In the weeks the passed, the Hardys settled into their new lives. Fenton got to know the local police and became reacquainted their chief, a stern-faced man named Ezra Collig. Fenton had known him, briefly, when he was a cop in New York City, and he would have to have the chief's signature and approval to gain his P.I. license.
Collig was given all of Fenton's records and paperwork, and had verified that he had worked for an investigative firm for a little over three years. He checked Fenton's records from his years as a police officer in the state of New York several years before that. And then Fenton had had to complete a written test. This was little problem for him, as he knew the law backwards and forwards.
And finally, Fenton gained his license, and began setting up his agency.
Frank and Joey's time was spent either avoiding each other, or playing together amid a sort of unspoken truce. It was easy to see that Frank was having a difficult time adjusting to suddenly having another boy around the house, a boy very close in age with Frank, who competed for many things. Their parents' attention was not the least of these things. Laura Hardy had found a job in town as a salesperson in a furniture/appliance store, and worked a full week. When she was home, she did pay the boys quite a bit of attention, but there were now two boys in the house, and it was difficult sometimes not to make one feel left out. And then there was Fenton. Fenton was busier than he ever was, getting his fledgling business off the ground. He did have a very good reputation as an investigator, but it was still quite difficult to start one's own business. And he did not have as much time as he would have liked for his sons.
As a result, Frank and Joey spent a lot more time together than Frank would have liked. He didn't hate the kid, or even dislike him. But he did resent him. He felt bad sometimes, and it was then that he would seek Joey out and ask if he wanted to play tag, or ball, or go to the playground with Chet if he was in the area. Frank would see the unrepressed delight in Joey's face, and it would even make Frank feel good. There were times that he did like being a big brother.
But then at home, he would see Fenton pick Joey up and swing him around and think, 'if Joey wasn't here, Dad'd be doing that with me.' Or he would see his mother kiss Joey's forehead and wish that Joey weren't here. It wasn't that either parent doted no Joey at Frank's exclusion... But Joey being there meant less time for Frank.
Frank knew that how he was thinking was selfish, and he knew that at times, it was unkind. But he also knew that he couldn't help it, and the "sad" that he felt was real. And who liked being sad?
"Why do you feel sad?" asked Fenton one night, after supper was finished and Joey was expending his excess of energy climbing trees in the backyard.
Frank bit his lip. Fenton's voice was gentle and curious, and held no accusation, but Frank felt guilty all the same. He shrugged. "I just do." He had blurted this out that night at supper, that he always felt sad, and he didn't like it.
"Is it because of Joey?"
Frank shrugged again, and then nodded, biting hard on his lip.
"Care to talk about it?"
There was nothing for a good two minutes as Frank stared at the floor, trying to decide. Did he want to discuss it? What if his dad thought he was acting like a brat? He couldn't stand it when his father or his mother showed disapproval. Disapproval was something that Frank did not take well. But then, maybe if they knew how bad the whole thing made Frank feel, they'd do something about it! With this encouraging, if not exactly charitable thought in his head, Frank said, "I'm sad...I'm sad because Joey took part of you guys!"
Fenton blinked, looking at Frank for a moment, and then stood up. "C'mon, son, let's go up into my study, okay? I think we need to talk."
Frank looked up uncertainly; he always thought that the words "we need to talk" had a rather ominous sound to them, and he thought that even the words "you're in big trouble" weren't a whole lot scarier. But when he looked up at Fenton's face, he saw no anger or disapproval, in fact he was smiling fondly at his son. But he seemed a little sad, also! Marveling at this, Frank followed his father upstairs without a word.
Fenton's new office was one of the bedrooms on the second floor, and Frank had not yet been in it. Not that he had been forbidden, he simply hadn't the interest. Now he took a moment to look around. Fenton's big, oak desk stood on the wall opposite the door, nice and neat, with a cup full of pens and a few plastic trays of papers. Two large filing cabinets stood along the same wall. To one side was a closet, which Frank could see was empty, and Dad's computer station (large desk, lots of disks, and fairly new computer system). To the other side was a large cabinet with a lock, and here Frank assumed his father had his gun and its ammo, and probably some things like handcuffs and the like that he had sometimes used in his detecting. Dad's office chair was behind the oak desk, and two comfortable chairs had been put in front. Fenton sat in one of these, and invited Frank to do the same, so that both of them sat in front of the desk.
