“No!” Her voice fills with that all too familiar dread that will soon escalate into pure frenzy. “Come back! Come back!” She runs to the edge of the water so quickly and carelessly, Kiran rushes to swoop her up before she falls in.
“Claire, it’s okay, sweetheart. They always come back in the morning.”
She doesn’t look at him, but instead reaches her arm out to the ducks in the same way she had when she wanted to fix the pebbles. “Come back!”
The shrillness of her cries is truly alarming, and I’m sure the neighbors must think someone’s been horribly injured. “Let’s take her inside,” I tell Kiran.
The further we walk from the lake, the more hysterical she becomes. “Papa, no! No! Why won’t they come back?”
Once we get inside, Claire thrashes in Kiran’s arms, but he won’t put her down.
“Maybe you should put her down before she ends up clocking you,” I suggest.
But he doesn’t listen and holds her even tighter, pulling her head to his chest as her arms flail about. “Claire, stop it. Stop!” he says firmly.
She continues swinging, almost as if she can’t tolerate the human contact for another second. As she shrieks, somehow she manages to claw her tiny fingernails into his neck, and I cover my mouth as I watch in horror. He needs to put her down!
However, he doesn’t waver. “Shhh. It’s okay. It’s okay. Shhh…” He continues to hold her to his chest, and rocks her at the same time. “It’s okay.”
I’ve stopped breathing as I watch this scene unfold, praying it doesn’t get any worse. Then suddenly, her body goes limp and she stops fighting him; her cry now one of submission instead of hysteria. At first her arms hang lifeless at her sides, but as Kiran continues to comfort her, they slowly lift and encircle his neck, her cheek against his chest.
Holding my stomach, I finally exhale as I’m struck again with the reminder that this is what Carly and Jason deal with every day.
Within five minutes she has fallen asleep in his arms, completely spent from the episode. After taking her upstairs and laying her in our bed, Kiran and I stare at her, both of us speechless. Folding one arm across my stomach, I bring my other hand to my mouth as I recall Carly’s words. “I just want her to have a happy, normal life.”
Kiran approaches me and wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I sink into his embrace. “You were great with her,” I say quietly. “Really great.” Then after a few seconds I push away to look at the scratch. “How bad did she get you?”
He shrugs and brings his fingers to his neck, feeling for damage. Upon inspection, there’s a scratch that has welted up, with two little ones beside it. He follows me to the restroom where I take a cotton swab and peroxide to clean it.
“C’mon,” I say. “Let’s go downstairs and let her sleep.”
We sit on the couch in front of the TV, Kiran’s arm draped around me, and I’m completely unaware of what we’re even watching. I get the sense that he’s numbed as well. Without lifting my head from his chest, I say, “I need to talk to you.”
Already, my heartbeat picks up the pace with my heightened nerves.
“Okay…”
Swallowing hard, I proceed. “Do you wish I could still have kids?”
I swear I feel his chest sharply expand in reaction, leading me to believe he’s unprepared for my question. “What?”
I sit up to look at him. “Do you wish I could still have kids? So that we”—floundering, I motion my hand back and forth between us—“could have children of our own?”
There is almost a panic in his eyes as he licks his lips before responding. “What do you mean? We’re grandparents, and you’ve had your tubes tied.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking if I never had my tubes tied, never had the ablation, do you think it might have been something we would have discussed?”
Leaning back into the corner of the sofa, he crosses his arms and shakes his head slightly. “I don’t see how any of this is relevant. It’s not an option for us, so it doesn’t matter.”
I abruptly rise from the sofa. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters. It matters a lot that I understand what’s been making you sad, depressed…”
“I admit to feeling a little depressed after having a heart attack, and suddenly this requires some kind of intervention?”
He’s getting ruffled. Good. It’s about time.
“What?” he continues. “You never get depressed?”
