Done Adulting Vol. 1 Ch. 63

“Walk or stroller?” Another perk of the stroller: he didn’t have to walk after eating so much food. He’d be comatose if he ate that much little food.

“Stroller,” he burped accidentally.

“Ha! Need a tummy rub?”

“That actually sounds like a horrible idea … urp.”

“Ha! Feel better?” She got him in and started walking toward the park. It really was a perfect day outside. One of those halfway days between summer and autumn when the temperature is perfect and the air is not too humid or too dry. How many of those are there in a year? Six? Seven?

“We can go straight home if you want,” she offered.

“No, it’s too nice out, and I really should get a little bit of exercise.”

The park was pretty full, the playground a zoo. With no open bench, they sat on the grass and talked.

“You ready for another week of daycare?”

“I guess. It wasn’t so bad after Ella showed up.”

“You figure out what her deal is yet?”

“No. I’m not sure there’s a polite way to ask. She did show me her scar.”

“Where is it?”

“Along her spine. I don’t know where it stops, but it starts at her neck. Her hair covers it. She didn’t say what it was from, but that could be because you and Mom showed up right then.”

“Does she seem shy about it?”

“Not exactly. She just doesn’t talk about it. I wouldn’t have even thought to ask except she walks a little slow and seems to get tired easily.”

“Was she glad to see another unregressed little?”

“I guess. She’s pretty subdued all the time.”

“What else do you know about her?”

“She’s an artist. Or at least she studied art in college. That’s all I know.”

“How’s everything else there?”

“The headphones really help. It’s just loud there. I guess I’m getting used to it. Sorta worried about winter when we can’t be outside all the time.”

“Cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“I guess the real issue is every day is the same. Imagine being retired and being in the same place doing the same things every day with no end in sight. Read, draw, go outside, repeat.”

“Yeah, Mom’s been trying to find some kind of program where you’re not always there. Maybe like one day a week or something.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe an in-home daycare with a smaller group, or a field trip program.”

“Field trips sound fun.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind going on a field trip once a week. Problem is there aren’t any that go anywhere you would like, at least that we’ve found so far.”

“I think I’m ready to get up.”

“Wet or dry,” Amanda asked.

“Wet, I think.”

Amanda’s brow wrinkled. “What does ‘I think’ mean? You’re not ...”

“No! I’ve just gotten so used to going whenever that I don’t always remember if I went or not.” She felt his crotch through his shorts and found him damp.

“I still think this is good for you, but I don’t want you to actually start needing these,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Well, we’ll pay attention to it.” She looked at the line to the changing room. “We can wait in line or do this out here.”

“Out here?” Jamie looked incredulous. In an open field?

“We did it at the beach, twice. That looks like at least a 20-minute line. Besides it won’t take long.”

“Fine. Quickly, though, please.” He laid back and let Amanda do her thing. “Feels good,” he said.

“The cream?”

“The air.”

“Well, that’s the best thing for a diaper rash.”

Jamie sat up on one elbow. “Not going nude at the park.” At least, not any more nude than he was right then.

“I meant at home.”

“O,” he said, laying back down. “Maybe.”

With his shorts back on, Jamie sat up. “Whatcha wanna do?”

Jamie looked at the field and tag game. He didn’t really want to get all sweaty on top of the irritation he already had down there.

“Maybe just go on the playground, climb around a bit.” It was crowded but he’d make do.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No, that’s okay.”

The two of them walked over to the playground and Jamie disappeared into the crowd while Amanda stood off the path with the stroller and struck up a conversation with another young woman.

“Which one is yours?” The woman looked around trying to spot her little.

“Her, in the hat,” she said pointing. “I’m Alice.”

“Amanda. My guy is ... the one hanging from the bar behind the thing,” she said when she saw him through the crowd.

“Is he yours?”

“My little brother.”

“My little sister.” They talked about the joy of having a little sibling in their lives.

Jamie was using the monkey bars and climbing up the slide and doing what he could to get a little exercise without getting too sweaty. The day was working against him, not because it was too hot but because he had a belly of heavy food and the perfect temperature and air were making him sleepy. After one more pass down the monkey bars, he dropped down and went to go lay on the grass for a moment. So many people were around he had to walk a little further to feel comfortable no one would step on him, especially a little. He only needed to go ten feet outside the playground boundaries. He turned to make sure he could still see Amanda and waved. She waved back.

