Riding Tall (15 page)

He woke from a light doze when he heard feet on the stairs. He recognized the tread and sat up to see Austin poking his blond head cautiously around the corner.

“Red?” the boy whispered. Joe hadn’t realized the dog was sleeping just inside the living-room door, but he heard the heavy thud of his tail hitting the floor.

“Hey, Austin,” Joe said quietly, and Austin’s head swiveled in his direction.

“Joe?” he said, obviously as confused by his uncle’s location as he’d been by the dog’s.

“Hey, buddy.”

Austin padded over cautiously, peered at Joe’s face as if to confirm his identity, then climbed laboriously onto the couch. Joe rolled onto his side, leaving room for Austin to snuggle in next to him. “Blanket,” Austin said. It wasn’t an order or even a request. More like the verbalization of a wish. Austin wanted to be under the blanket, and if he said this out loud, someone might help him out.

It was so simple, Joe thought, and he squirmed around until there was extra afghan for him to share. Austin snuggled in and pillowed his head on his soft little arm, and Joe felt a wave of love so strong it was almost a physical reaction. This little person trusted Joe and wanted to cuddle with him as they woke up. In a little while he’d realize he was hungry, and it would be up to Joe to take care of that. He’d need help with countless other things through the day, and Joe would be there for him. Joe would
always
be there for him, and it wasn’t a burden, it was a gift.

Austin squirmed, and Joe tucked his arm around him to make sure he didn’t fall off the couch. A gift, but a heavy one. Maybe that was the way to look at it. Joe had too many gifts, and he had to carry them all. He didn’t have Santa’s magic sack, so he felt all the weight. And if he was carrying too much, maybe something would get dropped.

That couldn’t be Austin. It was impossible to figure out all the different rankings and valuations, but according to any formula Joe could think of, Austin had to be his number-one priority. The rest of it? A blurring combination of needs and wants and wishes. Joe couldn’t think about all that and lie still enough to keep Austin happy, so he tried to clear his mind. He breathed in the faint scent of Austin’s hair and let himself enjoy the way his warm little body snuggled into Joe’s.

“What’re we doing today, Joe?” Austin asked. He still sounded a little sleepy, but that was normal. Austin generally took a while to wake up. It didn’t mean he was interested in going back to sleep, though.

“I don’t know. I need to look after the animals. You going to help with that?”

“Is it cold?”

“It’s winter. It’s always going to be cold, so we have to wear our warm clothes.”

“Are the animals cold?”

“They have warm clothes of their own—their fur and feathers. And they’re mostly in the barn, so there’s no wind.” Usually Joe would prompt Austin to answer these questions himself, but not when Austin was still sleepy. At this time of day Austin didn’t need his brain stimulated, he just needed the comfort of familiar things.

“What else are we doing today?”

Returning an innocent girl to an institution she hates? Taking on a new, crushingly heavy responsibility that would inevitably cut away from the attention Austin got from his uncle? “I don’t know, buddy. What do you want to do?”

Austin didn’t answer. He lay quietly for another few minutes and then squirmed out of Joe’s embrace. He padded across the floor to the Christmas tree and squatted to inspect the remaining presents. “For me?”

“Mostly. You can read the tags, okay? Look for your name. Don’t open the ones for Will or Lindsey or Sarah or Dave or Nick. Just the ones for Austin.”

Austin spent some more time looking at the boxes, then selected a small silver one and carried it over to Joe. “Austin?” he said, pointing at the card.

Joe propped himself up on his elbow, ignoring the protests of a body made creaky by a night on a too-small sofa. “Is there an
A
?”

Austin inspected the card again, then nodded.

“What’s the next letter?”

“You!” Austin said with a jaunty finger-point in Joe’s direction. The little man was waking up.

“And what’s next?”

“Sssssssssss,” Austin hissed.

“After that?”

Austin stood straight and put his hands out to his sides to be a T.

“And then?”

Austin stayed straight, brought his hands over his head in a little circle, and waited for approval.

“If the next letter is what I think it is, you’re in luck. What’s the next letter?”

“N-ytime, N-ywhere!” Austin said happily. Joe wasn’t really sure he liked that little memory trick, but Ally had come up with it, and it certainly seemed to work.