“Of course I get depressed. And sad. But I don’t try to protect you from it. You don’t have to try and protect me from whatever it is you’re going through.”
He smiles ironically. “You don’t try to protect me? I’d have to disagree with that, since obviously this worry you have about me wanting kids has been eating at you for a while now! And what do you call me finding you on the bathroom floor crying your eyes out in the middle of the night? Huh?”
I stop pacing and bite my lip.
“I’m not going through anything,” he adds dismissively, like all of this is just in my mind.
“Why are you lying to me?” The startling thing is I don’t just state my question; I screech it. It’s almost as if I’m rising out of my body and observing this crazy person.
Kiran winces as if I’ve just slapped him in the face, and I don’t even feel bad about accusing him of lying because I know he is. He just doesn’t see it that way.
Now my tears spill freely. “I know having a heart attack must have affected you mentally, emotionally. I get that. But sometimes you don’t act like yourself, and I feel like maybe I don’t know you.”
The wounded look on his face makes me question if I’ve gone too far, but it had to be said. His chest heaves. “You’re talking about the other night at the hotel, aren’t you?” His voice is eerily controlled and his eyes narrow. “You seemed to like it just fine, but I guess you were protecting me then, too. Right?”
My heart is breaking. I’m nauseated. This conversation is not going at all how I wanted it to, and it’s exactly why I avoid confrontation at all costs.
Just tell me what’s going on. That’s all I want. Confide in me. Give me the chance to be the shoulder for you that you are for me!
I can’t breathe. All I can do is pray that my eyes convey all I’m unable to say. “You’re taking this all wrong.”
He swipes a palm over his face and looks away.
Still standing several feet away from him, my arms hang at my sides. “I never meant to hurt you by saying that. Please… I just need to know what’s going on in your head.”
Staring out the window, he lets out a lengthy sigh and says, “I see the way you interact with Seth…”
Wait. What?
“Seth? What are you—”
“Let me finish. Please. You want an explanation, and this will be very difficult for me to give. I don’t know if you’ll understand, because it’s kind of hard for me to understand, and hard for me to put it into words.”
Swallowing, I nod.
Avoiding my eyes, he continues. “Before I begin, I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to say you have romantic feelings for him, okay?”
My mouth goes dry. Where the hell is this going? I slowly move to sit on the coffee table across from him.
“Seth and I are so different. He’s funny and adventurous. Spontaneous. Kind of the same personality you said David had. That I saw in David, the few times we interacted, that same juvenile nature.”
What? Now David? Total confusion must be on my face, but I keep my mouth shut.
“When I had the heart attack, it made me think about my mortality. How I’ve gotten such a late start on my life. That maybe I’ve always been too safe, but that’s also who I am…” He falters, and I don’t know if I should interject.
When he fails to continue, I offer gently, “Okay. But I don’t understand what you’re getting at about Seth, or David for that matter.”
“Those times you felt like y
ou didn’t know me…” Briefly, he meets my gaze before shifting it back to the window. “I think… maybe I was trying to make up for lost time, and also be what I thought you preferred. I’m not sure.”
Dazed, I don’t know how to respond without appearing insensitive to what he is saying, which I’m still not completely grasping. When he finally looks at me again, my bewilderment must be evident.
“Anna, from what I know, it seems you’ve always been attracted to more creative, unconventional types. Luke is a graphic artist. And gay.”
“Wait, are you making fun of me because of my past clueless choices in men?”
Ignoring my snark, he adds, “David is a writer.”
“And a raging alcoholic!”
“I know. I know.” He shakes his head. “I’m not trying to say you belong with an alcoholic, but by comparison, I’m a staid, boring dermatologist.”
“What?” Jerking backward, my spine goes straight as a rod. “First, I have to say that you and Luke have very similar personalities. Okay, so he’s an artist. But he’s not particularly adventurous or hilarious. You know what he’s like. Richard is definitely the wild and crazy one out of that duo.”
