by Sandi Ward
Mark must feel Dad’s icy stare on his back, because he makes a partial turn and nods at Dad. Mark’s black hair is even more of a mess than usual, falling long to skirt his eyebrows.
“Hey.” His voice is flat. I think Mark is trying to sound casual, but to me, he sounds angry. Mark turns back to the bookshelf.
At first, the tone in his voice catches me off guard. I have never heard Mark sound cross before. But of course, it makes sense. It is as natural a reaction as anything else on this earth.
Mark has claimed Mom for his own, spending the night immersing himself in her touch and the sound of her voice. He has put his scent all over her. And now, here is her former mate. Naturally, he bristles at the sight of Dad.
I even heard Mark tell Mom he loved her. But then she said she still loves Dad. No wonder Mark feels threatened, and not in the way he did when he was worried about Dad’s gun.
There are many things here that Dad, being a perceptive person, must have noticed by now.
1. It is a Sunday morning. When most humans do not work.
2. I believe the garage doors are not open, as I never heard them go up or down.
3. Mark is wearing a T-shirt and shorts and sneakers, not his usual jeans and work boots. He does not have wood shavings on his clothes.
4. Nor does he have tools in his hands. Just a measuring tape, which may be useless considering the doors to the shelves have already been cut and are ready to be installed.
5. Vincent is nowhere to be seen.
“Hi, Mark!” Charlie’s cheerful voice pierces the silence. He smiles and waves with a grin. “Mom, are there any donuts left?”
Mom points to a box sitting by the toaster. Charlie walks over to pull a powdered donut out of the box. He grabs a paper napkin on his way back out of the kitchen.
Gretel, who has been circling Dad, finally trots over to Mark, her tail wagging. Mark glances at her, but does not extend his hand, as if he is afraid to show her affection. But Gretel is not deterred. She sits next to him, looking up at Mark with sad eyes, waiting for a hello.
Dad’s brow furrows for a moment, and then his face goes blank. All expression drains from him, and he almost looks calm.
Almost.
“You know, Kate, I don’t have to be in Boston for two hours. So I have a little time. Why don’t we go out and grab some brunch? We could all go. And your contractor could keep working in peace.”
Charlie comes running back into the kitchen, his sneakers squeaking as he comes to a halt. “Really, Dad? Oooh, yeah. Blueberry pancakes. I could go for that.”
Mom and Victoria exchange a quick, awkward glance.
And suddenly, I realize: It was Victoria. Victoria must have sent a message to Mom to let her know they were coming.
“Yeah,” Kevin chimes in, rubbing his hands together. “Sounds awesome. I’m starving. C’mon, Mom. You’ve gotta come too.”
Victoria clears her throat. “No. No, that won’t work. Mom promised to take me to get my hair cut. I need to go now, because I have dance squad later. You promised, Mom. Please. I’ve been begging you for weeks.”
Dad is suspicious. “Since when do you have dance squad? I thought you quit last year.”
“Yes,” Mom says matter-of-factly. “You’re right. I promised Vicky we’d go. Just let me put these things back in the refrigerator. But you boys can go to breakfast.”
“It’s all or nothing,” Dad threatens. “Everyone or no one. We’re not going to go without you guys.”
“Fine,” Mom says with a sigh.
But she doesn’t mean: Fine, I’ll go.
What she means is: Fine, I accept that the plans are falling through.
She turns her back to Dad and starts rearranging jars on the counter.
“Okay.” Dad clears his throat. He looks over the mess: two tomatoes here, a bottle of mustard there, a carton of eggs on top. He watches Mom’s hands, constantly moving. For a moment, his eyes soften, and he looks like he is going to say something more. But then he takes a quick glance at the back room, where Mark is still working, and bites his tongue. “I’m gonna get going.” His voice has gone very quiet. “Bye, guys.”
Mom stands up and watches Dad walk down the hall. The front door closes with an almost imperceptible whoosh behind him.
As soon as the kids are upstairs unpacking their bags, stomping from room to room, Mom strips off the yellow gloves and throws them in the sink. She walks over to the study and leans in the doorway. Mark glances back at her. They stare at each other, as if unsure of their next move.