“A-U-S-T-I-N spells Austin, all right,” Joe said. Then he squinted at the package. “Let me see for a second?” Austin reluctantly handed the box to his uncle. “Uh, buddy?” Joe said after a quick look. “What’s this letter here? The very first letter?”

Austin refused to look at the card. “A?” he said hopefully.

“It doesn’t look like an A, buddy. Look at it, all sssnakey and ssslippery. What’s that letter?”

“A. For Austin.”

“You like this one because it’s shiny, right? But you probably won’t like what’s inside. And it might make someone else sad if you opened their present. Who would be sad if this present was opened before she got it? Whose name starts with S?”

Austin pouted, but finally, reluctantly admitted, “Sarah.”

“Yeah. I think you’re right; I think this present is for Sarah. I don’t think you want to make Sarah sad, right? How ’bout you find one that’s for you, okay?”

Austin’s longing look suggested that he might not be all that worried about making Sarah sad, but he seemed to realize the present was out of reach and wandered back over to the tree for another selection. Joe pushed himself the rest of the way up on the couch, ready to intercept if Austin tried any more gift theft, and that was when he saw Mackenzie watching him from just around the corner.

Mackenzie’s smile wasn’t bright, but he came into the room and sat down on the couch next to Joe. “You’re thinking you should have bought him a present with shiny wrapping paper, right? You’re blaming yourself for ruining his Christmas or something equally insane, just because his gifts were wrapped in paper with puppies and bears and toys instead of shiny silver. Right?”

“I didn’t ruin his Christmas,” Joe said. “But, seriously, I
know
he likes shiny stuff. Would it have killed me to have put a bit more thought into the wrapping?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Mackenzie said. It wasn’t entirely clear how he felt about his observation. “
Everybody
likes shiny stuff. But we like puppies and bears and toys too. Also, we know we can’t always have every single thing our own way all the time.” He pointed his chin toward Austin, who was trying to drag a particularly large box out from behind the tree. “He doesn’t seem too upset about it. Which is good. Not because him being upset would mean you’d made the wrong wrapping choice, but because it would mean he was a spoiled brat. As someone who’s met Peyton, I think you can appreciate how unpleasant it would be if Austin was spoiled that way. But he’s not. You’ve done a good job, despite your instincts.”

It was hard to decide whether that little speech was mostly complimentary or mostly insulting, so Joe decided not to try to make the judgment. Better to focus on the practical. “You want breakfast?”

“You have to go to the barn soon, right? I can make breakfast for Austin, if you want.”

But Mackenzie was already mad that Joe was thinking about taking on more responsibility. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to assume Joe’s existing jobs. “I can do it,” he said quickly. “Little man, do you want pancakes or waffles?”

Austin looked up from the half-opened gift. “What
is
this?” he asked with dawning excitement. “I think there’s animals!”

“That one’s from me,” Mackenzie said. He scooted off of the couch onto the floor and reached for the box. “See? It’s a farm. Do you want to take the rest of the wrapping off to see the picture, or should we try to open the box right now?”

A choice like that required Austin’s full attention, so Joe stood up and headed for the kitchen. Pancakes were marginally easier, so that was what he’d make.

He had the batter mixed and had given Austin his five-minute warning when he heard voices on the staircase. “It’s okay, Kami,” Ally was saying. “You can hold on to the railing if you want to, but I’m right here. You won’t fall.”

Joe felt an inexplicable urge to press his palm against the hot skillet. Maybe some part of his brain wanted him to be distracted from what was coming next, but the larger part of his conscience refused to allow him that escape. He’d messed up. He’d been slow, and now Kami was… well, he wasn’t quite sure
what
she was. He’d done his best to avoid finding out too many details. But apparently she was afraid to go down stairs. The laughing little girl who’d climbed to the top of the hayloft without a moment’s hesitation couldn’t handle a set of stairs without help. All because Joe hadn’t gotten to her in time.

“
NO
,” he heard, and the voice was a strange mix of familiar and new. “No. No stairs. No.”

“You came
up
the stairs,” Ally said. “Yesterday, remember? You came up to go to bed. Now it’s time to go down and get some breakfast.”

