Moose and Goose

Chapter Fifteen

Walter thrusts the door open with Robert – Judith's oldest sister's husband – behind him. Her brother-in-law's skin is that of mocha, contrary to her father's dark umber complexion, and his dark brown irises are gentle despite what's happening in front of him.

"Boy, have you lost your damn mind?" As his son races up each step, he rushes toward the stairs, Robbie taking average strides with his hands in his jeans pockets. Walter approaches him and says calmly, "I'm sorry, son. Usually, the kids have eaten dinner by now and are in bed."

"Oh, no, it's fine," he assures him, flashing his top row of teeth with a smile. Sheryl folds her arms at her husband. "My kids are with my mother, and they can be – hectic."

"Why is Baby Girl crying," he asks his wife, his voice irritated as he turns his head to her. Stevie slams his door.

"Because your son slammed the door so hard I dropped the pressing comb on her ear." Walter peeks between his wife and daughter, searching for Vera. He notices her sitting with her right ear in her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'll be right back. Sheryl, is the food almost done?" He slowly ascends the steps, waiting for her answer. When she nods, he runs to the second floor of their house.

"I'll go put some ice on her ear," Judith tells her mother before stepping into the kitchen. Robert shakes his head, chuckling dryly.

"Does this happen often," he asks, and Sheryl narrows her eyes at him. Judy retracts a cube of ice from a blue tray in the fridge's freezer.

"Aren't you a social worker?" She glances at him as she strolls toward her sister.

"Open this door, or I'll knock it down, Stevie," Walter threatens, and his wife drops her arms. Vera places her hands on her lap to allow her to ease the pain of the forming burn mark.

"Yes, I've been in this field since I graduated," he answers her question with a smile.

"Hm, well, thank you for your concern, but focus on my grandbabies instead of my children." She returns to her initial place in the kitchen, watching him raise his hands in playful surrender.

"Yes, ma'am." He stands in the doorframe and leans to the right.

"How're Cynthia and Charles," she asks. Vera sniffles.

"They're okay. I haven't told them about Stacey yet; they wouldn't understand." He and Judy lower their heads, and Sheryl nods.

"And how's Stacey?" His smile fades, and he doesn't reply. "Robbie?"

"She's – some days are good." He forces a grin through his misty gaze. "I don't know how to help her, and I don't know how to help myself. What she did – I'll talk to you about it another time."

"I understand." They avert their attention to the staircase when a familiar crackle echoes from the second floor.

Stevie hollers after a brief moment of silence as if his attempts to suppress it weren't enough. "Well, that's my cue. I'll swing by in the morning before I head to work."

"Alright. Kiss the kids for me," she tells him as he walks to the exit.

"Will do. Goodnight, Ma." He shuts the door behind him on the way out, and Judy sighs. The ice has melted with only a tiny chip left in her grasp.

"Go wash your hands and fix the plates," Sheryl instructs her. When she proceeds to walk toward the stairs, her mother stands behind Vera.

***

Judith grips the straps of her overalls hanging off her hips as she waits for the bus. She's standing next to the empty bench that Jerome and his friends crowd around, occasionally glancing at it.