Jamie laid down with his knees up and crossed one leg over the other with his hands behind his head. He could feel the leaves move, letting sunlight fall and pass back and forth over him in the breeze, the shade and light running warm and warmer over his body.

He started to doze when the sunlight suddenly went away. He opened his eyes to find a big child standing in his light.

“Hello,” Jamie ventured. The kid was probably about a foot-and-a-half taller than Jamie and with a heavier build.

“Hi.” Jamie guessed he was about six; he seemed to speak fine, but he did have an accent, though, his ‘Hi’ coming out ‘Hiy.’

They stared at each other for a moment. Jamie hadn’t interacted with a big child yet. It was an odd feeling knowing this person towering over him was 20 or more years his junior.

“Vhat are yoo duing,” the boy asked.

“Just resting.”

“O.”

“Do you want to sit down?”

“No, I vunt to playe with you.”

“That’s very kind of you, but …” The boy grabbed Jamie by the arm and yanked him right from the ground. He was tall enough and strong to pick Jamie up, but not strong enough carry him without wrapping both arms around Jamie’s middle and waddling away.

“Put me down!” Jamie said it as loud as he could. “You’re hurting me!”

The boy turned to walk away from the playground, and Jamie saw a half dozen bigs running toward him. Jamie was relieved to see it, but the boy was still squeezing him much too tight.

Jamie cocked a fist back as his inner voice was crying out, ‘MORAL DILEMMA! MORAL DILEMMA!’ He only had to wait a moment before one of the bigs reached him. The boy was losing his grip and tossed Jamie upward to reset his arms around his waist, digging deeper into his lower back. The inner voice screamed, ‘DO IT ANYWAY!’ With a face half pained by what was being done to him and half pained by what he was about to do, Jamie threw his fist as hard as he could at the boy’s eye, connecting just to the left of his target, catching the boy half in the eye and half on the bridge of his nose.

The boy stumbled backward, dropping Jamie, who fell and twisted his ankle as he landed. Some big stepped around the boy and picked Jamie up in his arms. Before he was even settled, Amanda appeared and snatched him away, the man seeing she was his and letting her take him. Amanda put her hand on the back of Jamie’s head and gently pushed his cheek to her shoulder, softly bouncing and shushing him. A crowd was forming. Amanda turned away, and Jamie saw there were now two more bigs, a man and a woman, just behind Amanda. The man looked angry; the woman looked concerned, dodging around Amanda to pick up her crying child.

The man had a finger pointing at Jamie and had his mouth open to say something when someone new stepped between them, shouting, “Back up!” Amanda spun back around. Now Jamie was facing the boy and his mother, her cooing at him. Behind the woman was a semi-circle of bigs and some littles. The littles looked scared. Some of the bigs looked on calmly but clearly angry. A few looked livid.

The woman said something unintelligible; the boy was quietly crying. The man who seemed to be her husband started shouting. Amanda stepped away from all of it.

“Are you okay?!? O, I’m so sorry,” she sniffled. “I’m so, so sorry.” She was squeezing him nearly as tight as the boy had. Jamie could survey the whole scene from where she stood, and he was wide eyed. The crowd was still standing there. The woman was rocking her child. One man was shouting in too thick an accent for Jamie to understand. Another man, Jamie thought he was the one who had picked him up, was speaking form but not shouting, trying to get the other one to stop calm down.

The foreigner threw down his hands in disgust and stomp-marched toward Amanda, the other man right next to him and looking ready physically intervene if the foreigner didn’t calm down. The mother walked over slowly with a thin, insincere smile.

Amanda shifted Jamie to her hip and turned half-profile, keeping most of herself between the angry man and Jamie. Jamie could see nearly everyone had their phone out recording what was happening. Cognizant of the good samaritan standing right next to him, the foreigner stopped shy of Amanda and kept his hands at his sides, loudly asking, “Vell!?!”

The woman reached the group and stood part way between her husband and Amanda, wearing that insincere smile and trying to de-escalate the situation. “He fine! He fine,” she said, patting her husband on the arm. The rage drained from his face, leaving just anger. He said something in a foreign language, and she answered.

The woman turned to Amanda and tried to explain, “He don’t know his own strength. He very sorry.”

The man said something to his wife in the other language and turned back to Amanda. “Does not matter. He hit my boy.”