“No.” Kami’s voice was getting louder, with a mix of fear and aggression. “No! No! No!”

Joe turned the heat under the griddle off, then stepped to the bottom of the stairs and looked into the living room. Austin’s head was up, and he was listening in confusion and maybe a little bit of alarm. Goddammit. Joe needed to do something before this got more out of control. Of course, he didn’t really know what
to
do.

He walked up a few steps until Kami could see him. Which, of course, meant he could see her. If he hadn’t known her before, he might not have noticed how thin she seemed, her formerly strong body now frail. She was braced at the top of the stairs, gripping the wall, ready to fight to stay away from what she obviously thought was danger.

“Hey, Kami,” Joe made himself say. He wouldn’t insult her by talking about the past and trying to apologize for the unforgivable, so he might as well focus on the current issue. “You don’t want to take the stairs today, huh? Would it be okay if I carried you down?”

“That’s Joe,” Ally said quietly. “Do you remember Joe? He’s my brother. He’s safe. Can he carry you down the stairs?”

Kami looked doubtful, but she didn’t try to run away.

“I can carry you,” Joe said again. He wasn’t really sure she understood his words. Griffin was there at the top of the stairs, watching the whole scene with canine concern, and Joe climbed the stairs to stand next to them all. “Like this,” he said, and he gently lifted Griffin up. The dog put his head on Joe’s shoulder as if he’d been
waiting
for someone to realize he deserved to be carried everywhere, and he snuggled in as Joe made his way down the staircase. “See?” Joe asked. “I can carry you.” He set the dog down gently, and Griffin immediately raced to the top of the stairs. It wasn’t clear whether he was hoping for another ride or just wanted to get back to the place he’d been before the random trip downstairs, but he certainly didn’t seem upset about anything.

Kami was clearly fascinated by the whole process, staring at Joe, then the dog, then back at Joe. “Again?” she said. Her voice was a little slurred, but still clear.

This wasn’t exactly how Joe had planned to spend his morning, but he obligingly climbed back up the stairs and scooped Griffin into his arms. “Picking up,” Joe said. He turned and started down the stairs. “Carrying.” When he got to the bottom he set the dog down and said, “Griffin, stay.” Then he looked up the stairs and held his arms out. “See? Safe. Do you want a ride? Do you want to come down and see Griffin?”

Kami was watching him closely, but again he wasn’t sure she really understood what he’d said. “Carry?” he asked, and he held his arms out to show what he meant.

She stared at him as he cautiously approached. When he was close enough to touch, she raised her arms a little. Not a lot, but enough that he was pretty sure she was consenting. He still moved slowly, though, eased toward her and lifted her gently, letting her find her balance as they moved.

When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, Griffin greeted them with as much celebration as if they’d been separated for years. Joe set Kami down with the same care he’d used to pick her up, but she squirmed at the last minute, clearly eager to get her feet back on the ground, and he had to catch her before she fell. “Steady, there,” he said, but she didn’t even look at him, just crouched to wrap her arms around Griffin’s fuzzy neck.

“She went
up
the stairs okay,” Ally said, her voice a mix of apology and defensiveness.

“Down is scarier,” Joe said. “You have to kind of hang there for a bit when you’re putting your foot down a level.” It was probably an opportunity to point out that this was just one of the many challenges of bringing someone with special needs into the household, but he was too tired to lecture. “One of us needs to go to the barn, so the other should make breakfast. Which do you want?”

“Whichever you don’t,” Ally said. “Either’s fine.”

“You’re on breakfast, then. Batter’s mixed, griddle was hot a minute ago. There’s fruit in the fridge.”

Ally nodded, half of her attention still on Kami. Joe grabbed an apple on the way to the mudroom. Not a real breakfast for him, but the animals had waited long enough. He bundled up and headed for the barn, Red at his heels. It was comforting to be around the animals and to follow the familiar routines: feed them all, turn out those who could handle the cold, collect the eggs, milk the cow. Flower still had a calf taking a bit of her milk, so it wasn’t too unpleasant for her to have a slightly irregular milking schedule, but Joe still cringed as he felt her udder. It wasn’t full enough to be sore, but it was close. The animals were yet another responsibility he wasn’t meeting properly.