Chapter 9 - THE ONE PERSON OLIVER STILL FEAREDRecovery did not move in a straight line.
A year after the bad room was discovered, Oliver could sleep upstairs.
He could tolerate medical appointments.
He attended preschool three mornings a week.
He stopped throwing objects.
Mostly.
He still hated broccoli passionately enough that Hannah considered his objections constitutionally protected.
But one fear remained.
Eleanor.
Oliver had seen his grandmother only through photographs since the investigation.
Eleanor never pushed.
Every month, she mailed him a postcard.
No requests.
No guilt.
Just simple messages.
I saw a red train today and thought you would like it.
The tulips are blooming.
I hope school is fun.
Oliver kept every card in a shoebox.
But whenever Dominic asked whether he wanted to see her, he said no.
So no became the answer.
Until one Saturday in October.
Oliver was five now.
He sat at the breakfast table reading one of Eleanor’s cards.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Is Grandma bad?”
Dominic put down his coffee.
There were questions no business negotiation prepared a person to answer.
“What do you think?”
Oliver shrugged.
“She let Keller.”
“Yes.”
“She knew bad room.”
“She knew about the room. I don’t think she understood everything Keller was doing.”
“But I cried.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t she stop?”
Dominic’s chest tightened.
“Because adults can make terrible mistakes.”
Oliver considered.
“Like children?”
“Yes.”
“Bigger?”
“Sometimes much bigger.”
“Does sorry fix it?”
“No.”
Oliver frowned.
“Then why say sorry?”
Dominic looked toward Hannah.
She remained silent.
This was his answer to give.
“Because sorry is where fixing can start.”
Oliver stared at the postcard.
“Can Grandma start?”
Dominic didn’t trust his voice.
“If you want her to.”
Three days later Eleanor came.
She arrived alone.
No driver.
No assistant.
No expensive gifts.
She stood at the front door carrying one small paper bag.
Oliver watched from behind Hannah.
Eleanor’s eyes found him.
She didn’t approach.
“Hello, Oliver.”
He said nothing.
Dominic remained nearby.
Nobody instructed him to hug her.
Nobody told him to be polite.
Nobody said she was family and therefore entitled to affection.
Oliver eventually asked, “What’s bag?”
Eleanor opened it.
“Birdseed.”
He looked confused.
“For the ducks.”
“We don’t have ducks.”
“I know.”
She gave a nervous smile.
“I thought perhaps we could find some.”
Oliver looked at Hannah.
She shrugged.
“You decide.”
He thought.
“Okay.”
They walked to a pond near the property.
Eleanor remained three feet away.
Then two.
Then Oliver handed her some seed.
They fed ducks for almost an hour.
On the walk home, Oliver asked, “Why you let Keller lock me?”
Eleanor stopped.
Dominic watched from behind.
Hannah held her breath.
Eleanor lowered herself carefully onto a bench so she would be closer to Oliver’s height.
“Because I made a terrible mistake.”
“You thought I bad?”
Her face broke.
“Yes.”
Oliver looked down.
“I wasn’t.”
“No.”
“I scared.”
“I know that now.”
“You didn’t listen.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because I thought being older meant I knew more than you.”
Oliver considered this.
“That silly.”
A small laugh escaped Hannah.
Eleanor almost smiled through tears.
“Yes. It was very silly.”
Oliver tossed birdseed.
“I still mad.”
“You’re allowed.”
“I don’t want hug.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I maybe hug another day.”
Eleanor nodded.
“That would be more than I deserve.”
Oliver frowned.
“Hannah says people not things.”
Eleanor looked toward Hannah.
“What does that mean?”
“Things break, get new one. People break, take care.”
Nobody spoke for a moment.
Then Eleanor whispered, “Hannah is right.”
That meeting became the beginning.
Not forgiveness.
Not instantly.
Trust rebuilt in inches.
Meanwhile, Dominic confronted another fear.
His feelings for Hannah.
He handled it badly.
Naturally.
One evening he asked her into the kitchen after Oliver went to bed.
“I want to discuss something.”
Hannah looked suspicious.
“That sounds terrible.”
“What?”
“Nobody begins anything good with ‘I want to discuss something.’”
He exhaled.
“I have feelings for you.”
She stared.
Dominic looked almost annoyed at himself.
“There. Direct.”
“Very.”
“I understand the employment issue complicates matters.”
“Quite a bit.”
“I can restructure your role.”
“That is the least romantic sentence anyone has ever spoken to me.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
“This is going badly.”
“Spectacularly.”
He opened them.
Hannah was smiling.
That gave him courage.
“I’m trying not to use money or authority to make this easier.”
“Good.”
“And I don’t want Oliver’s attachment to you to create pressure.”
“Also good.”
“So…”
“So?”
“I would like to take you to dinner.”
“We eat dinner together four nights a week.”
“Outside.”
“We sometimes eat outside.”
“At a restaurant.”
“With Oliver?”
“No.”
Hannah tilted her head.
“Are you asking me on a date, Dominic Vale?”
“Yes.”
“Then ask.”
His entire corporate empire could not save him.
“Hannah Brooks, would you go on a date with me?”
She let him suffer for three seconds.
“Yes.”
Their first date was terrible.
Paparazzi found them.
Dominic chose a restaurant so formal Hannah whispered that the napkins had a better education than she did.
He accidentally ordered food she hated.
She spilled sparkling water on him.
They left after forty-five minutes and ate cheeseburgers in his car.
That part was perfect.
Months passed.
Oliver accepted the change with suspicious enthusiasm.
“You kissed Hannah.”
Dominic nearly choked.
“Who told you?”
“My eyes.”
Hannah laughed so hard she had to leave the room.
Dominic crouched beside his son.
“Does that bother you?”
Oliver shrugged.
“No.”
“You can always tell me.”
“I know.”
Then he narrowed his eyes.
“You marry her?”
Dominic stared.
“We’ve been dating three months.”
Oliver sighed.
“Slow.”
Life began becoming ordinary.
Wonderfully ordinary.
Then one February morning Oliver’s preschool called.
There had been an incident.
Dominic and Hannah arrived together.
A classroom aide explained that another child had accidentally locked Oliver in a supply closet for less than a minute.
Oliver panicked.
Kicked the door.
Screamed.
Knocked over shelves.
The aide looked uncomfortable.
“We were concerned this represents a return of his aggressive behavior.”
Dominic stared at her.
Once, that phrase would have frightened him.
Now he knew better.
He turned to Oliver.
The boy sat shaking in a chair.
Dominic knelt.
“Were you scared?”
Oliver nodded.
“Did you think it was the bad room?”
Another nod.
“Did you try to get out?”
“Yes.”
Dominic held out his arms.
Oliver climbed into them.
The aide began, “Mr. Vale, we do need to address the property damage—”
“We will.”
Dominic’s voice remained calm.
“But first we address the frightened five-year-old.”
Hannah looked at him.
Pride softened her expression.
Dominic finally understood.
Healing did not mean Oliver would never panic again.
It meant when he did, someone would understand what the panic was saying.
That evening Oliver drew another picture.
Three figures.
Then he added a fourth.
An older woman standing near a pond.
“Grandma,” he explained.
Eleanor received her first hug the following week.
It lasted two seconds.
May you like
She cried for twenty minutes afterward.
And no one told Oliver he had to give another.