"First off," Fenton started. "Know that you're not in trouble. I suspected you might be a bit worried about that."
Frank nodded, looking unhappy.
"Now...when you say that Joey took part of us...what did you mean?"
Frank fidgeted for a moment, before answering. "Well...you know. You guys don't have a lot of time, and the time you DO have, you give a lot of it to Joey! But you used to just give it to me." He bit his lip, knowing even at seven that it sounded selfish. "I can't help it..."
Still using the same calm, kind tone, Fenton asked, "Do you think that we love you any less?"
Frank shrugged. "No...I guess not. But you gotta divide your love because there's two of us, now. So I lost some."
At this, Fenton chuckled, leaning forward to smooth Frank's hair back, and tilted his head a bit so their eyes could meet. "Absolutely not. While yes, perhaps our attention may be a bit divided, our love never will be. I read an article one time about a woman who had a great many children. I think they might have all been adopted. Even so. Someone asked her, how do you divide your love among so many kids? And she looked at him and said, 'you don't divide your love, you multiply it.'" He looked at the confused expression on his boy's face and explained. "Love it not something that you only have so much of. Human hearts can hold infinite amounts. When a new person that you love comes into your life, that new person just gives you a whole lot more love to work with. So no one loses any love. Time, perhaps, because time doesn't cooperate a whole lot with human beings."
The boy laughed a little, nodding his head. He went to school, he could easily understand that concept! "Time sucks."
Fenton nodded. "It does." He got from his chair and went to his son, hugging him. "I know that Joey's coming to live with us has been a great change for you, Frank," he said quietly. "But he does love us, and us him. And I know that he loves the idea of having a big brother. He tells everyone that talks to him."
Frank blinked. "He does? I never heard that."
"I can only assume that he is a bit shy of saying it in front of you. But he does say it. Perhaps...instead of trying to compete in certain things with Joey...share them with him. Like when you go play with Chet. Try not to think of it as you and Chet being friends, but as the three of you being a group of friends. Or when you and Mom are playing a game...play the game with her and Joey. And then everyone is included. Oh not all the time, of course. Everyone likes a little private time with their parents. But sometimes."
With a small sigh, Frank finally nodded. "Okay. I can try."
Fenton beamed at him. "Thank you. I'm glad."
"I just...I wish he'd quit butting in all the time! Like when I first met Chet, he just came and started talking. Or if I'm doing something, he'll come in and want to do it, too. It's like he takes everything that I'm doing and makes it his, or ours. Not just mine."
Fenton nodded understandingly. "I can see where that would frustrate you. Perhaps you can talk to him? He might simply be eager to participate; he likes to get into everything. He's very hyperactive, which doesn't help. But talk to him. Tell him, in a nice way, how some of that makes you feel. See if he doesn't calm down a bit. You may find he simply didn't realize it upset you."
After a few moments, Frank nodded. "Okay, I can do that."
"Good boy. Now let's go down and get some ice cream, hmm?"
At this suggestion, Frank brightened a bit, and they went down to gain some chocolate ice cream. Joey joined them, hot and sweaty from his adventures in the backyard, and had some too.
After that little talk, things between the new-made brothers seemed to be going better than they had. Frank turned eight, and had a birthday party in the middle of August, and they invited Chet and his family, along with another boy they had made friends with; an Italian child named Tony Prito, who had the slightest bit of an accent. All of the children had a fantastic time.
School was to start in a matter of two weeks, and the boys were taken to get their school supplies and some new clothing. Frank would be going into the third grade, and at six and a half, Joe would be going into the first.
