A Holland and a Fighter

by Lori L. Otto

  “Oh, no, I can handle it–”

  “I insist, Jon. And, you know, before she… um… Livvy asked me to take Edie under my wing.”

  “What? When?”

  “It was one night. She wasn’t feeling well. The night of the food fight,” she says, pointing out a detail she knows I’ll remember.

  “She was better when she came downstairs,” I recall.

  “Her headache was gone,” she confirms, “but she’d confided in me that she was worried about the pregnancy.”

  I stop rocking the baby and look at her; listen to her intently. “What?”

  “She’d told me that nothing felt normal. I don’t think it’s anything you didn’t already know. I suspected it was depression, but I don’t think she thought so.”

  “What do you mean, nothing felt normal?”

  “She said she didn’t feel healthy… or happy… she said she had a bad feeling.”

  “She said that? That she wasn’t happy?”

  “Not in general, Jon. Just that she wasn’t, I don’t know… happy in the way an expectant mother is supposed to be. Of course, she was happy with you. But she sensed something was off with the pregnancy.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me that?”

  “She asked me not to.”

  I stare at her, but her gaze doesn’t waver. She doesn’t blink.

  “Do you regret that now?” I ask her.

  She shakes her head. “No,” she whispers. “She was going to her checkups, Jon. She was taking her vitamins. She was doing everything right. Everything by the book. If there was a way to stop her death from happening, the doctors would have done it. It had nothing to do with me keeping this from you or from Trey. Nothing.

  “She needed a friend to confide in. Someone she could trust. I was that to her,” she avers. “And I offered her help. I told her I’d hook her up with my therapist if she wanted to talk to someone else… but she didn’t. She was content on handling things alone. With you.”

  “But something was off with the pregnancy and she knew it. You just said it.”

  “She sensed it. She couldn’t know. All she knew is that it was very different from her previous two pregnancies, Jon. No one could have predicted what happened. If the doctors couldn’t, there’s no way you could have.”

  We sit in silence for about ten minutes as Luca falls asleep. Tension fills the room around us, but fortunately, the baby doesn’t seem to feel it or care. I think about her request to take Edie shopping, to take my oldest daughter “under her wing.” I can’t help but feel the slightest bit of betrayal, but I know deep down she’s right. What would I have done with the information anyway? Liv and I would have had a conversation about it. My wife would have downplayed it, and all would be forgotten.

  “You wouldn’t mind taking Edie shopping?”

  “Not at all,” she says. “Maybe we could make a day out of it. We could go out to lunch. Get mani-pedis. I could give her the news when it’s just the two of us… would that be okay, or do you think Willow would be upset and feel left out?”

  “They can’t always do everything together,” I respond. “I think it’s a great idea. I’ll make sure Willow has something to do, too, and I’ll let her know she’ll be the star flower girl on your wedding day. That way you don’t have to see any sort of negative reaction, which I don’t think the bride should see. I’ll make sure to spin it into something awesome.”

  She smiles. “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Thanks. You can tell her she gets Hampton all to herself.”

  “That might make things worse. Edie teases her relentlessly about him… says he has a crush on her.”

  “I forgot. Then don’t mention that as a ‘positive.’”

  I nod and take a deep breath. “Coley, I want you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.”

  “If my girls ever confide something like that in you, like what Liv said–or anything serious, for that matter–you tell me. As adults, we have to stick together, and I need… help. I appreciate your loyalty to my wife, but I need there to be no secrets between my girls and me. Not while they’re still kids, growing up,” I tell her. “It’s something I intend to tell them, but something I need everyone to be in agreement on.

  “I don’t care what it is. I’m the parent here. Mom and Dad. I need to know what’s happening with them in all aspects of their lives.”

  “Of course, Jon. No secrets.”

  “I just want them to feel comfortable talking to me about anything. And it’ll be weird because I know Liv has had some discussions with them about periods and… it sounds like she’s talked to Edie about sex… they’ve never really come to me with questions about that. Somehow, I need for them to know it’s okay.”

