Theo Decker and Mrs. Barbour (Samantha)

Theo Decker and Mrs. Barbour (Samantha) share a relationship that begins with Theo's sudden placement in her household after his mother's death in the museum bombing and evolves over more than a decade into a deep, mutual bond of care and belonging, with Mrs. Barbour becoming a surrogate mother figure and Theo, in turn, helping to revive her from a profound grief after the deaths of her husband and son.

Emergency Placement and Early Distance

On the morning after the bombing, social workers brought the orphaned thirteen-year-old Theo to the Barbours' Park Avenue apartment. It was Mr. Barbour who opened the door, but Mrs. Barbour who took charge, greeting the social workers in a floor-sweeping housecoat and directing Theo to Platt's room. Her reserve, which had sometimes made Theo uncomfortable in the past, was a comfort that morning; he was grateful for her sangfroid. She managed the situation with quiet authority, shielding him from the rougher aspects of Social Services machinery and, he was fairly sure, the press. She put a stop to Enrique's relentless interrogations about Theo's father's whereabouts, telling the social worker in a controlled monotone that the man clearly did not want to be found. Despite her efficiency, the household was not a warm one. Theo felt like a burden, constantly drawing unwanted attention by having to ask for every little item. Kitsey and Toddy resented his presence, and Mrs. Barbour, though never unkind, maintained a cool, impersonal distance. She broke up visits from his mother's friends after forty-five minutes, and when she took him to the emergency room for his headache, she noted coolly that no one had thought to ask if he was hurt. The emotional chasm was starkly illustrated when, after his father returned and took him to Las Vegas, Mrs. Barbour gave him a quick, ladies-who-lunch air kiss and said, "Toodle-oo, you all." She did not seem particularly upset to see the last of him.

A Distant Connection and a Return

During his years in Las Vegas, Theo maintained a thin thread of contact with Mrs. Barbour. She dutifully answered his paper letters with a line or two on her monogrammed correspondence cards, always asking how he was and closing with "thinking about you," but there was never any "we miss you" or "we wish we could see you." After his father's death, Theo fled back to New York and eventually found his way to Hobie's house. Years later, a chance encounter with Platt on the street led him back to the Barbour apartment. He found Mrs. Barbour much changed. She was propped in her bed, pale and without lipstick, her silver-blonde hair loose and uncombed. She had two Yorkshire terriers, Ting-a-Ling and Clementine, and spent her days doing needlework. She no longer went out to the big dinners and events that had once defined her life. When Theo sat beside her, she took his hand and told him she was so glad he had come. She recalled how, when he was a child, she used to catch him studying her paintings, and how he would always go straight to the very best ones. She confessed that she had always thought of him as one of her very own, even when he was a little boy. This remark shocked and touched Theo deeply.

A New Bond and Mutual Rescue

The news of Theo's engagement to Kitsey visibly brightened and straightened Mrs. Barbour. She began stirring about the apartment, put on a bit of lipstick, and her most commonplace interactions with Theo were colored with a steady, peaceful light. She confided in him that she never thought she would be quite so happy ever again, because he had always been so good to Andy, bolstering him and improving his confidence. She said Andy was absolutely his best self with Theo, always. Theo, in turn, found that his presence could make her happy, a realization that nourished channels of his heart which had stood scraped dry for years. When he thought of killing himself during his darkest moments in Amsterdam, it was Mrs. Barbour he could not bear to do it to. The relationship had become one of mutual rescue: she had given him a home and a sense of family when he had none, and he, by marrying her daughter and simply being present, had given her a reason to re-engage with life after the devastating loss of her husband and son. The bond was sealed by a shared history of loss and a quiet, unspoken understanding that they were, in a very real sense, each other's family.