I am almost expecting Mom to apologize for Dad’s behavior. But instead, she sighs.
“Mark,” she says, “Look. I’m sorry. This is my mistake. I have three children here. Three older children. And so I can’t . . . I can’t bring any instability into this house right now. I can’t take things one day at a time. I can’t wait and see where this goes. I can’t have men stay over just because I feel like it. It’s not going to work that way.”
Mark’s face gets red, and it takes me a moment to realize he is annoyed. Maybe more than annoyed. I think he is angry. He straightens up, hands on his hips, the way I have seen Dad do before when he’s about to start yelling. He gives her a look of frustration. “Where the hell is this coming from? Are you kidding me right now?”
Mom reaches over, and closes the glass door behind her so they will have some privacy. I scamper under the rocking chair to get out of the way. Mom makes a grand gesture with her arm. “Why didn’t you leave when Jeremy got here?”
“You told me to pretend I was working. I just did what you told me to do. You wanted to make it even more obvious that I slept over? Why would I leave, if I just got here?” He looks incredulous, and puts his hands out in front of him to plead with her. “Besides, I’m not leaving you alone with him. There’s something . . . not right with him. Don’t you sense that?”
“He’s fine. I’ve told you before. He’s not happy about the divorce, but we’re perfectly safe with him.”
“No, Katie,” he interjects, leaning toward her, “No, I don’t think you are. And I didn’t want to leave. I just got done telling you this morning that I’m not a toy you can play with and put down at your convenience. And here’s another thing: I don’t appreciate being treated like a big secret around here. I know you have three children. I’m an adult. And I remember what I agreed to last night. But I think Kevin and Victoria know perfectly well what’s going on. And, frankly, Jeremy did too. By not talking about it, by not talking about anything, you’re just creating a situation where the kids think it’s not okay to—”
Mom’s forehead creases with anger. “This is my family, and these are my kids. Not yours. You aren’t a parent, so you don’t understand. Don’t tell me—”
Mark freezes and glances behind Mom, startled. He suddenly cannot look her in the eye. “No. I’m not.” He swallows, and looks frantically around the room, as if he’s lost something and can’t find it. “You’re right. I’m not.”
Mom takes a small step forward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean . . . I didn’t mean anything by it. That is, I didn’t mean to remind you.” She swallows. “You are a parent. You’re Hannah’s dad. You remember what it feels like to worry about her. I just meant that—”
“No, no, no, you’re right. You need to put your family first. For a minute I forgot where I was. I forgot what the hell I was doing.” He raises a hand and drags it across his mouth, and then wipes down his wrists too, where the bee stings once were. He starts pacing the room, like he’s trapped.
“Mark.” Mom hurries to him and puts her hands on his arms, forcing him to look at her. “Mark, I’m sorry.”
He lets her drag him over to the couch. “It’s okay,” she goes on, “It will be okay.”
She pushes Mark down so he sits on the couch, and she climbs right into his lap, as if the weight of her will comfort him and keep him grounded. Her hand flies to his head and she runs her fingers through his hair until his body
relaxes.
I get the feeling Mom has been through this before, calming a man down. I wonder if Dad was the same way when he was younger.
“I don’t want to take it one day at a time, Katie,” he explains, sounding tired. “This isn’t a trial run, or whatever you think it is for me. I want to be with you. For real.”
She shakes her head. “You’re younger than me. You need to start a family of your own. You need to start over.”
“Maybe I don’t.” He puts his arms around her and his eyes soften. “I don’t want to go through that again. I don’t want to start over with a new family. I mean it.” He glances up at the way she is wearing her hair on top of her head. I can see he is incapable of staying angry at her for very long. I think Mom knew exactly what she was doing when she climbed in his lap. “Don’t you think I know what I want?”
She studies his face. “I’m not sure.” She hasn’t taken her hands out of his hair. “I know what you want right now. But you might feel differently tomorrow.” With another sigh, she says, “We can talk to the kids today if you want to. We can tell them that we’re seeing each other.”