  “They may never feel comfortable talking to you about those things, though, Jon. I mean–it doesn’t seem like it’s a problem for Edie, but still. You can’t force that level of comfort on a young girl.

  “But that’s why you have me and Shea and Emi and all the aunts and cousins. Sure, you’re Mom and Dad, but you don’t have to do this alone. Let us be present for some of these tough conversations. Maybe we can talk to them together… maybe they’ll be okay with that.”

  I nod my head.

  “But we really have to wait and see what they want to do. What you don’t need to do is tackle all of this and make decisions about everything in the first month. Just let things happen naturally.”

  I roll my eyes at her but smile anyway. “Damn. You give good advice.”

  “I’m in touch with feelings. It’s kind of my specialty.”

  “Hmmm…”

  “Can I hold him, now that he’s sound asleep?”

  “Sure.” I hand him over to her awaiting arm.

  “Oh, my ovaries…”

  “That’s all it took, huh?”

  She starts laughing. “He’s the cutest thing! He already has a great summer tan,” she jokes about his olive-colored skin.

  “I know. Liv had pretty strong genes.”

  “I don’t know… Willow looks a lot like you.”

  “Maybe a little,” I concede. “So, about Edie… you’re going to teach her how not to wear makeup, I hope?” I’ve always noticed that Coley rarely wears any, and I have to admit, I think she looks prettier without it because it allows her freckles to show through. Her freckles are one of her best features.

  “That’s one reason Livvy wanted my help. She didn’t want her to be 12 going on 30, or something like that,” she explains.

  “Then I’m all for it. And maybe one day when you’ve got her, I can secretly throw away all the makeup she’s somehow managed to collect, even though we’ve never bought any for her.”

  “That’s a great way to build her trust,” she says sarcastically.

  “Yeah… I don’t have anyone to blame it on anymore, either,” I respond. “Maybe not such a great idea.”

  “I’ll get her to a point that she doesn’t want to wear it. You have my word.”

  “You’ve got some real confidence there…”

  “Except for the wedding. We’ll let her wear a little to the wedding, right?” she asks, blinking her lashes quickly to win my favor.

  “As long as she doesn’t look any older than… like… a tween,” I bargain with her. “The second she looks 13, I’m washing it all off.”

  “That’s fine. I can work within those parameters.”

  “Okay.”

  Someone knocks lightly on the door frame. “Can I come in?” Trey whispers.

  “Sure,” I say, standing to offer him my seat. “Why don’t you two get acquainted with your nephew, and I’ll go downstairs and help finish getting lunch ready for everyone else?”

  “Sounds good. He’s clean, right?” my brother-in-law asks.

  “For the moment…”

  After we have lunch, Jack decides to try his hand at feeding Luca. After I’m sure he’s getting the hang of it, I head upstairs
to look for the warmer for the wipes, which can only be in a couple of different closets.

  In Luca’s room, I notice things are even neater than they were when I left. Coley and Trey have folded the quilts, which I’d left pretty messy. The wipes and powder are back in their side pocket on the changing table, and the pillow that I’d tossed off the rocker and onto the floor earlier to get it out of my way is back where it belongs.

  Not only that, but the head of the larger-than-life sock monkey has been propped up, so the animal doesn’t look downtrodden like the natural plush stuffing makes its head lay. Somehow, it brightens up the room and lifts my spirits.

  His closet hides a treasure trove of items that I know Livvy and I didn’t buy. I find the warmer, but in addition to that, there are items of clothing I’ve never seen, toys, blankets, shoes, a Pack ‘n Play folded up in the back and even a swing. They’re things I’d still needed to buy, but not items that were terribly high on my list.

  “Can I come in?” Emi asks, standing in the doorway.

  “Sure.” I scratch my head, surveying all the gifts. “You have something to do with this?”

  “Not much. Shea had been planning the shower, you know… most of those are the shower gifts. We didn’t think a party was appropriate, but people wanted to pass along the gifts.”

