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Jake took another step forward, unsure if he was supposed to reach out or hold back. "Not even half an hour ago." He looked back at Tor, hoping to hell for a little bit of guidance.

Tor closed his eyes and draped an arm over them. "Jacob, you send him back in ten minutes, yeah?

He needs his beauty rest."

"Okay," Jacob said, sounding as relieved as Jake felt. "Sure. You bet."

They went into Jacob's room, leaving the door open. "How's your arm?" Jake asked, looking

around the room. He was still twitchy, his hands acting on their own and taking his arms with them

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in frequent, abortive movements.

"Hurts. And my head aches." Jacob looked around too and sighed, then sat on the edge of his bed.

"How're you?" he asked tentatively.

"Been better," Jake admitted, still looking around. It was a kid's room, but at the same time, not.

There were posters on the wall of guys skateboarding, and a couple of awards from school. A tro-

phy for soccer on the desk. Clothes all over. But there were CDs too, and the clothes weren't the

little boy jeans and shirts that Jake had seen months ago. The stuffed animal that Jacob had seemed

both embarrassed by and reluctant to give up was now high on a shelf and Jake could see the dust

on it.

Finally, Jake sat next to his nephew on the edge of the bed. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nope. And I don't want to cry."

Jake looked at him, startled. "Pardon?"

Jacob's cheeks colored. "I heard one of the nurses, when she thought I was sleeping. She said that I hadn't cried yet and that it wasn't natural."

"She was full of shit," Jake said immediately, offended that anyone would judge any of a boy's reactions to his mother's death as unnatural. "Crying… crying is good, don't get me wrong, and you'll do it at some point. But don't you let anyone tell you that you have to do it--that's as much crap as

the entire 'boys don't cry' bullshit."

"Yeah?" Jacob looked relieved but after a short moment his eyes clouded again. "It's okay to cry and it's okay not to cry?"

Jake nodded and felt impossibly old. "Yeah. It's all good, kid. It's… it's the way you feel things.

Nothing wrong with feelings."

Jacob nodded slowly and seemed to think about that. Jake had no idea if he'd made any sense at all

and he wasn't really sure if it mattered. Clarity of thought had long since abandoned him, and he

was just trying not to fuck things up beyond what they were. He glanced up at the posters and then

at the CDs on the floor, wondering with a small part of his brain why there weren't any posters of

girls up. Shouldn't a kid Jacob's age have pinups from magazines on the walls? That Spears chick,

or that scary girl Tommy liked--Pink? Stupid name for a girl. He tried to remember what was on

his walls when he was Jacob's age and drew a blank. Still though, should be something up, maybe

actresses, unless Jacob wasn't into--

Jake's brain froze and he blinked. "Don't borrow trouble," he whispered to himself.

"What?"

Jake shook his head. "Nothing, just thinking. Sorry."

"Oh."

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They sat in silence for a few moments longer and Jake was just about to get up and tell Jacob he

needed sleep when Jacob said, "I'm worried about Aunt Cath."

"How come?"

Jacob shrugged. "She's got too much to do. I mean, you're here now and that'll help, but there's just so much. She's been callin' and callin' and dealing with people and making arrangements and I can't

help. And after… I just think it'll be too hard."

Jake took a deep breath. "Well, now. You don't have to worry about any of that, Jacob. I'll help

with everything, so will Tor. That's what we're here for--we're older, for one thing, which means

that we can legally do what you can't. It's nothing you have to worry about, I promise."

Jacob looked at him, his face impassive. "Then what
am
I supposed to do?"

Jake had no idea what to say. "Try to get through it as best you can. We're here for you, we'll do everything in our power to make this--" not easy "--less horrible for you."

Jacob shook his head, but didn't seem to be really disagreeing. "What's going to happen to me?" he whispered, staring at the floor.

Jake sighed. "You don't have to worry about this right now."

Jacob stood up. "I do have to. No one will tell me anything, and I don't even know who's going to

take care of me!"