Amanda found her voice, the calmest angry version of it she could manage. “He was defending himself! Don’t you know better than to let a kid his age near littles? Where were you?”

“Does not matter! He’s a little.”

“It fucking does matter here!”

“In my country, we would fix him so he never can hit again!” He ended the sentence with some angry foreign word, and they couldn’t tell if it was directed at Amanda or Jamie. The Itali man edged closer.

The woman tried again, saying something to her husband and then to Amanda. “Is misunderstanding. You punish him. We watch. No police needed.”

Jamie saw Amanda’s eyebrows climb up her forehead like they were trying to get away, something he’d noticed they had a tendency to do right before she lost her temper. Jamie couldn’t understand all of what she started screaming, but he heard at least eleven swear words used at least three times. The couple started shouting back, and the man put himself between them, shouting over the others trying to get them to calm down.

A police officer parted the crowd and approached. Jamie wondered who called him. His presence turned the screaming back into shouting, which he added to. “Step back! Step! Back! SHUT UP!!” Now everyone was quiet. He reached to the mic on his shoulder. “11-32 to KGA. I need two additional units on scene.”

The mic crackled back, “KGA to 11-32. Two additional units are en route.”

The officer turned to Amanda. “Is this your husband, Miss,” he said, indicating the bystander who had stepped in.

“Um, no.”

“Sir, I’m gonna need you to wait right over there … Yeah, right there.”

“And sir,” he said to the purple-faced father, “Can you please take your family right over there.” He pointed a few yards away. “Be with you in a moment.”

Amanda’s adrenaline was running out, and she was shaking, her eyes full of water. The officer turned back to Amanda, “What’s your name, Miss?”

“A-man-da,” her voice quavered.

“Amanda, I’m Brett. What’s this little guy’s name?”

“Jam-ie.”

“Everything’s fine, miss. Deep breath … There you go. Hi, Jamie. I’m Brett.”

Jamie stuck out his hand. Not his first or even his fortieth interaction with a cop in circumstances like this. “Jamie.”

The cop looked from Jamie to Amanda. “He’s …”

“Yeah.”

Jamie said for himself, “I am.”

Brett bent forward a little to get closer to Jamie. “Are you alright?”

“Twisted my ankle when he dropped me, but it’s gonna be fine.”

The second officer arrived. “Brett, what’s up?”

“Hey, Nancy. Not quite sure yet. Can you get a statement from that couple over there?” Nancy walked over to them.

“Alright, Amanda? Jamie? Can you tell me what’s going on,” the officer asked.

“Brett.” A third officer approached.

“Hey, Lester. Can you find out who called this in and start getting statements from those folks? Him first,” Brett added, nodding to the good samaritan.

“Sure thing.”

“Amanda,” Jamie whispered. “Don’t be scared.” Jamie was though. He knew how this could end: Marsha would be over at their house within a few hours at most, probably with a cop waiting down the block, assuming Amanda was negligent unless they could prove otherwise. He didn’t expect to be separated from her, but standard protocol would be a remedial little parenting class, more random visits, and likely restrictions on Amanda being alone with Jamie outside the home until the remedial class was over and Marsha was content. Gears started turning in Jamie’s head to guarantee a better outcome.

Amanda closed her eyes and put her lips to Jamie’s forehead for seven full seconds, then pulled him closer. Before she could pull away, he whispered into the ear away from Officer Brett, “Take out your phone and hit record.” Amanda looked at him for a split second and surreptitiously did as he told her, furtively pointing the camera up so that it caught at least some angle of the three of them.

Brett gave them a second. “Is Jamie your little, Amanda?”

“My brother.”

“Do you have legal guardianship over Jamie?”

“I have surrogate guardianship.”

“Okay. Can you tell me what happened here?” Amanda opened her mouth, but Jamie jumped in first.

