Several weeks after the New Year's dance, Don sat with Nancy in the den. Mutt sat expectantly with his muzzle on Don's knee, grunting with pleasure when Don occasionally scratched his ears.
"It was the best holiday ever," Don said happily, "all of us together and getting to be with you so much."
"I wouldn't trade it for any I've ever had. I was hoping we could do it again over spring break, but daddy has that cruise to the Bahamas planned."
"That's great. Think of all the things you can see and do. But if you go, you'd better not find a new boyfriend."
Nancy laughed. "I couldn't find anyone like you anywhere."
"I hope not. I meant someone you like better."
"Don! How could I find anyone to take your place. You know I'll miss you. I wish you'd come with us. You know daddy would be happy if you did."
"No, thanks! I'd rather be home than tramping about."
"Don't you want to travel, see things?"
Don held his hand above his head. "I've had that up to here. When you don't have a home, any old place will do, just so you don't stay too long. No kidding, honey, I don't care if I never go anywhere again, unless it's with Kurt and I know home is waiting for me."
"Was it so bad for you?"
"You'll never know." He shook his head slowly. "How'd we get off on this anyway?"
"Won't you tell me?"
"Not now. I want to forget all those years."
She patted his cheek. "Poor baby. I'm sorry. I won't ask again unless you want to tell me."
"Thanks, honey. I'm glad you understand."
Doctor and Mrs. Peterson were surprised to hear laughter from the kitchen as they entered the house. Nancy was making sandwiches, Don holding a sliver of ham aloft while Mutt went through all his tricks for the treat. At last Don tossed the bit of ham into the air; Mutt scrambled on the polished tiles to catch it.
"Don, if you and Mutt make a mess of that floor, Mamie will choke both of you."
"Hi, Mrs. Peterson. He sure knows how to beg."
"I hope you haven't given him much of that ham. He's too old to take meat as rich as that."
"We haven't, mother. Just a couple of small pieces," Nancy said in quick defense.
"All right. Fix a sandwich for your father and me and I'll put the coffee on."
"We had a wonderful time New Year's, Doctor Peterson." Don said when Nancy's father joined them in the kitchen.
"We enjoyed having you and Mr. Lawrence, Don. Was he beginning to get a little edgy by the time it was over, or did I imagine it?"
"It always happens when he gets in a crowd, but he had a good time."
"I wouldn't presume to prescribe for him, but I could have given him a mild tranquilizer had he asked."
"That's okay. He took one before we left home. He's trying to get over it."
"As long as he doesn't force himself. Though I should think that if he can face a classroom full of ..." His words died in the slam of the front door.
Tommy's face was contorted with rage when he stamped into the kitchen.
"What's the matter, dear?" His mother asked.
"That bitch!"
"Thomas, you do not speak that way in front of your mother." His father reproved.
"Sorry," he mumbled. He glanced across the table at Don. "You still here, freak?"
The cup tilted in the hook, coffee splashing on the table.
"Go to your room at once," his father commanded.
As Tommy slammed from the room, his mother turned to Don who wiped frantically at the spill with his napkin. "I'm so sorry, Don. I apologize for Tommy's behavior."
"That's all right, Mrs. Peterson. I shouldn't have stayed so long."
"Nonsense. You're always welcome. Please forgive Tommy's lack of manners, if you can." Dr. Peterson added, seeing Don's stricken expression.
When Don picked up his jacket, Nancy, who had sat unbelievingly during the exchange, jumped up. "Where are you going?"
"I've got to get home. Kurt'll kill me for being so late."
"It's early. Please stay."
Don shook his head. "I'd best be underway. I don't want Kurt to worry."
Nancy grabbed her sweater and followed Don out. At the Peep, he cupped her chin in his hand, looking into her eyes. "Why does Tommy hate me?"
She was close to tears. "I don't know. I've tried and tried to find out, but he won't tell me." The tears broke as she threw her arms around him. "I love you so much, Don. Don't let him come between us."
"I won't, dearest. I've got to get going, really." He gave her a quick kiss, pulled from her embrace, and started the Peep, leaving her standing at the curb.
When he was out of sight, she fled back into the house and her father's arms. "Oh, daddy, how could Tommy call Don a freak?"
"There, there, darling. It'll be all right."
"He won't ever come back," she wailed.
"Yes, he will. It's you he comes to see, not Tommy."
"How could he? This was the first time he relaxed enough around you and mother to use his hook and you know he doesn't like to leave home. He won't ever come back, now. He ... he asked me why Tommy hated him so much." She clung to her father sobbing.
He held his daughter tightly, looking beyond her at his wife for answers she could not provide.
