusing to speak to Tony ever since he’d made him go sit in the van. Ant wouldn’t shut up, wouldn’t stop hopping around like someone had slipped him a hit of some really good drug that made it vitally important for at least one part of his body to remain in motion at all times.
And his mother-in-law kept looking at him. She had this beady eagle gaze—exactly how she’d looked at him eleven years ago when she found out Tony had gotten Amber pregnant with Clark. Like she was considering shackling him to a rock, ripping open his torso, and leaving him there for the birds to eat his entrails.
She was doing it now, staring at him with bright eyes and tight lips as she approached along the narrow aisle of the airplane.
“We should switch seats,” she said. “I’ll take him, and you can sit by Derek.”
You suck at this, was what she meant. Only my daughter and I know how to calm your kids down, because you are never home. You’re no kind of father at all.
“I’m fine here,” he said.
Jacob wailed, “My head hurts!”
Amber always made Jake drink a Coke after he threw up, but they’d had to rush through security and right onto the plane, and Tony hadn’t been able to buy one yet.
“Did you give him ibuprofen?” Janet asked.
It was hard to hear over the wailing. Tony had to shout. “I don’t have any.”
Probably Amber had ibuprofen in her purse. She carried everything—tissues, medicine, Band-Aids, snacks, water, Super Glue, batteries. He teased her sometimes that her bag was like a magician’s hat. You got a meatball sub in there?
Janet sighed dramatically.
“What, and you do?” he asked.
Her mouth tightened, the frown lines creasing up.
Fuck. Now he was pissing off his mother-in-law.
Better to make her feel useful than to get on her bad side. Last time it happened, he’d stayed there for a couple years.
“Can you do me a favor and ask one of the flight attendants for a can of Coke?”
“You’re going to reward him for throwing this fit?”
“The caffeine makes his head feel better.”
“Oh.” Her eyes flicked down the aisle. “Derek! Don’t put the bag in like that. You have to turn it.”
“I need a Coke!” Jacob howled.
“Can I have one, too?” Ant asked.
“Give Grandma one minute.” To her grandsons, she was soothing. Almost sweet. “We’ll get you sorted out.”
She moved off down the aisle, and Tony dropped his head against the back of the seat, closing his eyes, smoothing his hand up and down Jacob’s back.
“Dad?” Ant asked. “Can I have one?”