Things were a lot better once the boys were in school. The first and third graders did nothing together, and so Frank got a little bit of a separation from Joe. Tony was in Frank's class, while Chet was in Joe's. And for a while, the boys got along with each other fine.
For a month, this truce lasted, until the end of September, when it shattered rather dramatically. Frank had joined a Cub Scout pack, and had talked excitedly about it for a very long time. Joey also wanted to be in Scouts, but was not old enough for a Cub Scout pack. He could be a Tiger Scout, which took care of the first-grade age group, but Joey did not want to be a Tiger Scout. He wanted to be in the pack with Frank. Making a spectacular display of his bull-headed stubborness, Joey was being petulant and unreasonable about the whole thing, asking why he couldn't be in Frank's pack until Frank finally lost his temper.
The two boys were standing outside of school after Friday's classes, about to walk home, when Joey began asking once more why he couldn't be in Frank's Scout pack. Frank turned and yelled. "You're too young! I already told you, dummy!" Joe's scowl, half angry, half hurt, only spurred Frank's own anger. He did not have a very quick temper, but when it did flare, it was like a powder keg. "Don't be mad at me! You're the one that keeps whining! You don't have to do everything I do, leave me alone, I don't want you with me all the time! And quit crying, it's your fault!" Frank knew as soon as he said it that he had been quite unkind, even as bratty as Joe had been, but felt no urge to take it back.
Joey's fists clenched, and tears began streaming down his face. "Fine!" he yelled. "I don't wanna be with you anyway! I don't like you! I thought you were my big brother, I guess you're not!" He kicked the older boy in the shin, and then ran off heading down the street toward home.
Frank felt a pang of guilt for having made the boy cry, but he also felt that he was justified in this outburst! He didn't want to share everything in his life! Was there something wrong with wanting some things to be his and his alone? Why wouldn't Joe leave him alone?
Glad that none of their friends were there (though several students he didn't know too well had watched the altercation), Frank fumed for several moments before stomping away from the school building.
For a half hour or so, Frank walked in the streets, trying to calm himself down and get rid of all his anger. He spent nearly the whole time ranting silently in his head about Joey and why he had to come and live with them. He would have stayed out all night, but he knew that his parents would worry if he was too late, and so he headed for their new house. He had no wish to be grounded, after all! Maybe they would let him go and vent his feeling in the woods behind their house.
That was one thing he did like about this new house. There was a huge forest right behind it, and he could go and run and explore the forest when he had permission. It was a great place for adventure and exploring games. And when he wanted to be alone, the forest seemed to be good at getting rid of the angry or sad feelings. And if he took the cell phone with him, he was allowed to go pretty far.
Yes, he decided. When he got home he would ask his parents if he could go out in the woods.
Unfortunately, he did not get the chance.
When he walked in, his father was not there, but Laura was there, watching television. When Frank walked in, she frowned. "Where's Joey?" she asked.
Frank shrugged. "I thought he went home."
"You thought...didn't you walk him home?"
"No. I got mad at him and he got mad at me, and he left like a big baby."
Laura stood up, frowning. "Frank Hardy, you know better than to leave him alone! He's only six...and he did not come home!" Frank scowled darkly but did not quite dare to tell him mother off. "All right, young man, get in the car. We need to find him." She stood up and bustled around the room, searching for her car keys.
Frank watched in the most sullen of tempers. It wasn't his fault that Joey was being a brat! He didn't tell him to stomp off without waiting for him! "It's not my fault," he sulked. "He kept being a brat, then got mad 'cuz I yelled at him!"
Laura grabbed her keys from the kitchen table and came back out, heading out the door. "How was he being a brat?"
Frank could tell that she was annoyed with him, which made him all the angrier. It wasn't fair that she was mad at him. Would she be mad at Joey, too? "He kept whining about Scouts! He kept saying 'why? why?' and I kept telling him he's too young, he's gotta be in Tiger Scouts! But he wouldn't leave me alone so I yelled at him and he stomped off!" He opened the passenger door and slammed it once he was inside the car.
