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"Thank you," Jake said calmly. "We're all a little thrown at the moment, and I apologize for not being in touch sooner."

"Oh, don't worry about that, Mr. Taggart. Really. How is Jacob?"

Jake's gaze slid to the living room. "As well as can be expected, I guess. His concussion seems better, but his arm's gonna be in a cast for a while. The rest isn't really sinking in yet." Or maybe it was, and Jake was still in denial too much to see it.

"That's understandable. The poor child." She paused for a long moment and Jake was struck by the woman's genuine concern. Suddenly, he wondered if he really could take Jacob from these people.

"Um. I just wanted to let the school know that Jacob will be out for the rest of the week, and possibly a little longer. Is there a way that someone, maybe one of his friends, could bring him his as-

signments so he doesn't get too far behind?"

"Of course. I expect that Tressa will be stopping in anyway, and I'll make sure that Miss Keene

knows to send his homework with her. And if, for some reason, Tressa isn't able to be there, don't

you worry. There will be a certain amount of latitude and leeway for Jacob, given the circum-

stances."

Jake found himself nodding. "Thank you. Could you give me some information while I have you

on the phone?"

"If I can." She was still warm and polite, but Jake could almost see the little flag of warning shoot up.

"I just need to know when school is done for the year, and if Jacob has exams or anything," he said 26

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gently.

"Oh! Well, no, he doesn't. I mean, considering the circumstances. There'll be tests, but they aren't run at special times or anything, just in regularly scheduled classes, and there will be a bit of leeway for him, of course. And the school year ends on May twentieth this year, so another three

weeks."

"Okay, thank you," Jake said, writing the date on a slip of paper. "And after the twentieth he doesn't have to go back for anything?"

"No, he'll be done for the year then. May I ask a question, Mr. Taggart?"

"Sure."

"Has someone been named Jacob's guardian yet? Has he got… someone?" She asked it tentatively, and even though Jake knew next to nothing about the school system he was pretty sure she was just

asking because she was worried, and not for any official reason.

"His mother named a guardian in her will," he assured her. "Jacob's going to be well cared for."

"Oh good," she said, and Jake smiled at her relief. "I was worried, to tell you the truth. A single mother, and all. It was on my mind. I'm glad that Jacob has family."

Jake bit his lip, suddenly aware of the silence in the living room, the game shut off. "Yeah. Family is important." He took a breath to steady himself and then said his thanks, once more checking that Jacob's assignments would find their way to him. Finally, he hung up and placed the phone on the

counter.

"You did that really well," Laura said to him, her voice soft. She had a necklace on; it said 'Laura'

in script, the gold catching the light. "Now, eat that sandwich your man made you and go be with

your family. We'll take care of the phones. Promise."

Jake nodded and picked up his plate. "Thank you. Both of you."

"Not a problem," Tracy assured him. "Wish like hell we didn't have to do it."

"Yeah. Me, too." And then Jake went to see if Jacob would eat anything.

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Jake had gotten only a few mumbled words out of Jacob by the time Tor got back with the grocer-

ies. Jacob said he wasn't hungry, which Jake both fully understood and knew was probably not en-

tirely true--he seemed to remember being constantly hungry at that age, but he didn't press the mat-

ter. So they sat in the living room together and flipped through TV channels without paying any

attention to what was on, lost in their own misery.

Jake knew he should be talking about something, but he had no idea what. Feeling utterly helpless

and lost, he chose instead to let Jacob lead the way with his blank stare and reflexive channel

changing. It might have been a cop-out, but somehow it seemed better than trying to fill the silence

with meaningless chatter that would just annoy them both. Jake wasn't sure he was even capable of

creating chatter; talking just wasn't something he did easily. He was immensely relieved when Tor

came back and he could go help unpack the groceries.

