Let Your Heart Hold Fast

Chapter 15

By the time they were done playing Slap Jack, Peter was truly and completely dethroned. Neal had unusually fast reflexes for a five year old, it seemed. The last game ended with all three of them holding their stomachs from laughing so hard. It wasn't until Peter sent Neal up to take a bath afterwards that things became strange.

"Neal, it's bath time, kid," Peter said as he put the cards away.

Neal jumped off of his chair to head upstairs, but immediately froze, looking at Peter and Elizabeth with wide eyes. They had no idea what was going on, but Peter figured that it was just Neal not wanting to take a bath, even though that hadn't been a problem ever since Elizabeth had bought him new bath toys.

"Go on upstairs, Neal. I'll be there soon," Peter said sternly. Neal looked like he was about to cry, but he turned and walked upstairs, his head hanging down.

"What in the world was that all about?" Elizabeth wondered, as she watched Neal go upstairs.

"I have no idea. Lately he's been enjoying bath time, I thought. I'll go check on him, El." Peter gave his wife a quick kiss before heading upstairs to check on Neal.

Once he went into the bathroom, he found Neal standing there, completely unclothed, wrapped in a towel. Peter started the bath water, making sure to add Neal's favorite bubble bath, and he threw in a couple of Neal's new bath toys before helping the boy into the tub.

Neal usually played wildly in the tub, splashing water everywhere as he staged battles and subsequent rescue operations with his boats, so Peter was surprised when the boy just sat in the water and waited for Peter to wash his hair. After he was done, Peter helped him out of the tub, dried him off and watched him get into his pajamas and brush his teeth. The whole time Neal was quiet and Peter had to admit that he missed the little boy's near constant chatter. A quiet Neal was an unsettling image.

Once Neal was all done in the bathroom, Peter followed him into his bedroom, surprised that he went directly to his bed, instead of picking out a book like he did every night. "Don't you want me to read you a story tonight, Neal?" he asked.

"I just want to go to sleep, Peter," Neal answered, without looking at Peter.

"Are you feeling okay, bud? Elizabeth will be here in a few minutes. She can check you out, if you're feeling sick."

Neal didn't answer as he rolled on his side, his back to Peter. Peter didn't know what to do, so he just said a quiet goodnight before walking out the door.

Minutes later, Elizabeth joined him in their bedroom, a look of confusion on her face. "I have no idea what's wrong with him, hon. He doesn't have a fever and he said he didn't feel bad, but he's acting strange. When I kissed him, he just laid there, instead of throwing his arms around my neck like he usually does. He didn't even say goodnight to me, Peter."

"Maybe he's just tired, El. Let's just see how he is after a good night's sleep."

Elizabeth didn't look convinced, but she knew that there really wasn't much she could do at the moment.

The next morning, Peter and Elizabeth were disappointed to see that Neal was still acting strangely. Elizabeth had made French toast, one of Neal's favorite breakfasts, but he did little more that pick at it. It wasn't until she went back into the kitchen to make Peter more French toast that something happened to make them understand what was going on with Neal.

Neal had just finished drinking his milk and wanted more. Reaching across the table, he lifted the pitcher of milk, but unfortunately it was too heavy for him. Peter, who was reading a newspaper and not really paying attention to what Neal was doing, threw his paper down when he heard the pitcher drop to the table. To Neal's horror the pitcher broke, spilling milk all over the table and all over Peter's pants.

"Neal! What the hell are you doing?! I told you just yesterday not to try to pour your own milk, didn't I?! Now, look what you've done!"

Neal immediately started crying and before Peter knew what was happening, he had jumped out of his chair and crawled under the table. Elizabeth came running out of the kitchen after hearing Peter yelling and Neal crying. "What happened?! Peter, why is Neal under the table?"

By this time, Peter was standing up, cleaning off his pants with a napkin. "He spilled the milk all over me, El. I told him yesterday that he couldn't pour his own milk, but he tried to do it anyway and he dropped the pitcher! Now, I'm going to have to change my clothes."