“The two us were on that bench,” he pointed, “And I decided to go play on the swing set. Amanda asked if I wanted her to come, and I said I’d be fine on my own. She watched me the entire time. I kept turning around to wave at her through the crowd, and each time she waved back. Then I sat down in the grass there,” he pointed again, “and waved to Amanda again, and she saw me and waved back. Amanda knew exactly where I was at all times, and I knew where she was at all times. Amanda and I both felt safe as I was near many bigs who were attentive to all of the littles nearby to keep us all safe, and Amanda was close by as well. I laid back, and that boy,” Jamie pointed, “came and stood over me. He asked me what I was doing, and I invited him to sit down. He said he wanted to play with me and grabbed me by the arm and picked me up in a bear hug and started to walk away with me. I saw Amanda was already sprinting over to rescue me, and I shouted for help. At least six bigs heard me and came running toward me. Still fearing for my safety, with the boy inflicting severe pain to my spine, and believing I would be injured before a big could reach me, I struck the boy using as little force as necessary to get away. He dropped me and hurt my ankle. That man,” Jamie pointed again, “picked me up and Amanda got there at the same time and took me from him and made sure I was safe. Then that couple,” he pointed, “arrived, and the husband started screaming. That man,” he pointed once more to the bystander, “put himself between Amanda and the couple, and Amanda turned so that she was between me and the angry man. I felt safe as soon as Amanda picked me up. The woman came over and said her son was fine, and then her husband said in his country I would be fixed so I couldn’t ever hit anybody again, and then the wife said that wasn’t necessary and that they would watch while Amanda punished me and then there’d be no need to call the police. That’s when you arrived on the scene and de-escalated the situation.” Brett was taking down notes as fast as he could. “Excellent work, Officer,” Jamie added.

“Uh, that’s a very through description. Amanda, anything to add to that?”

“No. That’s exactly what happened.” With some truth shading, she thought.

“I’ll be right back. Wait here, please.” Brett walked toward the middle of the square they had formed, with Jamie and Amanda in one corner, the mystery man in another, the crowd in the other, and the couple in the last. Nancy walked toward Brett. They kept their voices down.

“What’s their version,” Brett asked.

“They say the little attacked their son.”

“Just out of the blue?”

“No, they said their son picked up the little and started walking away with him. They saw the little shout something but couldn’t hear what, and then the little socked their son in the face.”

Brett scoffed. “And they’re characterizing that as an attack?”

“Yeah. And saying the boy is hurt.”

“Is he?”

“Shit, no. Eye looks a bit puffy but isn’t even black or anything.”

“Take pictures when you go back over there.”

“Already done,” Nancy said, “And the jackass wants to press charges, if you can fucking believe that.”

“Press charges against who?” Brett shook his head incredulously. “You can’t press charges against a little. There’s no one to press charges against.”

“He wants to charge the little. Says where they’re from, if a little strikes a big, the little’s regressed to the point where they can’t make voluntary movements, like a newborn literally right out of the womb. Says it’s just like if a dog bites a person, the dog is put down.”

Brett’s face grew tight and his features twisted into disgusted rage. “Where are they from?”

“Ros.”

Brett huffed. “They fucking would say that shit. What do they say they’re doing here?”

“On holiday.”

“You believe that?”

“Awfully clumsy way to kidnap a little.”

“For a six-year-old. It would be good cover to have a kid around. Maybe the kid thought he was helping them.”

“If that was the case, why stick around to argue? If it were you, wouldn’t you have apologized and gotten the hell out of here?”

“Fair point. Still, we’ll let the bosses handle it.”

“Should we get someone from the littles unit on scene,” Nancy asked.

Lester joined them. “That woman over there was filming her little on the swing set and got the whole thing in the background.” They watched the video. Two seconds elapsed between the boy approaching Jamie and picking him up. Less than one before Jamie shouted and all the bigs starting running over. Another one before Amanda ran past the woman filming at full speed. Less than one before Jamie punched the boy. Less than one before the man picked up Jamie. A split second before Amanda took him. All told, about 4-and-a-half seconds.

“That’s exactly what the little said happened. What’s the other man say,” Brett nodded over his shoulder to the mystery man.

“Name’s Marcus. He saw the boy pick the little up and ran over to separate them. Little nailed the kid and got dropped just before he could reach them. Then he got in between that father and the little and the girl because the father was acting like he was gonna start some shit.”

“What’s Marcus doing here?”

“Just walking through the park.”

“Anyone else got it on video?”

“Just the one has the whole thing. Eight have the aftermath. I already got all the videos and everyone’s ID.”

“Everyone’s? Even the ones without video?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. Nancy, could you take the Ros family to the station? Call the desk lieutenant and tell him you’ll need a littles detective, a state’s attorney, and immigration to get that process stated.”

“You sure you don’t want a detective here?”

