When Glass Shatters

by J. P. Grider

  Limping into the kitchen to retrieve a Band-Aid, she tossed the broken piece of glass into the garbage, then folded the letter she was still holding and stuck it in the purse she had sitting on the counter. After she covered her foot, Lorraine took out her phone and called Noah. Who didn’t answer. “Noah, it’s Lorraine. I, uh, kind of need your help, and so, yeah, if you can call me, I could use your advice. Thanks.”

  Norah walked in as Lorraine finished her message. “What’s going on?” Norah asked, plopping her backpack down.

  Lorraine shook her head. “Did you know about Carter?”

  “About?”

  “His suspension?”

  Norah sighed. “So, it’s true?”

  “It’s true. Did you hear why?”

  “They found pot on him?”

  “While he was smoking it in the boys’ room. So, I guess it’s not just when he’s with the older kids.”

  “Guess not.”

  “I can’t believe they found him smoking it.”

  “How stupid.”

  “You’re telling me. What the heck, Norah? How am I gonna deal with this?”

  Norah shrugged.

  Lorraine shrugged.

  And the night went quietly, painstakingly so, on, until it was time for sleep.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  One more move. One Half-Nelson and the match was over. Then, Noah just had to wait to pin his next two opponents and the season was over. He could let the match linger, allow the opponent to gain confidence before being taken down, but Noah wasn’t in the mood to make nice. So, he wrapped up his opponent’s neck and rolled him over onto his back. Three seconds later, the match was over, and he’d won the second round.

  Back on the bench, he pulled on his sweats and checked his phone. Five missed calls and three texts from Lorraine. He considered tucking his phone away again and not reading them, but his chest pulled, and he decided to open the texts.

  She was HERE?

  He stepped away from the bench and called her from a private corner. “Lorraine? What the hell? You’re here?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t know the cheapest ticket was, like, two hundred dollars. I’m down in Penn Station.”

  “Penn Sta...did you take the train?”

  “I did. I thought it’d be easier than driving to Madison Square Garden.”

  “Jesus Christ. Is Norah okay?”

  “Yeah. Yes. She’s okay.”

  “Then, what? Why are you here?” Noah wiped the sweat from his temple. He’d barely broke out in a sweat on the mat, but one conversation with Lorraine and he was a hot mess.

  “You didn’t return my call the past two days, so I—”

  “It didn’t sound like an emergency,” he interrupted. “Was it an emergency?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Kind of.”

  “You said you wanted my advice. That doesn’t sound like an emergency to me.”

  “Well, it is.”

  “Obviously, since you traveled all the way into the city to find me. Geez. Give me a couple of minutes. Where in Penn Station are you?”

  “I’m at a table outside Tim Hortons.”

  “Fine. I’ll be right there.”

  Six minutes later, and seated at the edge of a bistro stool, Lorraine was tapping the heel of her foot about a hundred miles per hour. When she caught Noah walking toward her, she stopped tapping and stood.

  “That was quick,” she told him.

  “Not one for dilly-dallying. So, what’s going on, Lorraine?” His hand gravitated to her upper arm as he intuitively leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but he quickly pulled away, leaving them in an awkward stare.

  “Uh, um.” Lorraine seemed as flustered as he felt.

  He motioned for her to take her seat, and he took the one next to her. “So, what? What was so important that—”

  “Carter was suspended for smoking pot.”

  He sat back. “Oh. Wait. Isn’t he twelve? Where is he getting pot?”

  “I don’t know. He won’t talk to me.”

  Noah ran a hand over the side of his neck. “What do you want me to do? I mean, that’s why you’re here, right? To ask me to do something about this?” Noah tried to remain indifferent. He didn’t want her to know that her presence alone was affecting him in ways he wasn’t usually affected.

