Break and Enter (5 page)

“God, I hope so. This little boy has rung a bell with Mike and me.”

“Good for you. Now get some rest. And call me if you need to. I mean that.”

“Okay, Charles, I will, and thanks.”

Mike brought me a glass of wine, and I filled him in on my conversation with Charles. “Where’s your glass?” I said.

“I think I need to make a quick run to the store before I start drinking wine,” he said.

“What do we need?”

“Milk and cereal, for starters. Can you think of anything else?”

“Grab a box of oatmeal, the quick-cooking kind, and pick up one of those little night lights that plug into any socket. Robbie might wake up in the dark and be frightened.”

“Good idea. Anything else?”

“If you’re up to going as far as Walmart, you might buy some crayons and a coloring book. Whatever kiddie stuff you can think of. Just don’t get carried away.”

“Me, get carried away? Never happen.”

“Shut up and kiss me, then get out of here. Oh, and stop by an ATM somewhere—I gave Martha all of my cash. By the time you get back, I’ll have dinner ready.”

Mike went down the hall, and after a minute, I carried my glass into the kitchen. I rounded up all of Robbie’s clothes, including the sneakers he had been wearing, carried them down to the laundry room, and started a load. Back in the kitchen, I surveyed the available choices of ingredients and decided to try my hand at Janet’s recipe for picadillo. In almost no time, wonderful scents began to fill the air in the kitchen, and they must have drifted down the hall to the guest room, because Thor padded into the kitchen, sniffing.

“Those meat smells took you away from guard duty, didn’t they, boy?” I said, scratching one of his favorite spots. He had a hopeful look, but I told him, “You’ll have to wait until it’s finished.”

He gave me a look and disappeared back down the hall.

That dog is just too smart.

I went up to the loft, rummaged around in the desk, and found a yellow pad. Back in the kitchen, I sat at the table, sipping my wine and making sketches on the pad. By the time the food was ready, I had completed several pages of them. While I was moving Robbie’s clothes from the washer to the dryer, I heard the garage door open, so I went to help Mike unload the truck. The extended cab area behind the front seats was piled high with bags.

“What did you do, buy out the store?”

“Not really. I just picked up a few things here and there.”

I helped him carry his “few things” up to the kitchen and watched him empty the bags. In addition to the grocery items we’d discussed, he had bought ice cream and a host of snack items. In one bag, I found two coloring books and a large box of crayons. Yet another bag contained a few toys.

“What’s that big plastic bin for?” I said.

“He’ll need a box in which to store the toys.”

“You did good. Come over here and let me reward you.”

He moved up against me, and I put my arms around him. We kissed for a while, and he said, “That’s not the reward I really want, but it’ll do as a down payment.” He sniffed the air. “Something smells good.”

“I tried my hand at Janet’s picadillo recipe,” I said. “Have a seat, and we’ll see if you think I succeeded.”

I poured him a glass of wine, and he sat. As I was placing dishes on the table, he looked at my yellow pad and said, “What’s all this?”

“Look the sketches over and see how smart you are.”

In between bites of picadillo, he examined the sketches carefully. “I think you’ve got Janet’s recipe down pat, this is good.”

“Thanks.”

“On the other hand, it tastes slightly different.”

“That’s because I added a little garlic powder and some raisins.”

“Whatever it was, it certainly works. As for the sketches, they appear to be plans for a second story over our garage in Jacksonville, which will contain a master suite for us, and that leaves our old bedroom and bathroom downstairs for Robbie.”

“I knew you’d figure it out. What do you think of the idea?”

“I like it. What do you think it’ll cost?”

“Not as much as you might think. I can do the carpentry, and the homeowner’s test I took at the city zoning department is still valid, so I can do the wiring as well. All we have to subcontract out is the drywall work and the plumbing.”

“Sounds good. We can decide on which one of these three basic plans later. Right now, what are we going to do about space?”

“With Zeb and Zeke in the spare bedroom, it’ll be tight. On the other hand, they spend so little time at the house; they might be willing to use the sofa bed in the den for a few weeks.”

“That’ll work. Let’s just play it by ear and see what happens.”

