“Well, you’ve had a lot on your mind.”
“Would you stop that!” Ben grabbed his briefcase.
“Look, Boss, I’ve got a ratty old sofa at home. It isn’t much, but if you like, I could put it in your office.”
Ben raised a finger. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll talk to you later.”
“I can’t wait. Stay out of trouble, Casanova.”
Chapter 3
BEN SAT IN A MOLDED plastic chair in the small conference room at Forestview Country Day School. He was trying his best to remain calm.
“I’m afraid I just don’t see the problem.”
Ms. Hammerstein, the head teacher in the infant care room, sported an unchanging placid smile. “Well, first of all, Mr. Kincaid, let me tell you what a wonderful child Joey is. So smart. Such a delight. We all love him very much.”
“Ye-es …”
“He’s a truly special individual.”
Ben refrained from drumming his fingers on the table. “Why do I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop?”
Ms. Hammerstein’s visage barely fluttered. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“The woman on the phone said there was a problem. That’s why we’re having this meeting, according to her. Because there’s a problem.”
“Well … yes.” Ms. Hammerstein opened the blue notebook on the table before her. “There have been a few … issues that have arisen. I wouldn’t have used the word problem—”
“The woman on the phone did.”
She scanned the page in her notebook with Joey’s name at the top. “Most of these—let’s call them observations—are what I would group under the general heading of compliance issues.”
“Compliance?”
“Yes.”
“Meaning he doesn’t do exactly what you want exactly when you want it.”
“Now, Mr. Kincaid. We try to be very flexible.”
“Doesn’t sound that way.”
“Mr. Kincaid … I assure you …”
“I’m sorry.” Ben realized he was acting like a typical father. How dare you suggest that my child has a flaw? “Let’s cut to the chase. What are these issues?”
“Well …” Ms. Hammerstein turned another page in her notebook. “Joey just … isn’t like the other children.”
“Why should he be?”
“He doesn’t play with the other children.”
“So he prefers his own company. Is that a crime? He’s shy.”
“He wanders off by himself.”
“God forbid. Let’s sic the robot dogs on him.”
She took a deep breath. “He doesn’t talk. Doesn’t even babble. Doesn’t engage in imaginative play like the other children.”
“Has it occurred to you that Joey has perhaps had a slightly more traumatic infancy than the other children?” Like being born to a mother already divorced for the second time. Like being abandoned when he was barely seven months old. Like being dumped on Uncle Ben, who didn’t know squat about how to take care of a baby. Like being placed in this concentration camp cum country day school so Uncle Ben could eke out what he laughingly called a living. “I think we should cut Joey a little slack.”
“I’m perfectly willing to cut him as much slack as he needs, Mr. Kincaid. But I am not willing to jeopardize his personal safety.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve already told you. Joey wanders off. He doesn’t listen. He doesn’t do as he’s told. It’s dangerous. Whenever we go outside, we have to watch him every second. If we blink, Joey wanders off by himself. He could get lost or hurt. There are only two teachers in each classroom, and twelve children. We can’t afford to have one person permanently assigned to preventing Joey from hurting himself.”
“Why not? God knows your tuition is high enough.”
“Mr. Kincaid, this isn’t about money. It’s about the fact that … that Joey isn’t like the other children.”
“So this isn’t about compliance at all. It’s about conformity.”
Ms. Hammerstein’s head tilted to one side. “Joey … does march to the beat of a different drummer.”
“But you’ll soon have him goosestepping with the other soldiers. Is that it?”
“Mr. Kincaid!”
Ben tried to get a grip on himself. He wasn’t being rational and he knew it. He took a deep breath and swallowed. “So what do you recommend?”
“I would like Joey to be examined by a professional.”
“What?” His shout practically lifted the ceiling.
“Nonintrusive, of course. The doctor would just come to the school and observe Joey.”
“The doctor. What kind of doctor?”
“Well …”
Ben’s jaw clenched together. “A shrink, right? You want to send him to a shrink.”
“I would like him to be observed by a specialist in pre-adolescent personality disorders—”
“He’s only thirteen months old, for God’s sake!” Ben leaped out of his chair. “What kind of people are you?”
“Mr. Kincaid, please stay calm. I assure you this is as hard for me as it is for you.”
“I doubt it!” Ben bounced back into his seat, hands folded across his chest. “I refuse to believe a thirteen-month-old kid can have some deep psychiatric problem.”
“I hope you’re right. If you are, then we can eliminate that possibility and explore some other possible cause. But we can’t reach any diagnosis without help.”
“I can’t believe you want to foist some headshrinker on my boy.”
“But he isn’t your boy, is he, Mr. Kincaid?”
That slowed him down a beat. “What do you mean?”
“Mr. Kincaid, I’m familiar with your situation. And believe me, I admire what you have done under such difficult circumstances. But at the same time, I can’t help wondering whether Joey might not be better off in … well, a more stable home environment.”
Ben felt his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean?”
“Please don’t think I’m being critical, Mr. Kincaid. I don’t mean it that way. But you are single, right?”
“Yes.”
“You live in a small apartment in a boardinghouse?”
“Yes.”
“You work full-time.”
“Right.”
“Your practice is … what’s the word?”
“Struggling?”
“Good. Struggling. And your work often requires you to be away from home at night.”
“Well, when I have a case in court.”
“And that happens …”
“Not as often as I’d like.”
The placid smile returned to Ms. Hammerstein’s face. “Don’t you see, Mr. Kincaid? Joey has had such a traumatic first year. He needs constancy. He needs to know there are people he can count on day in, day out.”
“He has a nanny—”
“He needs a parent.” She closed her blue notebook. “Maybe even two.”
Ben didn’t respond for several seconds. Dark thoughts raced through his head. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
“Well, before we do anything drastic, let’s get a doctor to see Joey. See what he says. Then we’ll go from there.”
“Fine, but I don’t want Joey to know he’s being tested.”
“He won’t, I assure you.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on Ben’s shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing, Mr. Kincaid.”
Ben wished he could bring himself to return the peacemaking gesture, but he couldn’t. “I hope you’re right.”
Ben picked up Joey in the Rocket Room. He swept the boy into his arms and they hugged. Or to be more accurate, Ben hugged Joey. Joey never hugged. He didn’t resist, but he didn’t hug. He was just there.
Ben held Joey up to his face and smiled. “Hey, pardner! Can you say hi to your uncle Ben?”
Joey didn’t answer. He was gazing off into space, at nothing in particular.