"Peter, it's just milk. And it was an accident," Elizabeth said.

Without another word, Peter walked upstairs to change his clothes. Elizabeth bent down and looked under the table, her heart breaking at the sight of the tears streaming down Neal's face. "Neal, it's okay, sweetie. It's just milk. Can you come out from there?"

"I don't want to, Lizbef," Neal whispered.

Sighing in frustration at the way her husband had handled things, Elizabeth got down on her hands and knees and crawled under the table. Once she was there, she pulled Neal quickly into her arms. "Sweetie, it's okay," she said, trying to reassure the trembling boy.

"No, it's not, Lizbef," Neal cried. "Peter's mad at me and he's going to spank me!"

"He's not going to spank you, Neal."

"Promise, Lizbef?"

Elizabeth looked at the little boy, his big blue eyes full of tears, and his lower lip trembling. "I promise, sweetie. Now, can we get out from under the table? My knees are killing me."

Neal climbed out from under the table, and then helped Elizabeth to her feet as he looked around nervously to see where Peter was. A few seconds later, he heard Peter coming down the stairs and he quickly hid behind Elizabeth.

Peter entered the dining room to find a troubled Elizabeth standing there with Neal peeking around her leg. "El?"

"Peter, Neal thinks you're going to spank him because he spilled the milk." Elizabeth looked at her husband closely, trying to send him a message without coming out and saying it. Neal was afraid of him. When Peter didn't seem to understand, she just came out and said it. "He's afraid of how angry you are with him, Peter."

Peter's heart sank at the thought that Neal was afraid of him. Looking straight at the boy, who was still hiding behind Elizabeth's leg, he apologized. "Hey, bud….I'm sorry for yelling at you, okay? I was just upset that the milk spilled all over me, that's all. And I just told you yesterday to ask for help with that, remember?"

Neal edged his way out a bit from Elizabeth's back, still hanging onto her skirt. "I'm s-sorry, Peter. I didn't mean to spill the milk. And I forgot I wasn't supposed to do it myself. Sometimes my brain gets full and I forget stuff."

"Well, then….it seems you need to work on remembering stuff better and I need to work on not getting upset over spilled milk, right?"

Neal edged out to Elizabeth's side, grabbing her hand with both of his and burying his face into her arm, before looking again at Peter. "Are you still mad at me, Peter?" he asked hesitantly.

"No, Neal. I'm not mad. And I really am sorry for yelling at you, little man. Do you forgive me?"

Neal suddenly ran to Peter, throwing his arms around his neck. "I forgive you, Peter." Neal leaned in closer to Peter and whispered in his ear. "Don't worry, Peter….I won't tell Lizbef that you said a bad word, okay?"

Peter laughed. "Thanks, Neal. I appreciate that!

That evening, Peter and Elizabeth sat down with Neal and finally got him to talk about what had happened when he was with the Miller's. Neal told them several stories of how William would punish him by spanking him, slapping him, and even pulling him around by his hair for even the tiniest bit of misbehavior. Elizabeth had, of course, discovered bruises on Neal's arm when she first met him, presumably left by William Miller, even though Neal explained that he had fallen at school.

By the time they were done talking, the three of them were physically and emotionally exhausted. Peter and Elizabeth were relieved to know the extent of William's treatment of Neal, and Neal was relieved to find out that Peter would never spank him. After the day's events, Peter and Elizabeth realized that spanking was definitely not a disciplinary option for Neal. Just the thought of it had sent the poor kid scrambling to hide under the table. And they also figured that Neal's strange behavior the night before was probably due to the fact that he thought that Peter would spank him for some perceived wrongdoing. They would obviously have to come up with other ways to punish Neal's misbehavior.

Finally, Peter and Elizabeth met with the adoption lawyer and were happy to hear that they had a very good chance of adopting Neal. They had decided to wait on telling the little boy, just in case something went wrong. After starting the adoption process, they also decided that it was time for Neal to meet their families. Peter's mother and father were the first ones they invited, since they lived only a few hours away.

