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He shakes his head but doesn’t look up.
“You can tell me,” I add, though my voice sounds stiffer than I intend.
“I just liked her.” He shrugs, his small shoulders barely moving. “Didn’t she like me?”
I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. What can I even say to that? How do I begin to respond?
Why would Robbie even say something like that?
Before I can find the right words, Evelyn is there already, rushing to his side.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says gently, her voice warm and soothing. “Of course she liked you. How could she not? You’re such a sweet boy.”
Robbie looks up at her hesitantly, his big hazel eyes searching her face for reassurance.
“Really?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Evelyn nods, offering him a small smile. “Really. Why would you think that she didn’t like you?”
He shrugs one shoulder, his eyes glued to the table. “She doesn’t want to come back.”
“Honey,” Evelyn says, pulling my son into her arms. “she probably just has a lot of responsibilities at work, that’s all. It doesn’t mean she didn’t like spending time with you.”
Robbie frowns, his fingers curling tighter around his fork. “But I want her to come back.”
“I know, sweetheart. Sometimes adults have to make tough decisions about their time, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t enjoy being with you.”
I watch the exchange silently, a knot tightening in my chest, feeling completely useless. I’ve never been good at this—this comforting, this explaining. Evelyn handles it with ease. Everyone handles it with ease—even Annie, apparently, though she claimed she’d never babysat before.
Everyone except me.
Robbie nods slowly, though the disappointment is still clear in his expression. He picks up a piece of pancake but doesn’t eat it, just stares at it like it’s suddenly lost its appeal.
Evelyn stands and puts on hand on Robbie’s head and musses up his hair. Over his head, she gives me a pointed look as if to say,Your turn.
I clear my throat, unsure how to even begin. “Robbie,” I say, my voice softer than usual. “I’m going to find someone who can be here for you all the time, someone who can do the same things Annie did. Maybe even better.”
Robbie’s gaze doesn’t lift from his plate, and his grip on the fork tightens. “But I don’t want someone else,” he mutters.
I feel a pang of guilt, sharp and unexpected. I’m used to dealing with high-stakes negotiations, multimillion-dollardeals, and board room standoffs. But this? This is entirely different, and I feel woefully unprepared.
“You liked her,” I say, more as a statement than a question.
He nods. “She played dinosaurs with me.”
The simplicity of the words hits me harder than I expect. I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair.
The sight of him like this—so small, so dejected—nearly breaks me. Robbie doesn’t ask for much—in fact, he never asks me for anything. For him to latch onto Annie like this... it’s unexpected.
Evelyn breaks the tense silence, her tone a little lighter this time. “Well, we can’t make any promises, but who knows? Maybe Annie will visit again sometime. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Robbie looks up at her, the smallest glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You think so?”
“Maybe,” Evelyn says with a soft smile. “But in the meantime, we’ll make sure whoever comes next will play dinosaurs with you, too, okay?”
Robbie nods reluctantly, finally putting the piece of pancake in his mouth.
I exhale slowly, grateful for Evelyn’s intervention. She always seems to know what to say, how to smooth things over. But as I watch Robbie quietly return to his breakfast, the guiltlingers.