  “Kind of.” Lorraine looked defeated. Her tired eyes sported dark circles, though Noah couldn’t be sure if it was from lack of rest or her fading bruises. Her nose definitely calmed down some, so it was hard to tell. “I wanna know what to do. He won’t listen to anything I say. I kept Norah home from school to make sure he didn’t leave the house, but heck, he’s not gonna listen to her. He just ignores me. Goes out. Does what he wants. He—”

  “Lorraine. You’re rambling. I have no idea what to do.”

  “Well, Norah said when your mother died you—”

  “Norah told you?” He felt his jaw clench, and his fingers instinctively went to his heartbeat tattoo.

  “No. Well, not really. She said you went through something similar, so I thought you’d know how to help.”

  Noah shook his head, the sudden anger dissipating since finding out Norah did not spill his secret. “What are you asking of me?”

  “I don’t know.” She fumbled through her purse and took out a folded piece of paper. “But I also got this.” Lorraine handed the paper to Noah. While Noah opened it, she said, “The lawyer said there’s not much we can do unless an immediate family member petitions for her.”

  As Noah read the letter, the air left his lungs.

  “I don’t know what to do.”

  He took a few moments to process before saying, “Did you tell her?”

  “No.”

  “Well.” Noah paused. What the hell was he supposed to do now? “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

  “Oh.” Lorraine looked shocked. “Maybe fight it? Petition for custody? I know Norah doesn’t want to move. I mean, she can’t even move to Florida with my grandmother now. If that’s what we were gonna do. I don’t know. We hadn’t decided, but now she won’t even be able to do that if your Aunt is asking for her. I mean, your Aunt Margaret claims since no one is taking custody of Norah, that she should, and—”

  “Lorraine. You’re rambling again. And by the way, how did you know I was here?”

  “Well, I kind of looked up the Duke website and, well, then the wrestling schedule, and I couldn’t sleep the past two days and you weren’t answering my call and—”

  “Stop.” Noah held out a hand. “You found me. But I don’t know how I can help anyway. I’m in the middle of the NC double As, Lorraine. I have two more years of college to go. You can’t just expect me to—” he halted. She should be able to expect him to step up and take care of his sister, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not at this particular time in his life.

  Lorraine just stared at him. Her tired eyes, her fading bruised, tired eyes, big and hazel, pleading into his to step up and be a man. “Lorraine?”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I have two more matches this weekend, and I have to be ready for them. I’m not trying to be an asshole, Rain, I just, you can’t just spring this news on me and expect me to drop everything. I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry’s not gonna help Norah.” She stood, set her purse on her shoulder, and left him standing alone in front of Tim Hortons.

  Noah watched Lorraine walk away, and after he could no longer see her, he looked down at the paper in his hand. Folding it up and putting it in his front pocket, Noah stood dumbfounded in the center of Penn Station, his hand still poised on the letter in the pocket, his head far from the mat.

  ***

  Norah was in the living room when Lorraine got in. “He hasn’t come out of his room all day. How does he not have to pee?”

  “Shoot.” Lorraine darted right up to Carter’s room. Empty. “Oh man.” Defeated, she moped back downstairs. “He climbed out the window.”
r />   Norah hopped up. “Oh God, Rain, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he—”

  “Not your fault. I should have realized.”

  “So, did you find my brother?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did he say to do about Carter? Did he help?”

  Lorraine shook her head. “No,” she sighed. “He had no idea what I should do.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought he’d give you some idea. I’m sorry.”

  “Norah, stop apologizing. It’s not your fault. None of this is...What the heck?” Lorraine moved closer to the window. A New York City cab pulled up in front of their house. Norah joined her at the window and pulled back the lace curtains. Lorraine scrunched her brow. “Is that?”

  “My brother?” Norah finished.

  Noah strode up the sidewalk and hit the porch in about six steps. The girls had the door open before he’d even reached it. He stood there, his face blank, his duffel hanging at his side, his shoulders slouched, looking beaten. “Well. I’m here.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Where does he normally hang out?” Noah asked Norah when they told him Carter had escaped.