I had left some ground beef in the skillet and set it on the floor for Thor. He made short work of it and gave me a look that clearly said “more.” We looked in on Robbie, who was still out cold; then we rolled the lounge chairs out onto the deck and settled back to enjoy the sounds from the stream.

“I just realized,” I said, “we won’t be able to jog up the mountain tomorrow morning.”

“No, but if Robbie feels like walking, we can surely walk to the top and back.”

“What if he gets tired?”

“Babe, that’s why we have broad shoulders. We can carry him, if need be.”

“Did you ever think you would have kids?”

“Not on your life, but this kid has been dropped in our lap, and I’m glad we’ve decided to keep him.”

“Ditto.”

“One thing for sure.”

“What?”

“When we get home, we won’t have to look any further than next door for a babysitter when we need one.”

“Mrs. T?”

Mrs. Tumblin was a retired nurse who lived next door to our home in Jacksonville.

“She’s tailor-made for the job.”

“That she is.”

“I’m going to get a refill,” Mike said. “How about you?”

“Sure. While you’re at it, you can check the dryer.”

“Consider it done.”

I heard the door open and close, and a few seconds later, a cold, wet nose brushed against my arm. Thor had decided to come outside when Mike opened the door. I rubbed a couple of his favorite places for a minute or two; then he trotted to the gate and down the steps to his run. The door opened and closed again, and Mike handed me a glass.

“Robbie’s clean clothes are folded and stacked on top of the dresser in his room,” he said. “Where’s Thor?”

“In his run, taking care of business.”

“I should have known.”

“I’ve been thinking,” I said.

“And?”

“This adoption thing should include changing Robbie’s name.”

“To what?”

“His surname ought to be Foster-Martin.”

“Not Martin-Foster?”

“Babe, we settled that argument when we formed our first corporation. Foster-Martin has a better ring to it.”

“Okay,” he said. “I wonder if he has a middle name?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Yep.”

“Do you think we should tell anyone about this?”

“It’s early days yet. When we get home is time enough.”

“The chief and Sarah are due up here next week, so they’ll be in for a surprise when we go see their new place.”

I hadn’t heard Thor come back to the deck, but I did hear him scratching at the door, his signal that he wanted to go back inside, so I got up and opened the door for him. Then I walked back to Mike’s chair, leaned over, and kissed him on the top of his head.

“It’s getting a bit chilly out here,” I said. “Why don’t you come inside and warm me up.”

“Race you.”

“One of us has to lock up, so no race.”

“If we both do it, it’ll take less time.”

We secured the house, turned off the lights, checked the status of our guest, and went to bed. The emotional excitement of the day carried over into our lovemaking, which was lengthy and more intense than usual.

•
4 •

I
WOKE
up early Sunday morning to find a pair of blue eyes staring at me intently—Robbie was sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing the T-shirt. Thor was curled up beside him on the corner of the bed.

“Good morning,” I said. “Remember me?”

“George,” he said.

“That’s right. We washed and dried your clothes last night, and they’re on the dresser in your room.”

“Okay.”

“Did you find the bathroom?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Okay. Let me pull some clothes on, and then we’ll see about getting you dressed and making breakfast.”

I slipped out from under the covers and pulled on the same clothes I had been wearing the day before. Then I took Robbie by the hand and led him back to his room. I took shorts, underwear, and a shirt from off the dresser, and handed them to him.

“Do you need any help getting dressed?”

“No, Sir.”

“How do you feel this morning?”

“I’m hungry, and my peter is kind of sore.”

“Doc Jenkins will be by later to see about the sore part. Do you like oatmeal?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Give me a minute to go to the bathroom, and I’ll get breakfast started.”

I left him to the task of getting dressed and headed to the bathroom for a long minute or two. In the kitchen, I poured a glass of milk, read the instructions on the oatmeal box, and decided to make enough for all three of us. While I was working on breakfast, Robbie came into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

“Help yourself to the milk,” I said. “I’m going to let Thor outside to do his business. Come on, Thor.”

Thor followed me to the door, and I opened it for him so he could take the stairs down to his run. I went back to the range and stirred the oatmeal. “It won’t be long,” I said, taking butter out of the refrigerator and setting it on the table. “Why don’t you go wake up Mike and tell him breakfast is ready?”

