Damage Control

[intheheart]

Title: Damage Control
Rating: PG-13.
Summary: Robbie says something he shouldn't have; Joseph runs damage control.
Warnings: implications of period-appropriate homophobia.
Notes: Kids say the darndest things.


Robbie kept his head down, at the beginning.

This visit had been terrible, and he did not even understand why. All he had done was tell his friend George about Mama and Aunt Ivy and how much they loved each other, and suddenly everyone was angry at him—George, George's mama, George's papa especially. Then Robbie's papa had arrived and been very angry at everyone, and he'd even offered to meet George's papa, not that Robbie knew what that meant because obviously they knew each other, but from George's mama's little gasp it must be very bad. But George's papa had said there was no need for that and surely they were mistaken, and Papa had turned to Robbie and said very loud "we must leave now" and Robbie followed along meek as he could be, because Papa when he was angry was very angry indeed.

Papa sat quiet in the carriage for a while, his head tipped back against the squabs, then he sighed, and sat forward. "Robbie, why did you do that?"

"I don't know," Robbie mumbled.

"You don't know why you did it," Papa asked, more gently than Robbie had expected, "or you don't know what you did?"

Robbie thought about it, then ventured, "Both?"

Papa chuckled a little, and Robbie relaxed. "Poor Robbie. I suppose it all seems very natural to you, the way we live."

Wasn't it? Robbie kept silent.

"Well," Papa said, after a silent, rattling moment. "What you did—you must not speak of your mama and your Aunt Ivy in public, Robbie. At least, you must not speak of how they feel about each other."

Robbie frowned, confused. "George's mama doesn't have a companion," he said. "I was only asking why not, because of Mama and Aunt Ivy. I thought every mama had a companion. Don't they?"

"Not all mamas," Papa said. "George's mama, of course, and your mama's friend Mrs. Foster. Your Aunt Ivy's mother hasn't a companion either."

Aunt Ivy's mama was not a lady, like Mama and George's mama. But Robbie did not say so because Papa liked Aunt Ivy's mama very much and, if he told the truth, so did he. "Why not?"

Papa shrugged. "Your mama has one because she needs the company. George's mama and Mrs. Foster and Mrs. Kendall find that company in their husbands."

Robbie frowned again. "And you and Mama don't..." He stopped, not really sure what word he wanted.

"Not in that way," Papa said, and gave a dry little laugh. "Never you fear, my boy, your mama and I are very good friends, and we love each other very much. But your mama and your Aunt Ivy..." He hesitated, and Robbie thought he did not know what word to use either. "They love each other differently. Like Uncle Evan and I love each other—and you must never speak of me and Uncle Evan in public either, not of the way we love each other. It is very important, Robbie, do you understand?"

He didn't, not quite, but he nodded anyway, because he did not understand why it was a secret, but he did understand that it was. "Can I speak of it to my friends? They're not public, not really."

Papa gave him a long, thoughtful look, then said, "Ye-es, but you must be very careful which friends you tell, and you must not tell without asking me or your mama first."

"Of course," Robbie said, because it was not his secret to tell. "But George is my friend, and he made such a fuss."

Papa sighed, reached out and ruffled Robbie's hair. "I do not think he is as much your friend as you believe, Robbie. But never mind that. Only be careful who you trust, be careful who you make your friend." He sighed again, and looked out the window. "You never know who will betray you."

He did not seem inclined to speak, after that, so Robbie stayed quiet for the rest of the ride.