Chapter 2: Making Friends

"Van! Come on! The bus is going to be here soon and you haven't eaten yet!" I yelled up the stairs.

This all seemed strangely familiar, except our younger son's response was very different from his brother's when he had started kindergarten three years earlier.

I looked to the top of the stairs where I could see Van standing with his shoulders slumped and trying not to cry. "Do I have to go, Mommy? Can I stay here with you? Please, don't make me..." Our distraught boy collapsed in a heap and started to sob.

Darren came out of the kitchen with Harry close behind. I directed my husband's attention to Van, and we looked at each other. Darren grabbed my hand for mutual support and we started up the stairs. I could swear that a smirk passed over our third grader's face before he returned to the kitchen to finish his breakfast, but I had more urgent issues to deal with at that moment.

We sat on either side of Van and rubbed his back until he was only taking in shivering breaths. "Sweetie..." I started, but couldn't continue when he looked up at me with my own hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Darren, realizing that I was momentarily overwhelmed, started gently, "Van, honey, we've talked about this. You visited your class, you met your teacher, you know that you'll be home this afternoon. Can you tell us what's got you so upset?"

Van leaned into his father, shakily whispering, "No one'll like me. Won't have any friends."

Our eyes locked above our son's head. This had never come up before. We had thought Van's fear of school was about being away from us all day instead of the half-day of preschool he was used to, not about being with different kids. I gave Darren a questioning look, and he nodded encouragingly. This was my area of expertise.

"Van, sweetie, can you look at me?" He slowly raised his head until our eyes met again.

"Do you remember when we talked about how you will make new friends at school?" He nodded.

"Mrs. Foster will have games and activities to give everyone a chance to get to know each other. You might not make friends by the end of today, but you'll know everyone's name. Tomorrow and the days after that when you go back, you'll get to know them a bit more, and then soon, there will be a few kids that you hang out with at lunch and recess because you like to do the same things. And those will be your friends."

With a quivering lip, Van asked plaintively, "Promise, Mommy?"

"I swear, honey."

Van considered that for a minute, and then a small smile formed on his lips before he nodded again. "Okay," he said with a determined expression. "I'm ready." He stood, hugging his father and then me. Our eyes met over our son's shoulder and Darren smiled at me, mouthing, "I love you so much." With our boy in my arms, I mouthed back, "I love you more."

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Darren was at his office downtown, and Harry's bus got home about 30 minutes before Van's, so I decided to take advantage of us being alone to have a conversation with my older son about his attitude toward his brother. Harry was delightful in every other way, but his lack of interest in Van was escalating to outright disdain, and I wasn't sure why.

Harry came into the kitchen for our usual post-school debriefing. We both enjoyed reviewing what he had done during the day, and he knew that I understood his need to discuss his plans for the days to come.

"Hey, Mom," he said as he gave me a kiss and sat on a stool next to me, grabbing a home-made cookie and the glass of chocolate milk I had prepared.

"Hi, honey. How was the first day of third grade?"

"Good. Mrs. Cash has us arranged alphabetically - I love that - so I'm sitting in front of Zachary again..."

Before I could give him the usual speech about getting into mischief with his best friend, he interrupted me, "You don't have to tell me, Mom! Mrs. Cash heard somewhere," he paused to give me a knowing grin, "that we are buddies and warned us that this was our privilege to lose. Not much else happened, though...just first day getting organized stuff."

"Sounds good, Harry." I paused, unsure of how to broach the topic that I knew we needed to talk about.

"Honey, I need to discuss something...not-so-good with you."

An interested expression settled on his face before he echoed his father's usual reply, "Anything, Mom."

"Harry...I am...concerned by your reaction to Van being so upset this morning."

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"When Dad and I went up to comfort him, I could swear that I saw a smirk on your face. Almost like, you were...enjoying his distress. Please tell me that I imagined it, Harry."

He looked down at the counter uncomfortably, then back up at me. "You didn't, Mom."

"I appreciate your honesty, but can you tell me why you would take pleasure in Van's being upset? You are such a sweet boy to everyone else, so polite, and...nice...but, when it comes to your brother..."

"Mom...it's hard for me to explain...Van is so...TOUCHY! He cries about everything... it just BUGS me! And, sometimes, I can't help thinking it's...funny how little it takes to...upset him."

I didn't know how to respond. Harry had no sympathy for how hard it was for Van to adjust to new situations. How did this happen?

"Harry...you must realize that because Van is three years younger than you, he is encountering a lot more new experiences than you are, and he deserves our patience and understanding as he gets used to them."

Harry nodded slightly, then said, "But, Mom, I wasn't like that when I was his age. I loved trying new things...he's such a WHINER!"

"Harry, not only is Van younger than you, he's different than you. I was a lot like Van when I was little. I didn't react well to new situations and..."

"But, Mom, what about our 'low thrill threshold?'" Harry interrupted.

"I wasn't always as brave as I am now, Harry. Dad had a lot to do with that, and you know that I'm still not a big fan of surprises. I've learned to deal with them over the years, but Van is only five. He hasn't figured out the best ways to handle new things yet. And it certainly doesn't help that he doesn't have his WHOLE family behind him, honey."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Harry whispered. "I promise I'll be nicer to Van."

"That's all I'm asking for. Just remember that the more we support him, the stronger he'll feel, and hopefully, the less upset he'll get about this stuff." I leaned over to kiss my oldest on the cheek.

I looked at the clock and said, "Speaking of which, I've got to go out to meet Van."

Harry jumped up and said, "Let me, Mom!"

Trying to hide my surprise, I nodded, and said, "That would be great, honey," and watched my older son run toward the front door to hopefully start really connecting with his brother.