Kiran leans his face in his hand and looks past me. “This is exactly why I didn’t share any of this with you.”
“Why? Because I’m supposed to believe you don’t have doubts or insecurities? Hey…” I wait for him to turn his eyes back to mine. “You are anything but staid and boring. Do you have any idea how engaging you are to me? And I’m not talking about just here.” I touch his face before my hand slides down to his chest where I lay my palm. “But here. This heart. This amazing heart…” I shake my head and smile, my voice breaking as I continue. “Will forever make you anything but staid and boring. Every day, every day I thank God for having met you.”
He swallows and takes my hand, holding it to his chest.
Exhausted yet relieved this conversation has taken a positive turn, I take a deep breath and push a strand of hair away from my face. “So… that night on the hotel grounds. Was that really you? Or was that you trying to be someone else for me?”
“I don’t know.” He rolls his eyes before staring at the ceiling. “Maybe a little of both? You know, me not really knowing what’s what lately.”
I draw my lips inward and nod. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t want you to think we can never do anything adventurous. I just sensed there was a whole other layer to, you know—everything.”
Groaning, I rub my brow. “This midlife stuff ain’t no picnic. Believe me, I have worries about how you see me, too.”
Oh Geez. Did that just come out?
Still holding my hand, he playfully tugs at it. “Like what?”
Unfortunately, it’s only fair I share my shit after all I’ve dragged out of him. “Well…” I begin. “I’ve become this weepy, emotional mess. That is, more than usual. It seems as if I’m bloated all the time, and the pounds just keep creeping on, making me feel… less than attractive.”
As I state all of this in an off-the-cuff way, Kiran gives me a quiet, sympathetic smile.
“And when your boyfriend looks like”—I wave my hand in front of him—“this, and is highly motivated to go to the gym, when you never have been and probably never will be, you see my dilemma.
“Let’s see… what else? Oh! Let’s talk about sex, shall we? And how even when the mind is willing, sometimes the body isn’t, and on occasion there’s no feeling down there.” Leveling my hand for emphasis, I add, “None!”
Raising his eyebrows, he props an arm on the sofa, amused.
“Seriously,” I continue. “Viagra for women is way overdue.”
“I guess we should start investing in some toys then.”
“Really?” I ask, relieved. “You wouldn’t be offended?” It is pretty sad that we’ve waited so long to have this discussion.
“No! I just wasn’t sure if you would be offended if I introduced the idea.”
I bring my face close to his. “I wouldn’t.”
We both laugh, and he says, “I’m going to have to break down and get the Viagra soon anyway. These heart meds are taking their toll on junior.”
“Junior? You’ve never referred to him as junior before.”
He shrugs. “Maybe I will now.”
“I don’t think that name is appropriate. It’s misleading.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” he says with a chuckle.
Getting up from the coffee table, I sit in his lap and wrap my arm around him. “I’m so glad we talked.”
“Me too.”
“Let’s promise not to wait so long next time, okay?”
“Okay.”
Taking his hand into mine, I squeeze his fingers. “Can we finish talking about something we didn’t finish talking about, though?”
“What’s that?” He frowns.
“…Kids.”
His muscles stiffen. “What about them?”
“Obviously, I can’t have children anymore, and even if I could, I’d be too afraid to at my age.” I look down at our laced fingers as his thumb crosses back and forth over mine. “But, it seems like you have regrets about not having any of your own, and if you do…” Am I really going to say this? We’re almost fifty! Yes, Anna. Yes, you are. Because if anyone deserves children of his own, it’s Kiran. “I’d be willing to talk about adopting.”
When I raise my head to see his reaction, he’s just staring at me, apparently dumbfounded. Unable to read him, I search his face. “Well?”
He says nothing, but instead kisses me softly before pressing his face to mine. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me, how much I love you for saying that.” Pulling me to him, he holds me so tightly I almost can’t breathe. Is he saying this is something he wants?