  “Wow. That’s… unexpected, and so thoughtful. Like… who do I thank?”

  “She kept a list. It’s in his baby book… which is in this drawer.” She opens the bottom one in his dresser. “When you’re ready.”

  “Shea?” I ask, knowing she’s the one behind it, but asking anyway.

  “Yeah.”

  “How can I ever thank her for everything she’s done? I mean, she’s eight months pregnant. She doesn’t need to be going to all this trouble. She just needs to be taking care of herself and Charlie,” I say.

  “I have an idea.”

  “Really?”

  “We have to find Livvy’s sketchbook,” she tells me.

  “It’s in her nightstand, I’m sure. That’s where it went every night when she went to bed. And her old ones are either on the bookshelf in our bedroom or up in the studio. What’s in there?”

  “She told me she did a drawing of a mural for Charlie’s room. I’d love to find it… and I think–you and I together–we could figure it out. You could easily sketch it, I’m sure, and I can mix the colors. We can paint it together… it will never be as good as what Liv could do, but I know it would mean the world to Shea. Livvy wanted to do it for her after Auggie was born.” I flinch a little when she says Auggie. Even though she and her mother sounded nothing alike, I still hear Livvy’s voice every time Emi speaks the word.

  “Let’s go see what she had in mind.”

  After finding her book, we have to flip back a hundred pages to find what appears to be the perfect mural for Charlie, even though it’s not labeled. I flipped quickly, because it pained me to see all of the art that would never see the light of day. Street art that would never be painted on buildings. Ideas never realized. It was crushing, and I didn’t want my thoughts to linger on that. I wanted to be able to bring one more masterpiece to life.

  “The astronaut’s alphabet,” I say, reading a little note she wrote to the side. Emi and I both study the drawing. She’s assigned an adorable illustration for every letter and spaced them across a neatly sketched wall. If an ‘astronaut’ is present, it’s an animal–a monkey, a hedgehog, a sloth, a panda bear–there’s even one that looks like Gunner, their Airedale terrier. “You’ve got to be kidding me. This is about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “Did you notice all the animals are eating fruits or vegetables? A little nod to Shea, maybe?” Emi points out.

  “Oh, how perfect.” The mural will be simple to complete. I think either one of us could paint it, although I think I’m definitely the better candidate to draw it out, knowing my mother-in-law’s weaknesses. She’s never been great at drawing by hand, but she’ll be the ideal collaborator on this. “This will be simple.”

  “Absolutely,” she agrees. “I think she was taking into account a limited work schedule in the weeks between Auggie’s birth and Charlie’s.”

  There’s that name again.

  “Maybe.”

  “While we’re in here, did you ever find the ring?” She’d asked me last week if I’d seen the green ring that Jack and Emi had given to Livvy on our wedding day.

  “No… we can look. It’s not in her jewelry boxes. Maybe in one of those other hat boxes?” I suggest, pointing to them in the closet. “I’ll look in this other one by the table.”

  Before she’d gotten pregnant, Liv wore it often when we went out, but I hadn’t seen it in months. It wasn’t with her engagement and wedding bands, either, which she had been keeping on a small ring stand on the vanity.

  The one thing I hated about cremation is that they wouldn’t take jewelry. I still have her wedding band, and I feel like it should be with her. “You’ll have a ring to give each child,” Jack and Emi kept telling me. But I still hadn’t found Emi’s green engagement ring.

  “Daddy? What are you doing?” Edie asks me, sitting on the poorly made bed.

  “We’re looking for a piece of jewelry of your mother’s.”

  “Which one?”

  “The green ring that once belonged to Memi.”

  “Oh,” she says, walking over to Livvy’s chest of drawers and reaching toward the back. She pulls out a pair of pink fuzzy socks and hands them to me. They’re heavier than socks. I separate them and reach inside one, pulling out a small box that contains the keepsake.

  “Well,” I say with a chuckle. “I didn’t ask the right person.”