Jacob turned on his video game again, the soundtrack a far too happy background noise, but Jake

was glad he'd stopped with the remote. Tracy and Laura helped with the groceries, setting aside the

things they'd requested, and said they'd make up as many things as they could; Jake, Cath and Tor

were not to worry about food for after the funeral.

"Honestly, y'all will probably be swamped with food in the next few days," Tracy promised as she got her things together. "People will be dropping off all sorts of dishes any time now."

Jake and Tor nodded, remembering the casseroles and pans of food that had appeared at Becky's.

Meals seemed to be something that people easily offered as a way of support. Jake, for one, would

be grateful; anything to take a bit of pressure off.

It wasn't until the women had gone and Tor had started chopping peppers for a stir-fry that Jacob

roused himself from the couch and appeared in the kitchen. "You're cooking?" he asked, somewhat dubiously.

"Sure," Tor said with a grin. He reached for an onion. "Food doesn't get cooked by itself. You want chicken or steak?"

"Um, chicken, I guess." Jacob moved closer and watched as Tor quickly sliced the onion. "You cook a lot?"

"Well, sure," Tor said, his gaze on the knife. "We share, but now that we're not in the bunkhouse it's a matter of every other night, instead of once or twice a week. Plus, you know. Lunches, breakfast… sometimes a fourth meal if we're doing hay or working long days."

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Jake smiled as Jacob's head tilted. The expression felt odd, like his face was stretched, but he let it happen.

Tor caught the look on Jacob's face and chuckled for a moment. "That's the way it is, kid. No one

else is going to cook for us, so we do it. Been feeding myself since I was about nineteen--Jake's

been doing it longer, but that's just 'cause he's old."

Jake whapped Tor gently on the head. "Not old." Plus, it wasn't true--he hadn't started cooking for himself until he wound up on the ranch, and he was twenty-two then. At least he'd gotten better at it

as the years had passed.

As if reading his mind, Jacob asked Tor, "Are you good at it?" He picked up a mushroom and studied it curiously.

"What, cooking? Yeah, I guess so. Better than Taggart, anyway."

Jake whapped him again and Tor made a show of being injured, his free hand flying to his head.

"Don't be so mean! You'll rattle my brains if you keep hitting me."

Jake snorted. "They've been scrambled for years now."

"And yet, you keep me around."

"Yeah, well. You can cook. Now if you only mopped the floors I'd be a happy man."

Jacob was eyeing them, looking bemused. "You mop the floors?" he asked, pointing to Jake.

"Only when I have to," Jake admitted. "I'm better at laundry."

Jacob looked around the kitchen and set the mushroom back down carefully. Jake watched his hand

shake and sighed inwardly, then reached out and gave Jacob what he hoped was a reassuring

squeeze on the shoulder.

"Guess I... I guess there's a lot of stuff that has to get done around a house," Jacob said, blinking rapidly.

"Yeah." Jake watched carefully, not sure if this was the next step of Jacob's mourning or not, but utterly determined to do whatever Jacob needed. He had no idea what that would be, and Lord

knew he wasn't the greatest at taking nonverbal cues, but he'd try his best anyway.

Jacob sat at the table and was quiet for a long moment. Tor had apparently noticed the change in

his mood and glanced back at Jake, his eyes questioning until Jake nodded at him to keep cutting.

And Jake waited, his ass braced on the counter, his stomach in a knot.

Jacob stared at the table top, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. "She did everything for me," he said quietly. "I can't take care of myself. I can't cook, or do my laundry, or anything like that."

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"You don't have to." Jake moved to the table and pulled out a chair. "And you're not really supposed to know that stuff yet. I mean, some kids do, yeah, but it's not something that's required, you

know? You're fourteen--"

"Almost fifteen."

"Yeah, all right. You're almost fifteen. Your job right now is to grow up. You're supposed to be

playing soccer and going to school and learning how to think. You're supposed to be doing kid

things, not worrying about if you have clean shirts or what you're going to make for dinner. Right?"