“Okay.” He left the kitchen and came back a few minutes later. “He says he’ll be out in a minute.”

“Thanks.” I put some bread in the toaster and poured coffee for Mike and myself just in time for Mike to appear in the kitchen.

“Morning.” He gave me a brief kiss.

“Just in time for your coffee. Breakfast in a few.”

“What are we having?”

“Robbie says he likes oatmeal, so I made enough for all of us.”

“Cool.”

I placed a fair-sized bowl of oatmeal in front of Robbie and poured some milk in it to cool it a bit. He attacked it with vigor, and Mike said, “I think he likes your oatmeal.”

“So it would seem. In fact, oatmeal is good for you. There is plenty of evidence to suggest that it helps lower cholesterol.”

“Nothing wrong with eating healthy.”

I put a slice of toast on a plate, buttered it, and said, “Robbie, do you want some jelly on your toast?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you like to go to McDonald’s?” Mike said.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Maybe we can do that for lunch.”

Robbie’s mouth was full of oatmeal, and he didn’t try to answer. I head a scratch at the front door, and I got up and let Thor back inside. He trotted over to the table and assumed his begging stance, so I said, “Robbie, you can give Thor a piece of your toast if you want to. Let me show you how.”

I broke off a corner of toast and held it above Thor, who was standing, tail wagging. I said, “Sit,” and Thor obediently sat and gently took the piece of toast from my fingers.

“Now you try,” I said to Robbie.

He took a small corner of toast and held it up in the air. Thor was again on all fours. “Sit,” Robbie said. Thor sat, and Robbie gave him his treat. He was grinning from ear to ear.

We finished our breakfast without much conversation. This kid was either naturally shy, or he was still so traumatized by recent events that he couldn’t carry on a basic conversation. Mike and I went to the bathroom and took turns brushing our teeth while Robbie watched us. I produced a new toothbrush, gave it to Robbie, and asked, “Do you know how to use this?”

“Yes, Sir,” he said. He proceeded to demonstrate by thoroughly brushing his teeth.

Robbie followed us to the great room, and Mike said, “Robbie, do you feel like going for a walk?”

“Where to?”

“George and I like to walk up the road to the top of the mountain and back down again. It’s good exercise. We take Thor with us, and you can come along, if you feel like it.”

“Okay.”

I retrieved Thor’s leash, clipped it to his collar, and the four of us headed down the steps and up the driveway. We walked at a much slower pace than usual, to allow for Robbie’s short legs to keep up. When we passed Lucinda’s Uncle Cyrus’s house, I said to Robbie, “Isn’t your house near here?”

“It’s over there,” he said, pointing at a small house about a quarter of a mile up the road. When we got closer, I saw the familiar yellow crime tape across the door.

Robbie made no comment as we passed the dirt track that led up to the little house, and I thought it best not to ask too many questions. We walked another half mile, and Mike reached down and picked Robbie up, placing him on his shoulders with his legs dangling down over Mike’s chest.

“Wow,” Mike said a few hundred yards later. “The addition of a few pounds of boy adds a whole new dimension to the exercise.”

“You can hand him off to me anytime.”

“Soon, soon. Is he enjoying the ride?”

“From the look on his face, I’d say yes. How about it, Robbie? Do you like riding on Mike’s shoulders?”

“Yes, Sir.”

We walked a while longer, and Mike stopped. “Okay, George,” he said, “it’s time to transfer this guy to you.”

He lifted Robbie up and transferred him to my shoulders. Then he took Thor’s leash and we continued up the mountain. After a while, I said, “I see what you mean, the extra weight adds a challenge.”

“Yep.”

We reached the top of the mountain, and I lifted Robbie off my shoulders, set him on the road, and said, “I’m going to let you walk downhill a bit.”

“Okay.”

We walked back down to the cabin in relative silence. I was lost in thought, and I presumed that Mike was too. We got to the kitchen in time to answer the phone. It was Doc Jenkins, and he asked, “Is it okay for me to stop by and take a look at the boy?”