“Do you think Georgie’s open mic night was good last night?”
Duncan has not spoken to me as much as he has in the past two days in the whole time I’ve known him. Since Georgie was here for dinner, he’s been chattering nonstop about the bookstore, about her computer he tried to fix by sticking it in a bag of rice, and about Toto. There was also a soliloquy about autobiographies which I didn’t understand and, oh, yeah.
Questions about what a fake fiancée means.
“Want to call and ask her how it was?” I hand him my phone. “I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
Duncan takes the phone, eyes it, and puts it on the counter. “Nah. I don’t want to look thirsty.”
“Thirsty.” I swallow a laugh. Who knew ten-year-olds could be so precocious? “I don’t think she’ll see it as thirsty, buddy, Just curious.”
“Maybe you want to call her,” he challenges, crossing his arms.
“If I do, I’ll just call her.” I look up from the paperworkI’m not-so-fully engrossed in and point to the ping-pong table in the middle of the barn. “Want to play a game when I’m done?”
Duncan nods. “Sure. Then next time Georgie’s out, she can play the winner.”
Putting my pen down, I put Duncan in my sights. Time for a man-to-man talk. “You know, I noticed that from the moment you got to know her, you’ve been super attached to Georgie. Is there a reason why?”
Duncan shrugs as he picks up a ping-pong ball and starts to tap it with a paddle, keeping it under control as he chats with me. “Dunno.”
“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” When I see his eyes shift around the room, I give him further permission. “You can have a secret with her if you want and not tell me, but if you can let me know, I’d really like it. I want us to have the kind of relationship where you can come to me to talk about anything, Duncan. Everything. I’m not perfect, but maybe I can help, too?”
He’s quiet and reflective before he speaks. “Did you know she’s an orphan?” he asks thoughtfully as he catches the ball and stops tapping it repeatedly.
I nod, understanding coming over me. “She told me about her childhood.”
“She’s alone, like me. She gets me.” His eyes widen as he says the words. “Not that you don’t, it’s only that she’s different.”
“It’s fine,” I say, standing up and walking over to the table to join him. “I want you to know my door is always open for us to talk; you tell me when and where, and I’m there. And if you want to talk to Georgie, you talk to her.” I wait a beat before I press on. “Also, you’re not alone, Duncan. You’ve got us now. Me, my mom, and Austin. We’re here for you. Always.”
Duncan goes quiet, but his eyes say so much. I can see the fear, the worry, the lack of understanding yet also fully knowing and comprehending what’s going on around him. When he had asked us about the fake fiancée comment two nights ago, we’d quickly covered our bases. Georgie had insisted it was a movie she’d seen, and he’d let the comment slide under the rug.
This time.
“Look…” I kneel in front of him. ”You’ve been through something in your life that none of us will ever understand, so I’m making an appointment for us to go talk to someone.”
His eyes light up. “Georgie?”
“No.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “He’s a therapist, a man in town who you can talk to about how you feel and about your parents.”
Duncan’s brow furrows. “But you just said I can talk to you and Georgie.”
“You can, but this man will help you talk about losing your parents and how to handle those feelings. I’m going to go to see him, too, so that way we can all talk about it.” I push his bangs off his forehead, Georgie’s comment about him needing a haircut hitting home. “If you’re okay with me going, too, that is.”
He slowly nods, big brown eyes finding mine. “Will I have to talk about why I don’t want to live with Grandmom?”
Well, this is news. “You can, if you want.”
I stay still, not wanting to press him. The barn is quiet except for the occasional snore coming from one of the four truffle dogs that are in here with us sleeping. The small crew is usually with my mom when she’s here, but since she’s out running errands today, they followed Duncan and me to the barn.
“I don’t want to live with her,” he says, his voice small. “But I don’t want her to be sad that I’m not there.”
I feel a touch guilty for a second, but it does feel good to be the chosen one. “Feel like talking about why you don’t want to live with her?”
“Well, she doesn’t have a farm,” he says with all seriousness. “I mean, I know she wants me there, but I can’t be. She’s very sad all the time and wants to talk about what happened over and over again.”
“You don’t want to do that?”