The utter agony in Jacob's voice cut through Jake like an ax through pine. He stood up and eased

Jacob back onto the bed, then knelt down in front of him, holding his gaze steadily. "You're right.

That was damn stupid of me, and I apologize. I guess we're just trying to keep you from worry, and

instead we're causing more."

Jacob just looked at him, blinking rapidly.

"You know what a will is, right?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, your momma has one. And in there, she's got a plan laid out about what we're supposed to

do--about the money, what to give to people, what to sell, and what to do with her savings and

such. It's yours, of course, but it'll most likely go into an account until you're a certain age, or for your schooling or something. I haven't seen it yet, so I can't say for sure."

"Okay. But what about--"

Jake held up his hand. "She also made a plan for what to do if she… if something happened to her

before you were old enough to live on your own." Jake swallowed hard, willing himself to get all

this out before he finally had to give in to his own need for catharsis. "Which means that she named 22

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a guardian for you. And that's me."

Jacob stared at him, his eyes wide with disbelief. "You?"

He nodded, unable to speak.

"I'm supposed to go live with you and Uncle Tor?" He looked horrified now, his eyes narrowing.

"Your mom thought that it would be best--that we could give you a good home and watch out for

you." He paused for a moment and then plunged on. "If you're upset 'cause me and Tor are to
-

gether, then we'll have to talk some more."

Jacob literally waved that away. "Nah, whatever. I don't care about that. It's just… it's…" He was looking more and more upset by the moment, his hand shaking a little as he reached up to rub his

other arm above the cast.

"What?"

"It's Arkansas. My friends are here, my school, my team… everything!" He stood up again, sud
-

denly, and strode to the door. "You can't take everything from me. I won't go."

Jake could barely breathe, his throat was so tight. He banged his head against the mattress and went

after Jacob, only to meet Cath in the hall. "I gotta talk to him," he said tightly, trying to pass.

"No you don't, big brother." Cath suddenly sounded a lot like 'Lissa. "You need to sleep. He needs to think. It'll work out, I promise. We'll all talk later but right now, hon, you need to crash." And with that she pushed him hard into the guest room and closed the door on him.

Jake stood for a brief moment, trying to decide if he should go out to Jacob anyway. He had his

hand on the doorknob when Tor rolled over on the bed and said his name.

"Taggart? You talk to Jacob?"

Jake could only nod, so he sat on the bed and pulled his boots off. He was shaking, the day crash
-

ing over him like a spring storm, violent and fast.

Tor pulled him back, tugging at his shirt sleeves until they were lying on the bed facing each other.

He didn't say anything, just looked at him, and Jake closed his eyes, burrowing his head into Tor's

neck.

"He doesn't want to come with us," he whispered, and then he let it all fall apart, let the storm start to break over him as he lay in Tor's arms.

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When Jake woke up, his eyes were gritty and a headache loomed just behind his forehead. He was

too warm, too restricted, and it took him a moment to realize he was tangled in a blanket, fully

clothed. He wrestled the blanket off and lay still for a long moment, letting the cooler temperature

soothe him a little.

Tor wasn't there on the bed next to him, and Jake had a vague memory of a soft voice saying some-

thing about coffee. He definitely remembered an embarrassing moment of clinging before Tor

broke away.

Jake rubbed at his face and sighed, unable to convince himself that staying in bed for the next few

days was a real option. He had strong doubts that everything would just work out on its own, or

that this nightmare was going to fade in the warm light of day no matter how long he put off getting

up.

By the time he'd taken a shower the headache had retreated enough for him to think with reason-

able clarity, and his watch was telling him that the warm light of morning was actually showing up

in mid-afternoon. He followed the sound of voices into the kitchen, mildly surprised to find people

there. It wasn't a crowd, but there were two women at the table with Cath, and Tor was leaning on

the counter, reaching for a mug and the coffee pot as Jake appeared. The sound of a video game

drew Jake's attention as he passed the living room, and he glanced in to see Jacob staring intently at

the TV screen, the control braced on his cast and the fingers of his good hand flying as he tried to

play despite his injury.