  “Thank you, Edie!” Emi hugs her granddaughter.

  “Hey, I have a question,” my daughter segues, barely accepting the embrace. I nod, encouraging her to continue. “Can I get my ears pierced?”

  “No,” I say, giving the request no thought whatsoever.

  “Why not?”

  “Because your mother said no.” She had said no when Edie asked two months ago. “Nothing’s changed.”

  “Yeah it has. She isn’t here anymore.” I look at Emi, who looks away, saddened.

  I strain to smile at her challenging response. “That doesn’t change what her wishes were, bunny,” I explain, my voice measured. “We don’t dismiss those, just like we don’t dismiss her. Have some respect, okay?”

  “Jon,” Emi scolds.

  I bite my lip, knowing I took it a bit too far, but my daughter still glares at me angrily. “Do you have something more to say about it?”

  “Why didn’t Mama have her ears pierced? Everyone else got theirs pierced when they were babies, practically.”

  “Because she wanted to be different. She never wanted to be like everyone else. She liked the idea of being a blank canvas. And in the end, in her mind, not having them pierced and being the person she was created an air of mystery around her. And she liked that.” And there are other reasons that I’ll never explain to her or her mother.

  “Do you like earrings on girls?” she asks me.

  “Frankly, Eeds, I don’t like anything that draws attention from boys to my eight- and nine-year-old daughters. That goes for pretty jewelry and makeup and some of the clothes you ask us to buy you. You’re a little girl. When you’re 16, you can ask me again.”

  “Sixteen?!” she yells dramatically. “I bet Memi got her ears pierced before she was 16!”

  I don’t even wait for Emi’s response. “I’m not Memi’s father, now, am I? That was a decision she made with her parents… and times were different then. I bet her dad didn’t have to worry about her starting a YouTube channel. Let’s ask her that.”

  Edie’s cheeks blossom in a deep crimson. “They didn’t even have computers back then!” She storms out of my room and into her own, slamming the door. It’s not allowed in our house, but I’ll talk to her about it later when we don’t have company and we’re both calmer.

/>   “She’s almost right. We barely had computers,” Emi says with a laugh.

  “You just proved my point.”

  She smiles, now holding all of Livvy’s most precious rings in her palm. “So, Jon,” she starts.

  “Yes?”

  “I want you to put these somewhere secure. Locked away. You should do that with any of her jewelry you intend to keep. Do you have a fireproof safe here?”

  I nod my head. “It’s in the back of the bedroom closet.”

  “If you can ever part with them, I think you should consider passing one down to each of the kids.”

  “No, I know. I think it’s a good idea.”

  “I’d like Edie to have my ring,” she says. “As the firstborn.” I don’t disagree. “Willow should have Livvy’s engagement ring, and I think Luca should have the wedding band. He could use it as the base for an engagement ring or something someday, right? You could use jewels from a necklace or bracelet of hers, if he wanted, like we did with Coley’s ring for Trey.”

  “We’ve got a long time to plan for that.” I rub my fingers against my beard. Fortunately, no one had said a word about the fact that I hadn’t shaved since the day of the funeral. I was getting used to seeing myself in the mirror–and used to people’s reactions who I hadn’t seen in a while.

  “Should we put them away?”

  “Yeah.” I take them from her and go to the closet. “Em?” I say loudly to make sure she hears. “Should anything happen to me, you know… everything you need is in here.” I think about that for a second. “I guess I need to check in with Danny… change my will… although I think the wording will still get everything where it needs to go.”

  “You, Jack and I should probably make a trip together,” she says, now behind me. “And we’ll show you where the safety deposit box is. Trey knows, but… just in case.”

  I stand up and give her a hug. “Yeah.”

  “Can I wash up your sheets for you while I’m here?” she asks, her speech tentative.

  I look down at the floor. “Why? Do you think I haven’t washed them?” I ask, testing her out.

  “There’s makeup on her pillowcase, Jon. Unless you’re sleeping with another woman already–”