“I’m hungry,” Duncan says from the kitchen.
“Just give me a minute,” I holler. When I come back into the kitchen, Duncan rests his head on the table and cradles his arm. I can tell he’s in a lot of pain. I grab a pot and start making macaroni and cheese. “Hopefully Mom will be back any minute so we can get your arm checked out,” I say. Duncan doesn’t answer me.
The doorbell rings just as Duncan is eating his last bite. Ian stands on the step with his hockey gear.
“That was quick,” I say. “I thought you were going to stay and play?”
“Cody slapped every puck we had into the woods. We couldn’t find them. He was being such a jerk no one wanted to stick around. Are you going to let me in or what?”
“Yeah…yeah, come on in.”
Ian flings his boots off and leaves them in a heap by the back door. When he sees Duncan, he says, “We sure could have used you at the pond.”
“I hurt my arm,” Duncan mumbles.
“Want something to eat, Ian?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m starving,” says Ian.
“Sandwich okay?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
I pull out ingredients from the meat tray and dump them on the counter. Ian grabs the bread, and we make monster-sized layered sandwiches.
“Hey, look at this.” Ian picks up the cheese-slice package and reads the back. “Kids Help Phone. 1-800 blah blah blah. That’s a weird place to put that.”
“Let me see.” I grab the package. “You’re right. That is weird.”
“Yeah,” Ian says with a mouthful. “Can you imagine calling them and saying, I’m having trouble making my cheese sandwich. Can you help me?”
We laugh so hard that I don’t hear Mom come into the kitchen. Her hair is a mess of tangles, and her makeup is smeared underneath her eyes.
“Oh no! What happened to Duncan?”
“I was fighting,” Duncan says in a low voice.
“You were what?” She then looks at me. “Oh my goodness! What happened to your eye?”
“He wasn’t fighting,” I snap. “He slipped on the ice! And my eye, well—”
“Spider-Man was fighting!” Duncan pounds his good fist onto the table. “I got him in my web!”
“Okay, Duncan, settle down. It sounds like—”
“My arm hurts!” says Duncan.
Mom sits down next to him. “Let’s have a look.”
“Don’t touch it!” Duncan orders. “Only Spider-Man can.”
“This isn’t the time to fool around, Duncan.”
“I think it might be sprained,” I say. “Mr. Cooper put the sling on.”
“Mr. Cooper?”
“Yeah, we were locked out. I forgot my key.”
“Oh, Max…Why didn’t you ring the doorbell?”
“I did! For, like, five minutes!” I say.
“Oh. I didn’t hear it.” Her face falls.
“My arm hurts!” Duncan wails.
“I know, Duncan. So, what happened to your eye, Max?” Mom looks right at me.
“I’ll tell you later,” I say.
“We were fighting,” Duncan says.
“For Pete’s sake. What is going on?” Tears fill her eyes.
“Nothing, Mom. It’s like I said. We fell on the ice.”
She looks at the clock. “Oh great— the clinic closes in less than an hour. Look at me! I’m a mess. I can’t see the doctor like this.”
“You don’t look all that bad, Mrs. O’Neil,” Ian says.
I cringe. I can’t even look at her. I stare at my feet. I know Ian is trying to help. The old Mom would have smiled at Ian’s attempt to say something nice. Ian forgets we’re dealing with the new Mrs. O’Neil—the one who’s lost her sense of humor and everything else that used to make her fun.
“Does your mother know you’re here, Ian?” she asks.
“I, er, no. She thinks I’m on the pond. I came to see how Duncan was.”
“Perhaps you should go, Ian,” says Mom.
“But he just got here!” I say.
“Max. Not today. I’ll be down in five minutes, Duncan.”
“Your mom is kind of freaked out. Do you think she’s mad at us?” Ian asks at the back door.
“Wouldn’t be anything new. She’s always mad now, and everything that goes wrong is my fault!”