Caffrey Flashback

Chapter 35: Sugar Rush

"How did you know it was my idea?"

El took his arm. "When we saw the area in front of the shed had been shoveled, I remembered Joe's old trick. He played it on me the first time I stayed here." She smiled up at Peter. "And I remember you were shoveling with me and complaining the whole time about how bossy he was."

He smiled back, basking in those memories.

El leaned against him, watching the snowball fight. "How on earth do they have so much energy?"

"Wait till you go back inside and see what they had for breakfast." Peter glanced sidelong at Noelle, glad she wasn't crying anymore. "Noelle, do you mind if I ask a few questions?"

"That's fine. What do you want to know?"

"This whole father figure thing is new to me, and I... I wonder how parents can see their kids hurt and keep it together. What am I supposed to do for Neal, when what happened to him was so long ago? And am I supposed to let him see how concerned and worried I am, or should I hide that and be strong and in control so he knows he can lean on me?"

"There's a question for the ages. It's important to be honest. Don't hide your feelings, but don't exaggerate them either, or pretend to feel something you don't simply because you think it's how you should feel."

###

"I surrender." Neal laughed as Henry let him sit up again. The sneak attack from behind had been effective. He brushed snow off his coat and leaned against a tree. Satchmo seemed determined to lick his face, but finally subsided to sit beside him. "I'd like to paint this."

"We brought along some of your supplies," Henry said, "but how do you paint in this weather? Wouldn't your fingers freeze?"

"It helps to have a good memory. Anyway, it isn't the scenery I want to capture. It's the feeling." He looked at Henry's expression and grinned. "Yeah, I know abstracts aren't your thing."

"Hmm." Henry seemed miles away.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I've been distracted recently, but I can tell you're worried about something. What is it?"

Henry flopped down on the snow, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, and looked up at the sky. He was the picture of relaxation, but it was an act. He remained silent for a while, and finally said, "I think Robert's trying to get me fired."

Neal snorted. "Yeah, like Graham's going to let that happen. Your grandfather's got your back."

"I don't want him fighting my battles. If I'm supposed to take over Win-Win, I need to handle this."

"You've decided you want to stay with them?"

"Maybe. Whether I stay or not, I can't let Robert take over. I've got a really bad feeling about what he has planned."

Neal studied Henry a moment and said, "That's not all that's bothering you."

Henry met Neal's eyes. "You left some stuff out last night. You didn't mention the Hospital Game. You told me you started playing it when you were nine."

Neal thought back, and pieced together more memories. "Right. It was when I went back to get the cast removed. They told me they had a surprise for me. Turned out my mom got a day pass from the rehab center and was there at the hospital to see me. It was okay at first. I mean, she was sober and supportive and everything. By then I'd suppressed most of the memories and I was even happy to see her. But the longer she was there, the more I started to feel panicked. Eventually I slipped away to hide. Ellen found me and made a joke out of it, saying I loved playing hide-and-seek. But I could tell from Mom's expression that she knew I was running away from her."

"And the next time you played it was in Chicago, when a doctor at the hospital there reminded you of your mom."

"I turned it into a game, after that. Instead of running away from Mom, I was just hiding from you. It went from fear to fun."

"But we're not in a hospital this time."

"Huh?"

"You think I can't tell you're considering running?"

Neal wanted to deny it, but Henry was right. "I'm a good con artist. Better than you."

"Barely."

"I can disappear into a role and fool anyone."

Henry thought that one over a moment. "Even yourself. You think you can move into an identity that wasn't abused as a child and just forget what happened to you?"

"Could be worth a shot."

"No, it isn't," said Peter.

Henry sat up. Neal stopped leaning against the tree and straightened his posture before insisting, "Peter, you don't understand."

Peter sat on one of the sleds. Satchmo trotted over to have his ears scratched. "I think I understand well enough. Neal, you have to promise me that if you start to think things are so bad you have to run, you'll talk to me first. Or to Henry, if you really think I won't get it. But you have to give one of us a chance to help."

Neal leaned back again. "That sounds great out here, in the middle of nowhere. You'll feel different when we're back in Manhattan. Now that you know..."

"Know what?" Peter prompted.

"Everything. I'm damaged, Peter. I'm seriously messed up. When you think it through, you aren't going to want me working at the FBI. As long as I have to leave, I might as well make a fresh start. I could -"

"Whoa," said Peter. "No one said anything about you leaving the Bureau. The whole point of sending you into therapy was that you could stay. It's a little early to give up, don't you think?"

"But -"

"It's a simple yes-no question, Neal. I'm asking you to commit to continuing therapy instead of running away. Are you going to give up?"

Neal stared at him a moment before saying, "No."

"You're really not used to having someone lay down the law." Peter studied Neal and then said, "After what you went through as a kid, your mom and Ellen let you get away with anything, didn't they?"

Neal considered that. He had been given a lot of leeway, compared to his friends. "Maybe."

Peter stood up. "Almost time for lunch. Let's put these sleds away."