"Jake, this is Tracy and Laura, friends of 'Lissa's," Cath said softly.

Jake nodded, accepting their murmured words of sympathy and the mug from Tor. He was about to

ask Cath what he could do to help when the house phone rang, Cath wincing as she reached to an-

swer it.

"Hungry?" Tor asked beside him, and Jake shook his head. He wasn't, or at least he didn't feel like it, but common sense told him that he really should eat something. Tor seemed to be in his head,

smiling slightly as he pulled the fridge open.

"Maybe a sandwich," Jake said, sipping his coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in nice and fast.

The two strangers at the table talked quietly to each other, apparently making a list of names be-

tween them. Or maybe it was a shopping list; one of the neatly written names looked like 'Rice

Crackers'.

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"Gonna have to be something simple," Tor said, pulling out a small brick of cheese. "There's not much here. I'll go shopping in a minute."

"Oh, we can do that," Tracy or Laura said. "We have a list of things. For… for after."

Jake swallowed thickly, Tor's hand suddenly on his shoulder.

"It's okay," Tor assured them. "I can get it all. Maybe you can stay here for a bit, though? Make some calls for Cath? I'm sure there are people who'll need to know, and Jake doesn't know any of

'Lissa's friends. Or the parents of Jacob's friends."

Jake was almost obscenely grateful for Tor at that moment. He still felt useless, but where he

would have expected to rail against Tor taking over, he found only comfort. He listened with half

an ear to Cath tell someone when the funeral was, happy enough to melt into the background as Tor

finished making the sandwich, and then went over the list with 'Lissa's friends.

"Jake."

He blinked, not really aware how long Tor had been trying to get his attention. "Sorry," he said, feeling his cheeks heat. "Not real awake yet."

Tor just smiled at him, gently coaxing him into the conversation. "Do you remember which dip got

eaten first after my mom's funeral?"

"Yeah, that shrimp and onion thing, with the cream cheese," Jake answered immediately. He'd been pretty much in charge of the food distribution after Maureen's services, and Tor had been out of it;

he wasn't sure how Tor knew what Jake had been doing, but apparently he'd taken the time to find

out. Or, more likely, Becky had made a point of telling Tor that Jake had been helpful. In any

event, Jake was just happy to have an answer to something, anything. It made him feel a tiny bit

less shell-shocked.

Cath hung up the phone and sighed, picking up her own cell phone. "Two lines going is a bit

much," she commented, pushing the power button. "What's the plan?"

Tor picked the rental's keys up off the counter and waved the list at her. "I'm off for food."

"And we're going to make some calls for you, honey," the Tracy/Laura creature said. "Why don't you go lie down?"

Cath looked at Jake.

"Go," he said, pointing down the hall. "Even until supper. I'll make some calls, if I can use your phone?"

"Okay," Cath said, sounding surprised. "If you're sure."

Jake shrugged. "You got an address book or something?"

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Natural Disaster

Cath stood up and handed him the cell phone. "I called all the family; mostly people are just calling me back at this point. Might be a stray cousin or something, but I wouldn't worry."

Jake looked at the door to the living room. "How about things for Jacob? The school and stuff?"

Cath looked stricken, her eyes shutting. "Damn it--"

"Go rest," Jake ordered, aware of the two women watching calmly, ready to offer a shoulder if needed. "I can handle it. Gonna need the practice, yeah?" He offered her a weak smile.

She gave him a ghost of a smile back, then said a few words to Tracy and Laura. Jake was already

looking through the phone book and dialing from the list of numbers in 'Lissa's handwriting at the

front.

When a pleasant voice answered the phone at the school, Jake had to take a deep breath. "Hello.

My name is Jake Taggart; I'm Jacob Taggart's uncle."

There was a very brief pause before the female voice said, "Of course. I'm deeply sorry for your

loss, Mr. Taggart. We were all so… sorry to hear about the accident."