“Nah, we’ll finish taking statements. Detectives can follow up if they need to. Ask them if they want to take the boy to the hospital first. If they say yes, then have a detective meet you there,” Brett told her. “Lester, send me that video and then get all those statements.”

Lester scoffed the way only a fed-up cop can. “Amazing, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Boy touches a little, and every witness stays on the scene and wantsto give a statement.” He sent the video to Brett and went back to the crowd. Brett thanked him and went back to Amanda and Jamie. Amanda had stopped shaking and was now just very tired, all out of adrenaline.

“Someone in the crowd got the whole thing on …”

“Can you send it to us, please? Right now?” Jamie knew video didn’t always make a difference, rarely did in some kinds of cases, but he wanted his own evidence.

“Sure.” He handed Amanda his phone, and she sent it to herself. She was still recording.

“Anyway …”

“Wait,” Jamie interjected again. Brett looked annoyed. “Is the boy alright? I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

The officer gave Jamie a weary smile. “He’s fine.” Amanda weakly smiled. She still looked afraid.

Jamie breathed a purposefully visible but genuine sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“Anyway,” Brett began again, “the video corroborates your version of events. Nancy there is going to take them down to the station house and the state’s attorney will decide what to do with them.”

“Like what,” Amanda asked.

“They’ll probably be charged with endangering a child, endangering a little, disturbing the peace, and menacing a little. Shit, y’all want to make some stuff up, I’ll back it. Throw that dad in jail at least.”

“They’ll go to jail,” Jamie asked.

“No, unlikely. The charges will stay on file, and they’ll be deported within two days. They’ll go on the Alliance watchlist and won’t be able to travel to any member countries. If they do and get caught, they’ll be extradited back here, and the charges will move forward.”

“What happens to us,” Amanda asked.

Brett sighed and looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. I gotta call DLS.” Amanda looked terrified again and started to hyperventilate. “BUT!” Brett added as quickly as he could, “I’m gonna take you home and stay with you until they’re done. Everything’s gonna be fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, either of you. I’m not gonna let anyone get carried away. I’m the responding officer on the scene; my version goes in the official report. Time I’m done explaining this to the social worker, you’re gonna get a medal for being a good big sister. Promise. Do you believe me?”

Amanda nodded a tearful, “Yes.”

Jamie nodded a professional, “Thank you,” and held out his hand again. Brett shook it.

“Do you guys have a car here?”

“We walked.”

“Even easier. I’m parked over there.” They started walking back toward the playground.

“Could you make sure that man hears how grateful we are,” Amanda said.

“Of course. Lester! I’m gonna take them home. Hit me up on the radio when you’re done here.”

As they walked across the playground, first one and then ten bigs started to applaud. It surprised Jamie. He wondered if they’d still be doing that if the boy and his family were from Itali. He didn’t like the applause.

“I can walk, Amanda.”

“No.” She squeezed him closer. She wasn’t concerned about his ankle, or at least that’s not why she wouldn’t let him go.

When they got home, Amanda offered Brett a glass of water. He declined. “I gotta make this call if you guys want to go freshen up and call your mom.”

Amanda took Jamie to his room. “I gotta … if you want to go wash your face first,” he told her.

“Yeah.” She put Jamie gently on his feet, making sure he could stand without her help. His ankle wasn’t even swollen.

“Manda,” Jamie said, grabbing her shirt as she turned away, “It’s really gonna be fine. You’re my hero.” She smiled at him with watery eyes and went to the bathroom. Jamie wasn’t prone to using dramatic words like that, but he thought it would help her feel better, and anyway, that’s how he was going to play it with Marsha. He hated the term being applied to himself, but Amanda actually had kept him safe, so maybe it would feel different to her, and maybe different coming from him and not a stranger. He did what he needed to do and waited for Amanda to get back.

When she did, she put him on the table and silently got to work cleaning him up.

“Manda, you remember what I told Brett about how it happened?”

“I think so.”

“You remember I waved at you multiple times, and you waved back?”

“You waved the once, and I waved back.”

“Hey, stop for a second.” She looked at him.

“I waved at you multiple times, and you waved back. Remember now.” She nodded her head quickly.

“Can you say it, please?”

“You waved at me multiple times, and I waved back.”

“You never lost sight of me.”

“I never lost sight of you.”

“You were never more than 30 feet from me.”