After releasing me, he takes my hand in his and kisses it. “I don’t want to adopt. We’re too old. Even if we were given a baby right this second, we’d be nearly seventy by the time he or she was halfway through college. It wouldn’t be right, or fair, for them to maybe not have us around to see their own children.”
I lower my eyes and nod.
“And though Carly and Hayden belong to you and Luke, I see them as partly mine, too. Claire is my granddaughter. I’m happy, Anna. Sure, I have been going through some things, but in the big scheme, I’m happy.”
“Really?”
“Yes, and you’ve just now reminded me how much.”
TWENTY-THREE
“So, have things been any better around here?” I ask Luke as he flips the steaks on the grill.
We both glance over at the patio table where Carly sits with Claire in her lap, looking glum, and Jason sits at the opposite end drinking a beer with Hayden. “Does it look like things are any better?”
“Great.”
“I don’t know,” Luke mutters. “We don’t really hear them fighting anymore, but I’m not sure they’re even talking to each other much at this point.”
“This is a disaster. If they could just get whatever this thing is diagnosed, Claire could start getting some help.”
Kiran joins us and brings me some wine.
“Thank you, sweetie.” I take a sip from my glass. “We were just talking about how uncomfortable things are with the kids.”
He looks over his shoulder. “You can definitely cut the tension with a knife. Let’s hope the plan you two came up with can help relieve some of their stress.” Luke and I put our heads together to come up with a way to support them more than we have been, which we intend to talk to them about at the end of the evening.
“Hey, Mom!” Hayden calls. “Did you remember to bring my birthday banana pudding?”
“Yes, Hayden.”
He gives me a cheesy grin. “Thank you, Mommy.”
Hayden gets a notification on his phone, jumps out of his seat and goes inside, at which time Jason directs an empty stare at his wife and daughter, his shoulders drooping. When Carly looks up and notice
s, he quickly turns away and takes a swig of his beer.
She removes Claire from her lap to go inside, and as she passes, without raising his head, Jason takes her by the hand. Stopping in her tracks, she looks down at him. Reluctantly, he meets her eyes and affectionately swings her hand in his, ever so slightly. They gaze at one another for a moment, and Carly gives him a small smile. Did I just see her squeeze his hand?
When she continues into the house, he doesn’t just let her hand fall, but instead loosely holds her fingers as they slide out of his own.
I turn around to say something to Kiran and Luke, only to find they’re too busy talking and missed the exchange. But I saw it, and it tells me there’s still something there.
Shortly after, Claire passes her daddy to follow Carly, but Jason swoops her into his lap, laying her across his legs to tickle her ribs. She lets out a belly laugh, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of relief when it comes to them.
Minutes later, Hayden comes through the back door with a young woman. He said he would be inviting a couple of friends over for his birthday celebration. Friends. But as his mom, I can’t help but wonder if that’s just his way of keeping us out of his business. Okay, keeping me out of his business.
“Look!” I smack Luke on the shoulder. “Hayden invited someone. And she doesn’t look like Barbie.”
“Anna, don’t even go there,” Luke chides. “Every time you get hopeful about him dating the antithesis of Kim Kardashian, you’re disappointed.”
I finish off my glass of wine and shrug. “You’re right. What can I say?” Then peering back in their direction, I add, “But just look at her. She’s so wholesome looking and cute. I mean, where’s the midriff shirt and low-riding jeans? Where’s the pierced navel? I’m a little verklempt!”
“Verklempt?” Kiran says with a half smile. “When did you turn into an old Jewish lady?”
I shake my head thoughtfully. “I don’t know.”
Once Hayden has introduced her to everyone else, they make their way toward us. “Mom, Dad,” he begins. “This is Jennifer.” After we each shake her hand, he adds while grabbing Kiran’s shoulder, “And this is my other step-dad.”
Menopause to Matrimony (Fortytude Series Book 2) Page 15