“Okay, good,” he says, “That’s good.” He nods, as if everything has been settled. “We should start with Charlie. He’s the only one who doesn’t really know. And I think he’ll be okay with it. He seems to like me.” And with that he pulls her toward him, burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding her tight.
Yes! My heart soars. Charlie, Charlie, Charlie. Talk to Charlie. And don’t stop talking to him until you get some answers.
I hope Mom knows what she’s doing. Because if she decides she doesn’t really want Mark, I don’t think he’s the type who will find it very easy to let go. He doesn’t seem to be the kind of person who could just walk away.
And I realize: Dad is the same way.
Just then I turn to see Gretel watching us from the other side of the glass door. She isn’t begging to come in. She’s just watching, curious. I feel a little sorry for her, because she must be confused.
I walk up to the door, my tail high in the air, and stare back at Gretel through the glass.
What do you think about all this? Do we need to worry?
And in the way Gretel cocks her head, I could almost swear she understands me. Almost.
Chapter 23
Impressionable Teenager
It is very late in the night, and Gretel is driving me absolutely crazy.
I watch her from the edge of Mom’s bed. She has not slept a wink.
Sometimes, when our neighbors have a party, Gretel will listen to the unusual sounds and get very agitated. Tonight, she is the same way, but I don’t hear anything, so I’m not sure why she’s worried. She occasionally jumps to her feet, listening. Sometimes she whimpers, and turns in a circle. There is something making her very uneasy.
Mom scolded Gretel and told her to settle down. So she is trying to lie still. But her eyes are wide-open and her ears are straight up and alert.
I give up on trying to sleep on Mom’s bed and go out to the dark hall to sit overlooking the balcony. It’s quiet and peaceful. I am lying on the hardwood floor, half-asleep, when Victoria’s door opens.
Two eyes look out from the darkness and then a face emerges, pale as the moon. My heart skips a beat when I see it is Aidan.
He is wearing a T-shirt and his jeans. He tiptoes over to the bathroom and shuts the door. I notice that he does not turn on the light. A moment later I hear a flush and Aidan once again makes his way across the hall, his socks gliding on the hardwood floor.
I get up, shocked, and follow him into Victoria’s bedroom. He closes the door behind me. Pulling up the blanket, he climbs into her single bed beside her.
“Anyone see you?” Victoria whispers.
“Nah. Just the psycho cat.”
“Aw.” She giggles. “Lily caught you.”
Aidan is still sitting up. “Vicky, I should go home. I should sneak out now. Someone’s going to see me in the morning. I’m going to have to pee again.”
“Noooo.” She grabs a handful of his T-shirt. “Stay. Please. Stay.”
“But, Vic.” He brushes his hair back from his forehead. “I don’t know. I mean, I feel like we’re taking advantage of your mom.”
Victoria now sits up. “So my mom gets to have her boyfriend stay over, and I don’t? Who’s comforting me?”
Aidan stares at her, mouth slightly open. More and more, I have noticed that Victoria is asserting herself. And starting to win arguments.
I start to realize that since Dad has moved out, Victoria has become increasingly interested in getting Aidan to come over, to stay here, to pledge his loyalty to her. Although I don’t know enough about human behavior to say for sure, perhaps she feels Aidan can take the place of Dad as a man who is devoted in whole to her best interests. Aidan is hardly a man yet, but that is what he will be very soon. While he acts contrary and difficult much of the time, that may be exactly what she likes about him—Aidan rejects other people, but not her. Never her. Aidan’s constant attention might be preferable to Dad’s increasingly distracted manner.
“Yeah . . .” Aidan squints, and rubs his jaw. “I guess that’s true.”
Victoria slides her arm around his waist, and leans into him. “Lie back down. You’re fine. Nobody knows and nobody cares.”
“Okay,” he whispers. But even when he lies down, Victoria’s head on his shoulder and a smile on her face, I can see him staring at the ceiling in the darkness. I get the impression he’s uncomfortable being here.
When she squeezes his arm, his eyes finally relax.