"Don't slam the doors," said Laura as she got in and started the car. "And buckle up. Why did you have to yell at the boy? He's only doing it because he likes you, and wants to be with you. You should be flattered."
For a long time, Frank did not answer; he was fighting tears of frustration. That's what they always said! 'You should be flattered they like you so much. You shouldn't yell at them, they only do it because they like you.' Whether it was Joey, or a younger child who tagged along with whatever group they were with at the time! Didn't adults ever want to be alone? Didn't they ever want to have at least one thing only they did, that no one else in their family did? Didn't they want to be different, instead of having someone else doing everything they liked to do?
He did not answer his mother's comment, he only sat with his arms crossed in the passenger seat. They began cruising the streets around their home and the school, the front windows down, calling the boy's name on occasion. Frank did not call; he was too angry.
It actually took long enough to find Joey that Laura had been very close to calling the police. But as she and Frank drove onto a dead-end street, with a city park along one side of it, Laura caught a snatch of a very young voice crying. She stopped the car and told Frank to stay inside while she went to see; even if it wasn't Joey, the sound of a child's crying concerned her.
The woman headed towards the sound of the voice, crossing half the park before she could discern where the voice was coming from. As the sun set behind the trees of the park, Laura caught sight of a small figure huddled by a small stream in the park, crouching behind a large bush. It was quite dark here in the trees, and Laura had to squint to determine that it was, indeed, Joey. She said his name softly, and then again slightly louder when he didn't move.
At Laura's voice, Joey's head snapped up, revealing a dirty, tearstained face with wide, alarmed eyes. But then the look of fear was replaced by one of frantic relief, and the boy scrambled to his feet and ran to Laura, flinging his arms around her and sobbing into her clothing.
"Oh, Joey," said Laura quietly, kneeling to hug the boy. "Shhh, shh...it's all right. You're okay." It was a few moments before she realized that Joey was not just crying, he was letting loose a stream of near-frantic words, and only after a couple of moments of straining, could she understand what the boy was saying. Apparently he had thought that Frank was behind him as they headed home, but when next he turned around, there had been only an empty street. Joey had looked around for Frank before beginning to get very scared, and running from street to street, looking for either Frank or the house. He had found neither. When it began to get dark, Joey was afraid that he'd been left for good, and that no one was going to come and find him.
Laura closed her eyes and rocked the boy. "Joey," she whispered. "Joey, we would never, ever just leave you like that. I'm very sorry you got lost, and scared... Frank and I have been looking for you all afternoon." She smoothed the little boy's damp hair and drew his head back a bit so she could look at him. "Are you okay, sweetie? Did you get hurt, or anything?"
Joey shook his head, his chest hitching in the aftermath of his sobs. "N-no, I just fell once an' scraped my knees."
"Uh oh," said Laura in a light tone. "We'll have to fix that up at home, okay? C'mon, let's go back to the car." She took the boy's grimy hand and led him out of the park. Still sniffling, Joey held on tight.
The ride home was silent and tense; Joey sat in the backseat, sniffling now and then, and mom looked straight ahead as she drove home. Frank sat with his arms crossed, feeling that the whole thing was very unfair.
It was dusk when Laura pulled the car into the garage and closed the door; the light overhead switched on automatically. Everyone got out of the car, and Frank had time to smell the oil and wood and concrete of the garage before he and Joey were being herded inside.
Laura urged Joey to go on up and take a hot bath and get washed up, and he agreed, scampering up the stairs. Frank deliberately turned away so he wouldn't have to look at him.
"You are grounded, Frank Hardy. Until further notice."
Frank looked up in astonishment, his mouth agape. "Grounded?" he sputtered. "But why? Just 'cuz I yelled at him?"
"No. Because you have been mean to him almost since he came home with us. Because you yelled at him today, and mostly because you let him go off by himself. Do you have any idea how scared he was, Frank? Have you any idea?"
"But he -"
"I don't care; you are the older one, Frank. You shouldn't have let him walk off, and left him like that."
Frank stomped him foot in an expression of helpless frustration. "He stomped off! He's the one who left! Is he gonna get grounded for not staying with me?"