  “There’s a park not too far from here.”

  “Show me the way,” he told his sister. To Lorraine, he said, “You stay here. He’ll probably be more likely to talk if you’re not here.”

  “And he’ll talk with Norah there?”

  He looked at Norah. “Can you tell me how to get there without coming?”

  Norah nodded. “Yeah.”

  On foot, it took him five minutes to get to the park where four boys, all taller and broader and much hairier than Carter, were shooting hoops. The reek of cannabis thick in the air. Noah, not wanting to embarrass Carter, as Brick had done to him many times in the course of his adolescent life, stood, hands in pockets, at side court. He didn’t make a move until Carter spotted him. Then, he called him over by waving two fingers backward in Noah’s direction.

  Carter obeyed. “What’re you doin’ here?”

  His face straight, his tone firm, his words uniform, Noah declared authoritatively, “I came to get you.”

  “Oh.” Carter turned around. “See you guys later.”

  Not one of them stopped shooting to acknowledge the younger boy. It didn’t pass by Noah that Carter frowned.

  On the walk back home, Noah started. “What the hell you doin’ with those guys?”

  Carter shrugged.

  “It doesn’t look like they even care whether you hang or not.” Noah elbowed Carter in the arm. “They aren’t your friends.”

  Carter said nothing.

  “So, I hear you’re smoking pot now.”

  “My sister has a big mouth.”

  “You’re twelve, Carter. You shouldn’t even know where to get the shit. Come on. You’re gonna screw up your whole life.”

  Carter scoffed. “Like it ain’t already screwed up.”

  “Yeah. Life did do a number on you, kid. I gotta agree. But pot? Not the answer.”

  “It’s just pot.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re twelve. Your school have a wrestling team?”

  “Wrestling?”

  “Yeah. You know, guys wear tights and roll around on a big blue mat.”

  “I know what wrestling is.”

  “Yeah? Well, I can teach you how. It works.”

  “Works?”

  “You think I don’t get angry at the world for the shit-hand it dealt me? I wrestle. Taking down another guy. Pinning him to that mat. Powerful. A lot bigger high than smoking that shit, I tell you that.”

  Carter nodded.

  Noah hoped he was getting through.

  “Carter. It gets better. Takes a while, but it does get easier to accept and move on.” Noah wasn’t exactly sure that was the truth, but what was he going to tell the kid—that the pain of losing the only woman who’d ever love him unconditionally would never go away? That it would fester on his heart like an old infection and leave scars so deep he’d never be normal again? No. No twelve year old needs to hear that.

  The two orphaned boys strolled quietly home, where Lorraine and Norah were fixing baked ziti pizza for dinner.

  When Noah raised his eyebrows at the concoction in front of the girls, Lorraine said, “I had a leftover pizza that nobody ate and left-over baked-ziti that we barely ate. I thought I’d put it together and add more cheese.”

  Noah crinkled his forehead. Baked ziti pizza?

  “You can always get take-out.” Lorraine answered in response, but Noah noticed her eyeing Carter.

  “Carter’s eating with us. Right, Carter?” Noah wanted to make sure Carter stayed put. He knew it’d be important to Lorraine. And for some reason—a reason he could not comprehend—he wanted to make Lorraine happy.

  Carter nodded, pulled a Coke from the refrigerator, and sat at the table, then proceeded to glue his eyes, and fingers, to his phone.

  “Thank you,” Lorraine whispered when Noah reached for a piece of mozzarella.

  Noah didn’t acknowledge it. He took another piece of cheese and grabbed himself a Coke. “So, Norah. How’s school going for you?” Noah sat down, and Norah stopped helping Lorraine to sit with her brother.

  “It’s okay.”

  Noah thought about her response. Normally, he’d let “It’s okay,” suffice, but considering the decline Carter so rapidly made, maybe there was a good chance Norah would follow. “Are you able to concentrate on school work?”

  She shrugged.