“You’re bad,” he finally says. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“Yes, I’m a bad influence. Look, all we’re doing is sleeping. Nothing’s going on. You’re being an angel.”
“Yeah, but your mom doesn’t know that.” He turns toward her. “Vic, are you sure you can sneak me out of here tomorrow if I stay?”
“Mmm-hmm. Sure.” She runs her fingers through his hair the way that he said he likes. He takes in a deep breath. By the time he has exhaled, it is clear he cannot leave. He will not.
Something in my little heart jiggers and loosens and breaks off from the hardness that has encased it for so long when it comes to Aidan. I realize it is time for me to accept him. I think Victoria really loves him, and he’s not going anywhere. He’s not Charlie’s bully. There may be hope for him yet. He’s just very lucky that my sweet Victoria has taken a liking to him.
I am now stuck in Victoria’s bedroom because the door is closed. So I plop down on the floor for a while. But I can’t relax. Finally I climb up into the beanbag chair and knead my claws into it, which calms me. I nap on and off until the first rays of dawn start to lighten the room.
At one point, Aidan stirs. He curses and rubs his eyes. “Jesus,” he whispers, although Victoria is sound asleep. “I told you I’d have to pee again. Goddamn it.”
He forces himself up and clumsily climbs out of bed. Staggering across the room, he hesitates before leaving the room. His hand on the doorknob, he listens for movement.
Nothing.
I pad across the room to watch him slide in his white socks across the hallway to the bathroom. He barely makes a sound.
I find myself rooting for him. I hope Aidan makes it. Because if anyone does see him, I think he will be in very big trouble. Mom will be furious. And she will tell Dad, who will be even angrier.
And then—just when I think he is home free—Charlie emerges from his bedroom, eyes sleepy and hair askew. It is very early, and the hallway is still dark. Charlie is wearing his striped pajama pants and no shirt, and he yawns. When he hears the toilet flush, he folds his arms across his body and waits.
When Aidan emerges, Charlie startles something fierce. He puts a hand right over his own mouth. But he makes no sound.
Aidan sees his opening and puts a finger over his lips to shush him. Charlie nods, wide-eyed. Aidan points his thumb toward the bathroo
m to indicate that Charlie can go in. Charlie scurries in and closes the door behind him.
I watch Aidan disappear back into Victoria’s room, shaking his head.
When Charlie comes out of the bathroom, Victoria is there waiting for him in her oversized white robe. She throws an arm around Charlie and steers him right over to her bedroom. I am quick to follow, and she shuts the door behind us again.
Aidan is sitting on the bed, looking worried.
“Charlie,” Victoria whispers. “Look. Aidan just stayed over and it’s no big deal, okay? I’m sorry if he scared you.”
Charlie’s forehead creases. “Vicky. He’s not even supposed to be upstairs, never mind stay here all night. Mom is going to kill you.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“And she never will, if you don’t say anything,” Aidan chimes in.
Charlie looks from one to other. I imagine he is weighing his options.
Charlie! Use this opportunity to get something out of these two. They are going to owe you.
But my innocent Charlie doesn’t say anything. His mouth hangs open. He’s shocked. “Are you crazy?”
Victoria sits on the bed right next to Aidan. “No. Charlie. Look. Nothing is going on. Aidan’s got his clothes on. We’re not doing anything. He’s just sleeping here.”
Charlie makes an expressive face to show he doubts this is true.
“Look,” Aidan says. “Buddy. Thursday nights are my mom’s night off, and she had a few friends over. They’re partying. I knew they’d be there all night. And I didn’t think it was a healthy atmosphere for an impressionable teenager like myself.” His face remains expressionless, but I think he is making a joke. “So I got out of there. I was going to go to my friend Mike’s house for the night, but then I was already here, so . . .”
“C’mon, Charlie. Please. Just give us a break. Just give me this one thing. Don’t say anything to Mom.”
Charlie folds his arms across his bare chest. “Wow. Okay. All right.” He looks down at his feet before glancing back up at Aidan. “Your mom had some friends over, huh? I guess I understand. I mean, I get why you’d want to leave.”