"No, he is not. Do you know what he said to me when I found him? He said he'd thought we had left him, and weren't going to come and get him."
Frank frowned, surprised for the moment out of his anger. That was a stupid thing to think! Why wouldn't they come get him? Maybe Frank wouldn't have wanted to go look if he had a choice, but his parents adopted the kid. Why would they just leave him?
"Do you know why he was in the orphanage?" she demanded angrily. Frank shook his head. "Because his father had died when he was three, and his mother did not want to raise a child alone. She brought Joey to the orphanage, dropped him off, and walked out of the building."
At first, Frank thought that his mother must be kidding; no mother would ever do that to their own kid, would they? He tried to imagine his own mother doing that, and had to stop before he started crying.
His shock must have shown on his face, because Laura nodded grimly. "I'm dead serious. And Joey is still very afraid of that happening again. If his own blood mother didn't want him, he wonders if maybe we will get sick of him too."
Frank scowled suddenly, resenting the jolt of guilt that was jabbing at his gut. Joey had started the whole thing! And it hadn't been Frank's intention to make Joey think he was being abandoned! "Well fine, so I made him feel bad, I didn't mean to, you know! He was the one who wouldn't leave me alone!"
Laura sighed, putting her fingers to her head. "Go on up to your room. We'll talk about this later," she finally said.
"But -"
"Now, Frank!"
Clenching his fists angrily, Frank turned and stomped as hard as he could up the stairs. Grown-ups were so unfair! And he hated when they kept interrupting him and not letting him speak! They never let kids do that! Why should grown-ups be allowed to be rude? Rude was rude, no matter who was doing it.
Feeling very wronged, he slammed the door to his room as hard as he could and flung himself on his bed. Away from those who would be witness, he finally allowed himself to cry angry tears. Angry, and a little hurt. It wasn't fair. How come Joey never got in trouble? Seething with resentment and frustration, Frank lay on his bed and thought uncharitable thoughts.
Nearly an hour later, Frank was still feeling resentful, but the edge had been taken off his rage. He looked up at the sound of someone turning his doorknob, and frowned at his mother's face, which appeared from around the door. "How come I have to knock on your door, but you can come in my room without even asking?" Frank said, his tone surly. He wasn't in the mood to be polite, and didn't care if he got in trouble for it.
To his astonishment, Laura did not get mad, only looked slightly taken aback. And then she said, "You're right, my apologies. I just wanted to talk to you. Would you rather I waited?"
For a moment, Frank was too surprised to answer, and then he shrugged. "I guess you can come in."
His mother did not look angry anymore as she came into Frank's room and sat on his bed. He scootched to the other side of it, still not forgiving enough for any kind of contact. "I decided it best to wait until we were both a little calmer," said Laura. Frank shrugged, staring at his bedsheet. "First of all, I am only grounding you to the house tomorrow."
"You're still not grounding Joey?"
"No."
Frank scowled darkly.
"Would you like to know why?"
"I know why," said Frank, standing up and walking to the other side of the room. "You like him better than me."
Now it was Laura's turn to be astounded. "What?"
"It's true!" Frank cried, his anger suddenly back in full force. "Ever since Joey came, you an' Dad don't have any time for me, an' he can do anything he wants an' never gets yelled at, but I can't! I just want him to leave me alone sometimes, but he doesn't, an' you guys don't get mad at him for it or make him stop! You just tell me that I have to let him tag along all the time! You guys don't le me be with you all the time, how come I have to with Joey?" He wiped furiously at his eyes.
For a good few moments, Laura only stood there, and then she closed her eyes. "Oh, Frank, I hadn't realized... Come here. C'mere, baby."
She stepped towards Frank with her arms out, and had she not called him "baby", he might have refused. As it was, the uncommon term of endearment made him let her hug him, as he cried.