“I was never more than thirty feet from you.”

“You were sprinting to me before any of the other bigs even noticed.”

“The video doesn’t show that.”

“The video doesn’t not show it either. You were sprinting to me as soon as the kid walked up to me.”

“I was sprinting to you as soon as the kid walked up to you.”

“You reached me right after that man did.”

“I know.”

“You put yourself between me and that lunatic.”

“I know.”

“You defended me.”

“I know.”

“So stop crying. You didn’t do anything wrong. I mean it. Absolutely nothing wrong.”

Amanda closed her eyes and let out a sob, sucking air back in bursts. “I was so scared.”

“I wasn’t, because you were there.” Amanda choked on another sob before she could take a full breath. She opened her eyes, glancing up at the ceiling trying to clear her head. She turned her attention back to Jamie, finished her task, and dabbed at her eyes with the back of her hands. Jamie sat up.

“C’mere.” If Jamie could have picked her up, he would have. Instead she picked him up, and they clutched each other. Jamie pushed back. He still had a situation to manage.

“Call Mom and give me your phone, then go ask Brett to move his cruiser around the corner.” She dialed and handed him the phone, then went to the kitchen to ask Brett to move the car.

“Mom? Hi! Yeah, Manda and me had a great time today. You know she’s my hero, right? I love her very, very much … Ha, you too! How far from home are you? … O, good. That’ll be good.

“Uh, so listen, I’m fine and so is Manda. Understand? No … Mom? … Mom? … Mom! Deep breath with me. Heeeeehoooooo. Heeeeehoooooo. Good. Good.

“We had a little incident at the park today. Nothing major … I promise. I promise. … Well, a kid grabbed me. … Mom? … Mom? … MOM!

“I’m fine! I promise. I wasn’t in any danger … No … No … No, Amanda was right there. The whole thing was over in a few seconds … Really ... No, really … MOM! When you get here, there’s going to be a policeman in the kitchen.”

Jamie held the phone away from his ear.

“MOM! … MOM! … MOM! Everyone is fine. He’s a wonderful guy. Marriage material, really … No, not a good time to be making a joke … Yes, it’s a bad time to be making jokes … A very bad time … No, you’re right … Mom … Mom …

“MOM! Someone at the park called them, and he drove us home. He called DLS. Marsha’s probably going to be over here soon probably. It’s standard procedure … No, really, nothing bad is going to happen. Mom … MOM!”

He lowered his voice.

“I’ve done this a couple dozen times. Nobody did anything wrong. It’s no one’s fault. Amanda did everything right. The cop is on our side. Marsha will be in and out of here in an hour. Promise. Drive safe … Love you too.”

He hung up and rubbed his eyes. “Fucking hell, I need a cookie. A triple,” he said to no one.

Amanda came back. “She’ll be home in a few minutes,” he told her. “What’s the cutest, most ridiculous thing you have for me to wear?”

Jamie ended up in baby blue footies with a hood and bunny ears. Jamie splashed a little baby powder under his arms and across his chest and butt to make the smell match the attire and clipped his pacifier to his outfit. They went to the bathroom where Amanda scrubbed his face and combed his hair. He brushed his teeth. They went out to the living room just as Brett was coming back inside.

He saw Jamie and chuckled.

“Good thing Amanda was never more than thirty feet from me, right, Brett?”

“Definitely. She saved the day. You look … cozy.”

“Manda, could you please make me a bottle?”

“Sure.”

When they were alone, Brett leaned close to Jamie and said, “You done this before?”

“I used to be a social worker. So yeah, done this. We should wait in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“Just talked to my mom. She might drive through the living room.”

She didn’t, but she nearly took the door from the garage into the kitchen off its hinges. She had Jamie in her arms before he could even think ‘hello.’ She held one arm out for Amanda to join them.

“Smile,” Jamie said.

“What,” Amanda asked.

“Smile. You saved the day, and you’re happy. And Mom, your daughter who you trust with my life saved the day, and you’re the proudest mom ever. And make an ice pack.”

Brett shook his head. Jamie was leaving nothing to chance.

Marsha arrived shortly after. Her greeting was all business. Jamie understood that. He didn’t begrudge it. He’d done the same thing, and he’d been trained, like she had, to be skeptical.

“Marsha, been a while,” Brett greeted her.

