with kids—the younger they are, the more resilient, I guess. Perhaps he’s already done what Amy and I are hoping to do, and chalked the whole thing up to a bad dream.”
Tom’s frowned remained. “Strange that he hasn’t even shown the slightest signs of post-traumatic stress.”
Amy shrugged. “Both kids slept with us when we got home. We insisted on it. But after a few days Caleb wanted to go back to his own bed. He’s been fine ever since; he putters around here as though nothing happened.”
“Which is fine by us,” Patrick said. “Carrie’s been struggling so much, it helps us devote a little more attention towards soothing her without having to worry if Caleb is receiving equal care.”
“As odd as it may sound,” Amy began, “I suppose their reactions mimic their personalities. Carrie has always been the high-strung, extroverted one. Caleb could be sitting next to you on the sofa and sometimes you’ll forget he’s even there.”
“He’s a tough little bugger—just like his old man,” Jamie said with a smile.
Patrick returned the gesture, but it was labored.
Jamie played with something on his plate, his attention obviously elsewhere. Patrick sensed something coming he wouldn’t like.
“How did you do it, Patrick?” Jamie asked. He then looked at Amy. “How did you both do it?”
Patrick ate a mouthful of food as a means to buy time. After swallowing, he feigned ignorance. “Do what?”
“How did you manage…to do what it was that you did…to come out alive?”
“Jamie,” Alexis said.
Patrick and Amy shared what seemed like their one-hundredth glance before Patrick fixed on Jamie. “Like I said, Jamie—we’re trying to forget it.”
Jamie held up a hand. “Okay, I’m sorry. I was just…no, I’m sorry.”
Patrick smiled genuinely. These were his friends; they had been drinking; they were curious. Likely, he’d be the same way. “It’s okay, man. Maybe some day.”
A whine emerged from beneath the table. All six adults leaned to one side and looked below them. Oscar stood by Patrick’s feet, wagging the stump that used to be his tail.
“Now here’s someone we could all take a lesson from,” Patrick said. “The poor thing had his tail sliced off, and all he cares about is getting some leftovers.”
The table laughed—a good laugh this time; no placating; nothing awkward.
“I guess if you can find one good thing to come from all of this…” Alexis said.
Amy snorted. “Speak for yourself. He eats more than all four of us combined. I don’t know where he puts it in that little body of his. That mangy mutt is going to eat us out of house and home.”
Another good laugh from the table.
When it faded, Tom asked, “You don’t think he’s a reminder? The dog?”
It was a good question, one that Patrick had never really considered. He looked at Amy for help. She looked mildly annoyed at the query.
“He makes Carrie happy. We’re not about to take that away from her,” was all she said.
Tom smiled and nodded fast, seemingly realizing that he too had just joined Jamie Brown on the Inappropriate Dinner Conversation Team. “Good, good, I’m glad,” he said.
* * *
Dessert and coffee were done, and a brief silence returned once again. Clinks and tinks from glasses, plates, and silverware played a broken tune.
Carrie’s sudden scream from upstairs broke the silence.
Both Patrick and Amy leapt from the table, the squeak of their chairs on the wooden floor like sneakers on a basketball court.
The couple bounded upstairs, the dinner guests leaving their seats and forming a group at the base of the stairs.
Carrie was upright in bed, sobbing, her sheets soaked with sweat. Amy wiped her daughter’s matted hair from her eyes and flashed on Carrie’s insistence to have her bangs cut when they first arrived at Crescent Lake. She began to cry with her daughter as she held her tight. Patrick sat at the foot of the bed, rubbing his daughter’s shaking legs. He lowered his head and fought back his own tears.
* * *
Patrick returned to the group at the base of the stairs alone. He explained that Carrie had a nightmare and that Amy was consoling her. He did not have to ask everyone to leave. They took the cue.
* * *
Hugging his final guest before shutting the door behind them, Patrick returned upstairs to Carrie’s room where she had managed to fall back to sleep in Amy’s arms.
“Are you going to stay in here with her tonight?” he whispered.
She shook her head, then slowly slid her way out from beneath her daughter, gently lowering