They arrived Friday evening, after the almost four hour drive from Ithaca, excited to finally meet the little boy they hoped would become their grandson. Neal was dressed in a shirt and tie, and was upset that Elizabeth wouldn't let him wear his fedora.

"I want to look my best, Lizbef! Please let me wear my hat!"

"Neal, we're just going to be in the house. You don't need to wear a hat in the house."

"I know I don't need to wear my hat, Lizbef," Neal argued. "But I want to wear it."

"Neal," Peter cut in. "Elizabeth said no, so the answer is no."

Before Neal could say or do anything, the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of their visitors. Neal immediately hid behind Elizabeth, as Peter answered the door. Neal listened closely as Peter greeted his parents, trying to figure out if they sounded mean or nice. Before he could make up his mind, Peter led them into the living room.

Neal looked shyly up at the two new adults, wishing that he had his fedora on. Whenever he wore his fedora he felt sophisticated and suave, just like Dean Martin. Without it, he just felt like a little kid.

Peter walked over and placed his hand on the top of Neal's head. "Neal, this is my mother, Nancy, and my father, Richard. Mom, Dad…this is Neal."

Nancy Burke stepped forward and bent down in front of Neal. "I'm so glad to finally meet you, Neal. You're just as adorable as Elizabeth said you were."

Neal smiled up at her, pouring on the charm. "Lizbef says that all the time," he answered as he rolled his eyes dramatically, making Nancy laugh.

"You didn't have to get all dressed up just for us, dear," Nancy said.

"I didn't. I always dress like this. Lizbef says it makes me look sophissicated and swab."

"It sure does, Neal," Nancy answered. "Now, if we could only get Richard and Peter to take lessons from you….."

Neal giggled at that. "Peter has ugly ties," he whispered conspiratorially. "But, don't tell him I said that. He thinks they look good."

Just as Nancy started to say something, Richard Burke stepped forward. "Hey, there, Neal…..I'm Richard. It's nice to meet you, son.

Neal inched closer to Peter, who was still standing next to him. "Hi," he said in a small voice.

Richard looked up at Peter, obviously wondering why Neal suddenly seemed warier. Peter just shrugged his shoulders, not really understanding himself what was going through the little boy's mind. Neal had heard Peter talk about his parents several times, so Peter was surprised that he was acting so timid with his father. He figured they would just need to get to know each other better.

Dinner was an interesting affair, with Neal talking Nancy's ear off, but clamming up whenever Richard said anything to him. They all noticed, though, the frequent looks Neal sent toward Richard. No one said anything, hoping that with time, Neal would realize that there wasn't anything to be afraid of with Richard.

After dinner was over, Elizabeth told Neal it was time to go up and take a bath, but Neal didn't want to. He wanted to stay and talk with Nancy, instead. When Elizabeth told him the second time, with an even firmer voice, Neal still hadn't moved. Finally, Peter spoke up, getting Neal's attention immediately with the sternness in his voice.

"Neal! Elizabeth told you it was time for your bath, little man, so get going."

"I want to stay and talk to Nan!" Neal whined.

"This isn't up for discussion, Neal. Let's go get your bath done and then you can come back down and talk to Nan. She isn't going anywhere."

Neal looked mournfully at Nan before climbing down from his chair. "You promise you won't leave?" Neal asked her. "I want to draw you a picture."

"I wouldn't miss that for the world, Neal. I promise I'll be right here when you're done."

With that, Neal quickly went upstairs with Peter, now anxious to get his bath done as fast as possible. Once he was in the tub, Neal kept sneaking glances at Peter, until finally Peter caught him.

"What's on your mind, bud? You look like you want to ask me something."

Neal played with one of his boats for a minute before finally answering. "Peter, do you ever get disbedient sometimes?" he asked with a serious look on his face.

"What do you mean, Neal? Are you asking if I misbehave sometimes?"

Neal nodded at that.