  “Everything’s going to work, guys,” he said to both Norah and Carter. “I’m here to help. We’ll get things back to normal. Don’t worry.”

  They laughed at him.

  “What?”

  “Normal?” Carter asked.

  “New normal,” Noah explained.

  “You’re here to stay, No?” his sister asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Something clanged and thumped behind him.

  “You’re staying?” Lorraine asked as he turned toward the noise.

  Lorraine had dropped her metal bowl of ziti and her knife.

  “You. Are. A klutz.” He got up and helped her clean up the scattered ziti.

  “You’re really staying?” she asked in whisper, both of them on their knees.

  “What? You’re going to kick me out?” He chuckled.

  “No.” She wiped her forehead, leaving a finger-width strip of red sauce across it. “Thank you.” She looked back at the kids and then at him.

  He reached for a paper towel, then wiped the sauce off her face.

  “Oh,” she said, taking the towel from him and finishing the job herself.

  “You were right. I need to help Norah. I’m going to apply for guardianship,” he whispered. “This way, Margaret doesn’t need to take her.”

  Lorraine sat back on her heels and sighed.

  Noah swore he saw relief in her eyes...and tears. Her eyes were bubbling, and he knew they were bubbles of consolation.

  “Thank you,” she mouthed.

  This time, he acknowledged her gratitude with what he hoped was a smile. “You’re welcome.”

  Lorraine washed up at the sink, while Noah went into the bathroom to wash his hands. Just before re-entering the kitchen, he heard Carter say, “Jefferson has a wrestling team, right, Norah?”

  “Yeah. My friend Robert wrestles.”

  Noah refrained from pumping his hand high in the air, but he felt proud. Maybe flushing his own wrestling career down the toilet by leaving right in the middle of the NCAA Championship wouldn’t be a total catastrophe.

  Maybe.

  He hadn’t let it sink in quite yet.

  ***

  Lorraine scanned the dinner table. The first sit-down since her grandmother left. Thanks to Noah. Had he not come home and talked with Carter, Norah would be eating in front of the television, Carter would be in his room, and Lorraine would be sitting alone at the kitchen table feeling sad. In one day, Noah made them a family. And that was odd, b
ecause Noah was anything but a family guy. His actions continued to confuse Lorraine. Noah was rude and gruff, a self-proclaimed loner, but then he went and did stuff that completely left her in awe—like taking her out on his bike so the wind could blow away her worries; offering his arms to catch the pieces falling from her heart; coming home and making everything all right. She knew at any time, Noah could swiftly return to his brusque nature, but she wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth, or in the eyes, or wherever a person shouldn’t look a gift-horse.

  Dinner was pretty much a silent event, complete with awkward tension and careful conversation, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and Lorraine found comfort in seeing Carter eating at the table. He wasn’t even wearing his everyday frown. She tried really hard not to smile too big, but her heart was warm and she couldn’t help herself.

  Norah got up first. “I’m gonna go watch TV,” she said as she threw her paper plate in the garbage and held on to her bottle of water.

  “Yeah. Me too,” Carter added, cleaning up his dinner mess. “I’ll be in my room.”

  “Uh. Yeah. About that,” Lorraine said. “No climbing out the window.”

  His frown was back, and he glanced at Noah.

  “Is that what you did?” Noah asked, his eyebrows raised, his face muscles working hard to suppress a smile. But he reigned it in and got serious. “Not cool. You wanna go out, you ask. I’m sure your sister doesn’t have many rules, but from now on, that’s one of them.”

  Carter nodded, but kept frowning.

  “Thank you,” she said when the two of them were alone, hoping he couldn’t tell she was blushing. Something about him sticking up for her made her cheeks flush.

  “You said that already.” He was back to being his cool, indifferent self.

  “Yeah.”

  “Listen. I’m kind of beat. Is that still,” he pointed his thumb toward the back door. “Can I still sleep out there?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. It’s yours. Keys are hanging right there.” She pointed to the hook next to the back door.