Oxytocin

Chapter Three

When they went back downstairs, Naomi was in the living room (supervised by her mother), playing with some of her toys. It was some matching game— Wes didn't quite get it just from looking.

Annie and Sophie were also there, playing with a dollhouse and talking amongst themselves.

Lily was trying to read while Maddy bugged her. She'd gotten better at staying patient, asking what she needed her attention for and then ignoring her if she was just bothering her for the sake of bothering her.

"Jeff!" Maddy asked as they came into the room, walking over. "What happened with Blaine?" she demanded, stamping her foot.

"Something happened with Blaine?" Sophie asked, tuning in. "Is he alright?"

"Bean?" Naomi repeated in distress, noticing the worry filling the room. Her mother picked her up, soothing her before she started crying.

"Blaine is fine, nothing happened," Jeff assured them. "She's asking about something that happened a long time ago. Something that's personal and nobody needs to know," he added, directing it at Maddy.

"Not fair! You told Lily!"

"I didn't, actually. I told her what I'm telling you, that it's personal and nobody needs to know about it," Jeff said.

Maddy looked back at Lily, who nodded, confirming that she didn't know. "But— but you told Wes!"

"Blaine told me," Wes corrected. And sometimes I wish I didn't know.

She huffed, crossing her arms and stomping off.

Mrs. Sterling looked over at her son, mouthing, 'His father?' and Jeff nodded. She gave him a grateful look for not telling them.

"I didn't know people actually had dollhouses," Wes mused, looking at the two girls who had returned to playing happily. "I thought it was just something they made up for TV."

Jeff chuckled. "Really? They're actually pretty common. I mean, most stuff on TV comes from something, right? It's not just completely made up."

"Matching, cute, family pajamas?" Wes countered.

"We actually have those, for Christmas."

"Kids playing with action figures?"

"Also real."

"Kids having 'security blankets?'"

"Definitely real."

"Bean bag chairs?"

"Real."

"Kids playing on trampolines?"

"Real."

"Making snowmen?"

"Real."

"Water balloon fights?"

"Real."

"Water gun fights?"

"Real."

"Kids playing 'dress-up?'"

"Real."

"Finger-painting?"

"Real."

"Blowing bubbles?"

"Real."

"Flying kites?"

"Real."

Wes's tone was getting less challenging, and more curious. Jeff's was cautious.

"Kids having tea parties?"

"Real."

"Those plastic above-ground mini-pools for kids?"

"Real."

"Stuffed animals?"

"You've NEVER had a stuffed animal?" Sophie exclaimed, looking shocked.

"Those are actually a thing?" Wes asked, surprised.

Sophie ran upstairs, ignoring her mother's call to not run inside the house, and back down before anyone said anything else. She pushed a stuffed dog into Wes's arms. "His name is Fish."

Wes delicately held the little stuffed thing, mesmerized. "It's so soft. And squishy."

Jeff was watching Wes closely. "Wes, what toys did you have growing up?"

"Toys?" he asked, still staring at the stuffed dog.

"You know... What did you play with, what did you do to keep yourself entertained?"

"I mean... I had books, I guess. I read a lot."

"You didn't have any toys?" Jeff asked, floored. "Not even educational ones?"

Wes looked over at him. "Your tone is telling me that this is a very big deal."

"Your mommy and daddy didn't give you toys?" Annie asked, pouting.

He shrugged. "No."

Annie burst into tears, blubbering about how his parents were meanies, and Wes jumped in his seat, turning to Jeff frantically. "I misread this situation, I didn't think it was that big of a deal!" he whisper-shouted.

"It's kinda a big deal," Jeff responded. "Like... Every child has toys. Store-bought, homemade, whatever, they have some kind of toy. From a— a hundred-dollar remote control helicopter to a stick they pretend is a magic wand. You didn't have anything like that?"

"Well... No. I read books, learned things. Learned to take notes. If I said anything that wasn't logical, even if it was about some strange dream I had, they didn't like it. I didn't exactly 'play pretend,' my imagination was kinda... Stamped out."

His voice was quiet, so only Jeff could hear it. This was definitely good, considering even Jeff looked horrified at this news. He'd heard a lot about Wes's life, but even he couldn't predict this.

Jeff got up. "Alright. Come with me, we have an errand to run."

"Okay?"