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Ellis nods once, then turns his attention back to Robbie. “Did you tell Miss Fox about the field day yet?”
Robbie freezes mid-chew, his eyes going wide. He quickly swallows, his hands clutching Rexy a little tighter. “Uh... no.”
“Field day?” I ask, tilting my head curiously.
Ellis nods. “Yes, at Robbie’s school next week. It’s an annual event near the end of the year—games, activities, and competitions for the children. Parents and other adults often volunteer to help.” He looks pointedly at Robbie. “I thought perhaps Master Robbie would like to know if you’d be willing to volunteer.”
Robbie shifts in his seat, suddenly looking shy. His gaze drops to his plate, and he mumbles something I can’t quite catch.
“What was that?” I ask gently, leaning closer.
He hesitates for a moment, then peeks up at me. “Would you want to... you know, come to field day?”
My heart squeezes at how uncertain he sounds, like he’s not sure if I’ll say yes.
“Of course, I’d love to!” I say enthusiastically, giving him my brightest smile. “That sounds like so much fun.”
Robbie’s eyes brighten instantly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Really?”
“Really,” I assure him. “I can’t wait. I’d love to meet all your friends. What kinds of games do they have?”
Robbie’s smile fades, and he looks down at his plate again, poking at a piece of pancake with his fork.
“What’s wrong?” I ask gently.
“Actually, I don’t want to go,” he says after a long pause, stumbling over the word “actually.”
“Why not?” I ask, frowning. “Field day sounds like it’d be a blast.”
He shrugs, still not meeting my eyes. “I just don’t like it.”
I tilt my head, studying him. “You don’t like the games?”
Another shrug.
“Come on, Robbie,” I say, keeping my tone light. “You can tell me.”
He hesitates, clutching Rexy tighter. Finally, he mumbles, “No one ever wants to play with me.”
My heart aches at his words.
“Oh, Robbie,” I say softly. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs again, but there’s a sadness in his eyes that breaks my heart.
“You know what?” I say, leaning closer. “I think this year will be different. You’ll have fun, I promise.”
He looks up at me, his expression uncertain. “Youthink so?”
“I know so,” I say firmly. “And if you want, I’ll do some of the events with you. How about that?”
“Really?” he asks, his voice small but hopeful.
“Really,” I say, smiling.
He hesitates, then says, “Promise?”
“I promise,” I say, holding out my pinky.