“Positive. If she gets bored, I’ll take her out somewhere.”

“Thanks.” Decker patted the boy’s shoulder, but there was no response. Like Jacob was made of stone. Or maybe he was just plain stoned. Jacob knew he was being sized up. He didn’t flinch from Decker’s scrutiny. “Uh…are you going out now?”

“Yeah, give me a few minutes.”

“Take your time. Call me when you need me.”

He closed the door in Decker’s face. Jake’s life was a giant tumor of repressed anger. Decker tried not to take it personally, but the tension left him queasy. He went over to Hannah, who was steadily working her way through the box of candy.

“How about a grilled cheese sandwich?”

The girl’s eyes were glued on the TV—Scooby Doo. Man, that had longevity. The talking Great Dane had been around when Cindy was a little girl.

“Hannah, did you hear me?”

“Grilled cheese is okay.”

She had heard him. Decker made up a grilled cheese sandwich, courtesy of an electronic sandwich maker that not only grilled but also molded the bread into an attractive shell shape. The aesthetics were lost on Hannah. She asked him to wrap it in a napkin so grease wouldn’t get all over her fingers. Meticulous at times, downright messy at other times. Kids never failed to mystify him.

He said, “Hannah, I’m going back to work now. Yonkie’s here if you need anything.”

“Where’s Eema?” she asked again.

As if repeating the question would make her mother appear.

“She’s at the shul.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going now.”

“Okay.”

“I love you.” He bent down and gave her a kiss. “Bye.”

The little girl chewed off a piece of dripping cheese. “Bye.”

The child was in TV narcolepsy. He patted her head, then heard Jacob summoning him. Actually, Jacob had called out, “Dad,” and that was good. When Jacob was angry, he called him Peter.

“Are you still here?” Jacob yelled from his room.

“I’m still here. What’s wrong?”

“Can you c’mere for a sec?”

Decker patted Hannah’s head again, then entered the inner sanctum of Jacob’s private space. Jacob always made his bed and kept his floor cleared of junk, but his desktop was covered with books, papers, candy wrappers, doodads, and other odd-shaped items that Decker couldn’t identify. Sammy’s bed and desk had been left in pristine condition, completely cleared of anything extraneous. Jacob refused to let his mess carry over to his absent brother’s side of the room. It was as if Jacob kept it clean in hopes that Sammy would materialize.

“I think you’d better hear this.” Jacob turned on his answering machine.