"Well, I guess everyone misbehaves every once in a while, bud. Sometimes I leave my socks on the floor and Elizabeth gets mad at me, remember? And sometimes I might get a ticket for driving too fast or something." Peter wondered what was going through Neal's mind with these questions. "What made you ask that, Neal?"

Neal was quiet for several long seconds, as if he was trying to get his thoughts together. Finally, he looked up at Peter in concern. "Peter, your daddy won't spank you if you get disbedient, will he?"

Peter couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him. "Is that what this is all about? You're worried that my dad might spank me?"

Neal nodded his head solemnly. "Maybe you should try really, really hard to not be disbedient, Peter, okay?"

"Neal….buddy….my dad's not going to spank me, okay? I'm a grown man, remember? And he won't spank you, either, okay? You don't have anything to worry about. Now, let's get you out of the tub, so you can get back downstairs and charm the pants off of everyone again."

Neal looked up at Peter, wide-eyed. "I didn't charm the pants off of anyone, Peter. That's weird!"

By the end of the weekend, Neal had Richard and Nancy Burke wrapped around his little finger. Once he was reassured that Richard wasn't going to spank either him or Peter, he set about charming the pants off of him, just like Peter said. Richard was blown away by how smart and intuitive Neal was in everything he did. Nancy was amazed at Neal's artistic abilities, and it wasn't long before she had a folder full of drawings that Neal had done just for her.

As they were saying goodnight to their newest grandson on the first night of their visit, Nancy told Neal that he could call her Grandma Nan, like the rest of her grandkids. Neal had a his own idea, though, and decided to call her Nana Nan, instead. Richard told Neal to call him Papa or Papi. Neal chose Papa. For the first time that he could remember, Neal had grandparents, and he loved it.

The weekend visit was going great for everyone. They spent each evening playing different games and taking short walks with Satchmo. On Saturday, they went to several different museums, much to Neal's delight. Peter was sure to keep a close eye on Neal the entire time they were out in public, making sure that someone was holding his hand the entire time. He, of course, had his eyes peeled for any strange acting people in the same vicinity, too.

Sunday evening the world stopped turning for the Burkes. Elizabeth, Nancy and Neal left the house to drive to a bakery a few miles away. Richard and Nancy were planning on leaving early the next morning to beat morning traffic, so Elizabeth thought that she would grab some pastries for breakfast, instead of having to cook so early in the morning. Peter offered to go, but he and Richard were watching some game on television, prompting Elizabeth to go, instead. Nancy offered to go with her, and of course, wherever Nana Nan went, Neal went, too. As they were leaving, Peter reminded Elizabeth to make sure she locked the car doors.

They were on the way back from the bakery when everything in Elizabeth's world fell apart. Neal was sitting in his booster seat in the back, happily eating a chocolate doughnut, as he listened to Nancy tell a story about Peter's childhood. Elizabeth had a huge smile on her face, as she imagined Peter as a five year old boy, trying to learn how to swim. She was thinking that maybe they should enroll Neal in some swimming lessons, when they were suddenly rear-ended by another car.

The collision sent them flying forward, but fortunately, Elizabeth was able to control her car. She was trying to pull over to the side of the road, still thinking that it was just a strange accident, when the other car crashed into them again, hitting them in the side. With the side impact, she lost complete control of the car and to her horror, the car flipped over several times before rolling down a steep embankment.

The last thought she had before losing consciousness was of how desperately she wished she had left Neal at home.

Author's note: Thank you all for your amazing reviews for the last chapter. As you can tell, I've decided that in light of the abuse heaped on Neal by the Miller's, Peter will not be spanking Neal for his misbehavior. It just doesn't seem appropriate at this time. Thank you so much to those of you who, even though you're against the spanking of children, told me that you would still read my story, if I decided to include it. That's awesome.

This chapter was really hard to write, for some reason, and I'm really not satisfied with it. I hope it makes sense to you all and doesn't seem too disjointed. I wrote most of it at times that I should have been sleeping, lol.

Anyway, thanks for reading.