A wave of self-pity washed over Don as he drove. 'Damn it! Why don't things ever work out for me?' Bitter memories of past dates crowded in. Girls who rejected him because of his missing hand, and now, when everything seemed right with Nancy and her parents, it had to be her brother who had it in for him. Maybe after Tommy went back to school it would be better. His turbulent emotions made sleep slow to come after he'd let himself into the house, thankful that Kurt was asleep.
Tommy awakened when his father knocked on his door quite early the next morning and entered. He pulled the desk chair out and sat watching his son sit up in bed, using his fists to rub sleep-heavy eyes.
"What is it, dad?"
"Haven't you something to discuss with me?"
"Like what?"
"Your behavior last night was something I might have expected from a ten year-old. It was disgusting, especially that you, a pre-med student, would make such a disparaging comment to someone unfortunate enough to have to depend on a prosthesis. I would certainly expect a doctor-to-be to display more sensitivity to others than that, not to mention the language you used in front of your mother."
Tommy dropped his head. "I'm sorry, dad. I was upset."
"Do you think that excuses the way you deliberately hurt Don's feelings and the position in which you placed Nancy, your mother, and me?"
Tommy shook his head reluctantly.
"You've upset all of us, especially Nancy. She cried herself to sleep because she thinks Don will never come into this house again, not that I would blame him after the way you spoke to him. I don't know what it is you have against Don, but whatever it is, I'd like to know."
"Nothing," Tommy mumbled.
"I won't accept that. Don has gone out of his way to get to know you, but you miss no opportunity to rebuff him or make some disparaging remark about his handicap, when you know well he's very sensitive about it and quite shy. I must admit that I was surprised when I first met him, but his demeanor is above reproach and your mother and I have come to admire him as much as your sister does."
"But, dad, you know there's got to be something wrong with anybody who'd live in a place like that."
"There are a number of people who live at the beach year 'round. What do you find unusual in that?"
"It's not that. It's where they live, away from everything and behind a fence. Besides, can you imagine two men that age living together with a kid without something being funny?"
"If you're implying a homosexual relationship between Mr. Lawrence and Mr. Lindstrom, your mother and I saw nothing that would indicate anything other than a perfectly normal home when we were up there for dinner. The opportunity to talk with them both quite laid to rest any doubts I may have had. They are thoughtful intelligent people and generous to a fault. There's an abundance of love in that house, but not in the context that you have apparently chosen to use as an excuse for disliking them. Even if they were gay, it would be their personal affair," his father replied coldly.
"Then they're weak! Hiding away like that. And that coastie's got to be the weirdest of the bunch. You'd think anybody the size of him would be playing pro ball or something, but he didn't talk about anything except music or sailing. I asked about the ball game when Nancy and I went up there to get the painting and they looked at me like I was nuts. I didn't even see a TV."
"You really believe they're weak? Does it take a weak person to live outside a structured society? Is it weakness to live with yourself, not distracted by others? Is giving of yourself to someone in need a sign of weakness?"
"I don't getcha, dad."
"When he went there to live, Mr. Lawrence may have been running from the reality of his handicap, many amputees do. But obviously he's found, as John Donne's poem puts it, 'No man is an island entire unto itself.' He generously gave Don a home, adopted him, and has done his best for him. Apparently Don must have suffered terribly as a child, for any time Nancy mentions his past, he closes up, saying he wants to forget it, that his life began when Mr. Lawrence took him in. Something you wouldn't understand with the advantages you've enjoyed."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"If I were to make you stay in this house for a week without contact outside of our family, how would you feel?"
"I'm not being disrespectful, dad, but I'd go nuts. There wouldn't be any excitement."
"Yet, even when they appear happy, you accuse these people of weakness because they choose to live as they do."
"I think I see what you mean. If they can stand themselves, then they can stand others, right?"
"Something like that. I believe it was the Oracle of Delphi who said, 'Know thyself.' That's a valid adage, but one not taken seriously these days, I'm afraid. Your mother and I found Mr. Lawrence a very articulate man, well read and quite talented. Mr. Lindstrom is a gifted musician as you should know from having heard him play the Christmas Eve service, and you've seen Don's ability as an artist, despite his handicap."
"But he's a runt."
"What has his stature got to do with this? You know as well as I that most of it is inherited, but I have enough experience to surmise that he was severely undernourished as a child."
"I never thought about him being hungry."
"We don't think about hunger in this country, but it happens every day." He glanced at his watch. "I've got to get to the hospital for rounds. I'm not asking you to fawn over him, Tommy, but I am asking that you try to meet him halfway for your sister's sake."
"I don't guess he wants to see me, now."
"Were I in his place after last evening, I doubt I would be happy at the prospect, either. But I believe Don will try out of regard for Nancy, if you'll give him a chance."
"I'll try, dad. I guess it was seeing you all having a good time when my own date was a bust. I'm sorry."
"Then tell your sister; it will make her feel a lot better."