“Really nice.” And I guess I’m happy to change the subject, because I’ve been thinking about our dinner date since I got out of bed. “We’re going out tonight. He wants to drive to Princeton. Some kind of tapas restaurant.”
“Oooh, those places are so romantic.”
“He’s picking me up at five thirty.”
“Then I’ll try to get home early. Give you some extra time to get ready.” Then she checks the time. “Shoot, I better go. I’m so excited for you, Mallory! You’re going to have so much fun tonight!”
* * *
After Caroline leaves, I find Teddy sitting in the den, mesmerized by a game of Angry Birds. He’s using his finger to stretch and release a giant slingshot; he’s launching colorful birds at a series of wood and steel structures occupied by pigs. With each new attack, there’s a cacophony of screeches, explosions, bangs, blasts, and slide whistles. I sit across from Teddy and clap my hands together. “So, what are we doing this morning? A little stroll in the Enchanted Forest? Or how about a Bake-Off?”
He shrugs, swiping furiously. “I don’t care.”
One of the birds misses its target and Teddy furrows his brow, frustrated by the results. He hunches closer to the screen, almost like he’s trying to disappear inside it.
“Come on, Teddy. Put the game away.”
“I’m not done.”
“Mommy says it’s for Quiet Time. She doesn’t want you using it all morning.”
He turns away from me, shielding the tablet with his body. “Just one more level.”
“How long is a level?”
It turns out that one more level takes a good half hour. After he’s finished, Teddy pleads with me to charge the iPad, so he’ll have enough batteries for later.
We spend the morning trampling around the Enchanted Forest. I try to make up a new adventure story for Prince Teddy and Princess Mallory, but all Teddy wants to discuss is Angry Birds strategy. Yellow birds are best for attacking wood structures. Black birds can destroy concrete walls. White birds accelerate after dropping their egg bombs. It’s not really a conversation; he’s just reciting a string of facts and data, like he’s trying to organize the rules in his mind.
I spy a glint of silver in a bed of leaves and I kneel down to investigate. It’s the bottom half of an arrow; the top part with the feathers is missing and all that remains is the aluminum shaft and a pyramid-shaped tip.
“This is a magic missile,” I tell Teddy. “It’s used for slaying goblins.”
“That’s cool,” Teddy says. “Also, the green bird is a boomerang bird. He gets double-damage when he attacks. So I like to play him first.”
I suggest that we hike to the Giant Beanstalk and add the arrow to our arsenal of weapons. Teddy agrees, but his participation feels half-hearted. It’s like he’s just biding his time, running down the clock until morning is over and we can go back to the house.
* * *
I offer to make Teddy anything he wants for lunch but he says he doesn’t care so I just make grilled cheese. As he wolfs down the sandwich, I remind him that he doesn’t have to use the iPad during Quiet Time. I suggest it might be fun to play LEGOs or Lincoln Logs or farm animals. And he glances at me like I’m trying to swindle him, like I’m trying to cheat him out of a privilege he has rightfully earned.
“Thanks, but I’ll do my game,” he says.
He carries the tablet up to his bedroom and after a few minutes I climb the stairs to the second floor and press my ear to his bedroom door. There are no whispered words, no half-conversations. Just occasional laughter from Teddy, and the sounds of stretching slingshots, squawking birds, and imploding buildings. He sounds giddy with delight, but something in his happiness makes me sad. Overnight, like flipping a switch, I feel as if something magical has been lost.
I go downstairs, take out my phone, and call the number of the Rest Haven Retirement Community. I tell the receptionist that I’m looking to speak with one of the residents, Dolores Jean Campbell. The phone rings several times before a default voice mail greeting kicks on.
“Um, hi, my name is Mallory Quinn? We don’t know each other, but I think maybe you can help me?”
I realize I have no idea how to explain my question, that I should have practiced what to say before the call, but now it’s too late and I just need to blunder ahead.
“I wondered if your mother was someone named Annie Barrett. From Spring Brook, New Jersey. Because if she is, I would really love to talk with you. Can you please call me back?”