Jacob shook his head. "It's just that... she did it all. I didn't help her much, just mowed the lawn when she told me to, and cleaned my room once in a while. She worked so hard, and I didn't even

think about it."

He looked up and Jake was fairly surprised to see that Jacob's eyes were dry. He sounded sad, of

course, and guilty, but he wasn't breaking yet.

"Baby, she wanted it that way," Cath said from the door to the hallway. "She wanted you to be a kid, like we didn't get to be."

Jake leaned back in his chair and watched Cath come in and sit down. She looked a little better,

rested, but nowhere near the woman she'd been a couple of months ago--hell, a couple of days ago,

he was sure. It was going to get worse, he knew.

Right then, however, there was yet another small hell to go through. No matter how things had

turned out for him and for his family after their long separation, nothing would change the way

they'd grown up or the fact that he'd left 'Lissa and Cath there. All he could do was sit and ac-

knowledge the shitty way things had been and accept it as a part of all of them.

Cath sat across from Jacob and looked at him with serious eyes. "Your mom wanted you to have

everything, you know. And when she couldn't give you a lot of material things, she decided that

you'd have the less tangible things we didn't have. A family who loves you, a chance to have a

happy childhood, a home where you knew you were loved and wanted. Look at us, honey. Look at

me and your uncle. When he left I wasn't even as old as you, and I didn't see him again until I was

damn near thirty. And when he left us, when he walked out because he couldn't stay anymore, he

was only two years older than you are now. That's what your mom came out of, the kind of place

she never wanted you to see."

Jacob looked at them both, his brow furrowed, and appearing far older than he should have.

"Okay," he said, nodding.

Jake sighed, out loud this time. Jacob was trying, he knew, but so many things were conspiring

against him really understanding. "Jacob, you don't have to feel badly about anything. You'll learn those things as you get older. Just keep being who you are, and try not to worry about it. You're

young, and you're not going to go out into the world without knowing how to take care of yourself-

-it's our job to teach you those things now, and you've got to know that your mom would have. I

swear, she never thought you were anything less than what she wanted you to be."

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"Yeah, okay," Jacob said quietly, his eyes fixed on the table again. "I just don't want to be a burden for anyone, and I am now."

"No, you're not," Cath said, patting his hand. "You're not, baby. We love you, and we're going to take care of you."

Jacob didn't look very reassured.

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The Flood

The next few hours descended into the sort of madness that Jake really disliked. Jacob retreated to

the living room once more and the sounds of his video games filled the small house, setting every-

one's teeth on edge, though that might have had more to do with a collective inability to know how

to deal with a hurting teenager. Shortly before Tor finished the stir-fry, a small whirlwind in the

form of a tiny Asian girl descended upon them and breezed through the kitchen with the calm

statement of, "I'm Tressa. Jacob needs me."

Jake and Tor blinked at each other and then turned to Cath, who merely shrugged and said, "Never

met her. Heard her name, though."

The three of them waited a few minutes before curiosity got the best of them and they oh-so-

casually looked into the living room. Tressa was sitting almost in Jacob's lap, one small hand on his

cast as she spoke earnestly and quietly into his ear. Jacob had his good arm around her shoulder, his

eyes fixed dead ahead although he appeared to be listening. Neither of them looked up at their

audience, and after a moment Jake and Tor went back to the kitchen.

"What do you think?" Tor asked, adding the chicken to the pan. "Girlfriend?"

"Like I'd know?" Jake shrugged and forced the entire thing out of his mind.

Tressa left a few minutes later as quickly as she'd come, pausing only long enough to shake their

hands and assure them that she'd be back the next afternoon with Jacob's homework.

Supper was subdued, the table conversation limited to passing the salt and pepper and compliments

to Tor. Jacob excused himself as soon as he was done, saying he was going to go lie down, and

Cath left for her apartment, promising to be back in a few hours.

"Why don't you stay there tonight?" Jake suggested. "Sleep in your own bed, get some rest."