Page 85 of Broken
After they finished their masterpieces, she said, “This is us playing with the new ball I brought.” She slid the piece of paper into the center of the table, pulled another and started drawing a picture of the puppies, along with their mom.
“What are those?” Ethan asked.
“My brother’s dog had puppies,” she explained. “I got to see them and they’re little and cute. Do you like dogs?”
“My mommy said maybe we can have a dog when I’m bigger, but they’re too much work now.”
“Do you like dogs?” Jacqueline repeated her question.
“Uh-huh.” As he colored, he stuck his tongue out. It was adorable and something she’d seen other children do. “Are you Uncle Prescott’s special friend?” Ethan asked.
She glanced at Prescott.
“I’m his work friend,” she replied. “What do you know about special friends?”
“Mommy has a special friend, but he makes scary faces at me. I don’t like him.”
She jumped her gaze to Prescott, then back to Ethan. “I don’t like scary faces either.”
“Did you tell him to stop?” Prescott asked.
“Yes, but he didn’t.”
“I don’t make scary faces, ever,” Jacqueline added. “What’s your mommy’s friend’s name?”
“Mr. Man.”
“Well, I’ll keep him away from you,” she said, “And I’m sure Uncle Prescott will too.”
“Absolutely,” Prescott replied.
Ethan eyed the blue bouncy ball. “Is that your ball?”
“It’s for you.” Jacqueline sipped more water. “Maybe we can go outside and play with it.”
Ethan set down the crayon and picked up the small glass with both hands. He drank down the water. “Can I have more?”
Relief had her smiling. “Absolutely.”
She filled their glasses. Together, they colored and sipped water. While she normally worked long hours and pushed hard for results, she knew she had to tread lightly until they could find solid footing.
Next, they went outside and played with the new ball. Ethan was an energetic, naturally athletic, little boy. The physical activity seemed to lift his spirits, or maybe give him a respite from thinking about his loss.
When Prescott took Ethan upstairs for his afternoon nap, Jacqueline retrieved her laptop and waited at the four-chair kitchen island.
A moment later, Prescott returned, his laptop in hand. “Thanks for hanging in. Ethan’s registered for daycare at Armstrong, but it’s too soon for him to go.”
“You’re his anchor and he needs to know you aren’t leaving him,” Jacqueline said. “How are you holding up?”
He fastened his gaze on her. “Me? I have no fuckin’ idea. My priority is him, but I feel the pressure of helping you get started on our case.”
“We’ll get there,” she said. “What are you doing about your job at Armstrong?”
“I took leave. My assistant will delegate or reschedule anything not urgent. Where’d you end up staying?”
“A friend’s condo in Arlington.”
“Are you safe?”