“Yeah, it has.” It didn’t surprise Jamie that they knew each other. As a social worker, he’d gotten to know a dozen cops whose paths crossed with his.

“Let me give you the run down.”

Becky, Jamie, and Amanda waited in the living room while Brett told her happened. “Amanda, lay on the couch with me on top of you, and feed me that bottle. Mom, put that ice on my ankle … The other one.”

They heard the video playing and caught snippets of Brett’s commentary. “Whole thing took less than five seconds … Witnesses say she was never more than thirty feet from him … never lost sight of each other … didn’t hesitate to put herself between Jamie and that man; he was acting like he was going to get violent … She walked away from him and got Jamie somewhere safe … bystander put himself between Amanda and that guy … That’s when I got there … Have you ever known me to do anything to put a little or a child in danger? … Right … If I were you, I’d give her a medal … Wish I had a sister like that.”

Brett thought he was laying it on even thicker than Jamie, until they went into the living room and found him ‘sleeping’ on Amanda’s chest with a bottle between his lips. “See,” he whispered, “She’s his hero.”

Marsha knelt down in front of the sofa and whispered, “How’s his ankle?” Becky moved the icepack and managed to smile at her.

“It’s fine. Just a precaution.”

“Brett showed me the video. I want you to know, Rebecca, your daughter was a hero today. I wish every one of my littles had a sister like her.” She turned to Amanda. “You’re awesome, sweetie. I’m so glad he has you.”

“He’s my guy,” Amanda smiled, running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m gonna get out of your way. I’ll make sure those other people are dealt with,” Marsha promised.

“You’re a blessing, Marsha.”

“Just my job.”

She left, and Brett followed her out the door, turning in time to see Jamie open one eye and search the room with it. He made sure Marsha was out of hearing distance. “Y’all make a good team,” he said.

“We are a good team,” Jamie said. “Thanks for everything. Really.”

“My pleasure.” He came back in. “I’ll leave you my card, in case you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, her voice weak.

“Thank you so much,” Amanda said, not smiling when she said it.

“Hey,” Brett said, “You did everything right, understand? I’d be doing this a whole other way if I thought you didn’t. You trust that?”

Amanda nodded from her head to her shoulders. “I do.”

“Good. Try have a good evening.” Brett left. Jamie sat up.

“Told you he was marriage material. If you ignore the wedding ring.”

Becky sighed and said, “I want to see the video. Do you have it?” Amanda showed it to her, and they both got weepy again. They ran through the whole story, honestly this time.

After dinner, Becky gave Jamie a very slow bath, gently washing his hand like he’d gone ten rounds with a pro. She was slow in everything she did with him that night, her hands lingering on him when she combed his hair, got him dressed in his normal PJs, and carried him to his chair. He’d never felt so delicate. He was reading one of his new books when he heard a moan from somewhere between heartache and grief. He shook his head, and a tear came to his eye too. He couldn’t stand this. Hearing Amanda hurting made him hurt.

He’d improved the story and added some props to make sure everything went their way. He’d done it enough to know that facts aren’t always enough. Good social workers are risk averse by nature, and if they erred on the side of caution, they were doing their jobs right. This time, though, Jamie knew exactly what the truth was and he found no blame at all in anything Amanda had or hadn’t done. It was a fluke, and he was fine. There was nothing he wouldn’t do or say to make sure Marsha saw it that way, and just as importantly, he wanted Rebecca to know Amanda was blameless too, that she had, actually saved him.

Jamie climbed the steps and paused outside his mom’s door. He could make out through her thick tears, “I was so scared.” The guaranteed way to set off Jamie’s tears was for someone he cared about to cry. He choked it back, leaving a stone stuck in is his throat, and went into the room.

Rebecca was spooning Amanda and running her fingers through her hair. She saw Jamie come in, but Amanda’s eyes were squeezed shut. Tears flowed, but her sobs had turned to sniffling whimpers. Jamie pulled himself on to the bed and made himself the third spoon. Amanda felt him and instinctively put her arm around him without opening her eyes, pulling him close and resting her chin just above his head.

He’d already said it, and he’d say it again as many time as it took. “I wasn’t scared, Manda, because you were there.”

Rebecca put her over both of them. She kissed the back of Amanda’s head, saying only, “My babies.”

They shared the bed for the rest of the night. First Amanda and then Jamie fell asleep like that as Rebecca quietly sang them her lullaby.