"I'm sorry," said Laura quietly. "I hadn't realized how this all must have looked to you." She held Frank for a while, finally sitting on the bed and sort of half-pulling him onto it next to her. "Dad and I did have a reason for being a little lenient with Joey. He's in a new situation, he's had a bit of a rough childhood. But we didn't think how it would look to you. I certainly do not like either one of you more than the other. Nor do I love either of you any more than the other." She grasped his chin and raised his head. "I will speak with Joey tonight, okay? Explain to him that you sometimes need your space and that you are to be left alone when you really want to be. And I'll have you both stay home tomorrow. Perhaps you can spend some time in your room reading? A little bit of alone time?"
Red-eyed, Frank nodded his head. "Okay." It did actually sound good to him. He hadn't spent a lot of time reading as of late.
"Okay." Laura bent and kissed her son's hair and gave him another brief hug. "I'm sorry you've been feeling shot out. We'll try and fix that, okay?"
Frank nodded, and watched Laura leave his room. He suddenly felt very tired, but oddly, he felt a lot better than he had a half hour before. He wasn't glad that this whole, miserable incident happened, but he was happy at the end results. He just wished that they had been achieved another way.
He heard a knock on Joey's door, and Frank noticed that she had never knocked on Joey's door, either. Maybe adults just had to be told sometimes that they were being rude, Frank thought, not without a sense of wonder. Maybe they didn't know it at the time. Frank could not hear them talking, but was sure that Mom was talking to Joey about letting Frank be, as she had promised.
At supper, Joey looked a little bit unhappy, but he didn't say anything to Drank, and Frank returned the favor. It was just the two boys and Laura this time, as Fenton was out of town for a couple of days on the first big case of his solo career.
After the meal, Frank retired to his room to read until bedtime. He was glad of the opportunity; he had forgotten how lost he could get in a book. And that was a good thing!
Laura came and tucked him in when it was bedtime, something she did not always do. Frank was glad of it. And she knocked before she came in.
The weekend turned out a lot better than it had started. Frank spent the whole of Saturday reading in his room, and no one bothered him except for mealtimes. And on Sunday, his mother said that she'd convinced Joey to play in his room for the day. She and Frank spent the day playing board games and generally spending time together.
"I told Joey he needed to back off a bit," she said that afternoon as they played War with a deck of playing cards. "He was disappointed, and seemed fairly stubborn about it, but I insisted, and he finally agreed. I also explained to him about Cub Scouts, and how the ages worked, and told him not to get angry at you for someone else's rules."
"You did?" Frank was mildly surprised, but very pleased. "Thanks. I don't think he believed me."
"Possibly not. At any rate, he knows now. Now, I don't want you to push him away completely. I'll expect you to spend some time with him. Okay?"
Frank nodded. "I will."
"Okay." Laura ruffled the boy's hair, then looked at the cards; they had set down the same number. "Ah - it's war!"
After that hand (that secured a victory for Laura), she said it was time to start supper. Frank went into the kitchen to help, and when Joey came in and wanted to help too, Frank didn't even mind.
To top it all off, Fenton returned that night, and was greeted with a gale of enthusiasm from the two boys. He was tired, but not so that he couldn't grab the kids in a tight hug and lift them off the ground for a moment. He chuckled as Frank pretended to have the breath choked out of him.
"Did you fight bad guys?" Joey asked. "Did they fight back? Did you have a gun?"
Frank's question was a little less violent. "Did you put anyone in jail?"
"No, no, yes, and yes," Fenton said, and the boys both laughed. "Actually I can't say a whole lot about it. But yes, Frank, I did gather enough information about a certain someone to put him in jail." Despite his fatigue, Fenton was beaming. "Not bad for my first big job, eh? And now, I am starved. The airline served something that they claimed was food, but I had my doubts."
Frank giggled. "Like the school food?"
"Worse."
That was impressive! Frank and Joey followed their father into the kitchen, where husband and wife celebrated Fenton's return with a big, mushy kiss. On this, both Frank and Joey could agree.
"Euuuuu!" they cried in unison.
Laura laughed and kissed Fenton again, earning another sound of disgust.
Supper was a talkative, cheerful affair, and Frank went to bed content.