Family Interrupted

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Family Interrupted Page 20

by Barrett, Linda


  “Talk about unwanted trash! Tina’s my child, but I’m yours. You haven’t given a rat’s ass about me since Kayla died, so why would you care about my baby? A kid dies, and the family goes to hell. Who needs it?”

  He was wrong, but that didn’t matter. He’d nailed his truth and shared it, without even knowing about Jack moving out.

  IAN

  I let the words rip and felt darn good. Even great. I’d never spoken to my folks like that before. Never needed a “gotcha” moment. But two years was a long time to keep big stuff bottled up.

  “Not give a rat’s...? How can you say that? You’re our son! We love you.”

  “Jack. Jack. Calm down.”

  They were like that. A tag team. Always supporting each other. Even as a kid, I could never play one against the other. I kneeled down to pack up the baby. Time to get out of Dodge.

  “Did you know, Ian, that it took us two years to finally get pregnant with you?”

  I glanced at my mom. “Nope.” And I didn’t want to know. Tina’s dirty clothes were in a plastic bag. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

  “Two long years.” She kept talking. As usual, she never even heard me. She was in another world; her eyes were sort of glassed over like she was dreaming up a painting scene.

  “We went through every fertility test known to science until we lucked out. And when you were born...it was like a miracle. Heck, it was a miracle. Being a mom was more awesome than I’d dreamed. Sweet, sweet Ian. You turned a couple into a family. We were so happy that, a few years later, we tried for another child. When Kayla was born, your dad and I...well, we truly ‘had it all,’ as the saying goes.”

  Kayla. The room got so quiet I could hear the clock ticking. And the air...suddenly the air grew heavy with thoughts no one dared to say out loud. Except me.

  “So I guess you don’t have it all anymore.” And I wasn’t apologizing for saying it. “But you still have each other.”

  I picked up Tina’s carrier. “Gotta go. Ben Parker doesn’t know about Colleen yet, and I’ve got to call him. I’ll have to miss work tomorrow.”

  “No, you don’t.” Mom jumped right in. “Stay here tonight, and I’ll watch the baby.”

  It would be such an easy fix, but it would cost me later, and the price was too high. I shook my head. “I’ll handle it.”

  Dad approached. “We want to help, son. Don’t be so stubborn. The baby’s supplies are here, so there’s no problem.” He extended his arm as if to take Tina’s carrier from me.

  “Sorry, Dad. I’ve got to take care of my own business, and I know how to take care of Tina.” For crying out loud, they looked awful, like the end of the world was happening again. “You know,” I continued, “kids in regular families move out. They don’t stay home forever, and the parents are a couple again, just like you two. Not so bad, is it?” And why the hell did I have to be the cheerleader? I’d had a lousy day myself with Colleen taking off. Maybe she was sick of an ordinary life, but I still couldn’t wrap my mind around her really leaving the baby.

  “Ian?” Mom was coming over. She leaned down and kissed Tina then kissed me. “Don’t make any rash decisions you might regret later. Dad and I are here for you. We’ll help in every way.”

  They were here for me? If I weren’t so worn out, I’d laugh. Of course, all their concern was about the baby. “I’m sure Tina appreciates your offer.” Even I heard the edge in my voice, and Dad rounded on me.

  “That wasn’t warranted,” he said. “I understand you’re angry with us, so let’s talk.”

  “Too tired. I’m done here tonight.” Turning toward the doorway of the family room, I said, “It’s been a long... Oh, sweet Jesus!” I stopped cold, slowly letting Tina’s car seat slip to the floor, and stared at my sister in her soccer uniform, my sister leaping with joy. I had to swallow a couple of times.

  In a moment, the two years disappeared, and once again I was on the front lawn throwing, running, feeling the hot sun on my head. I planted my feet, palmed the football, and raised my arm. “Catch!” I yelled, releasing the ball. My arm remained extended as I watched the newsreel in my mind. As I relived the moment.

  “Kayla...sh-she waited for the pass then ran for it. And that’s exactly how she looked...excited...happy.... She jumped high to intercept, and I saw the car come around, and I yelled and screamed, and I ran straight to her....” My arm dropped. I whirled on my parents. “What the hell do you do here all day? Torture yourselves?”

  I grabbed Tina’s carrier, rushed out, and didn’t look back.

  JACK

  The kitchen door didn’t have a chance to slam before I was there, right behind my son. While Ian installed Tina’s car seat, I made my pitch.

  “If you think I’m giving you up without a fight, you’d better think twice. I love you, and I miss you every day. And it has nothing to do with Tina. I didn’t even know about her until tonight.”

  Ian finished adjusting the baby’s straps and stood erect, glanced swiftly at the house then back at me. “It had to be that way.”

  Claire. He was blaming Claire. I didn’t know exactly what Ian was thinking, but I couldn’t defend Claire anyway because she and I were at odds too. But if there was the slightest possibility, a Vegas long shot, that our family could once more be happy and together, I’d take it.

  “Give us a chance, Ian. I know we’re still struggling, but if we try hard, we’ll get there. I’m actually going to that support group I once talked about. My first meeting is tomorrow night and every Tuesday afterwards. And that portrait you saw? Mom saved it for the anniversary party. On purpose. From the moment she unveiled it...man, oh, man, it was the topic of conversation.”

  “That’s a no-brainer. I can just imagine it. Grandma Barb and Grandma Pearl must have cried. Mom’s...she’s really losing it, isn’t she?”

  “That’s what I thought too. But she volunteers at the hospital with the kids, and she works in her studio every day. She says this painting has given her a new beginning.” Not that I’d believed it either two nights ago. But it was all I had.

  Ian stared at me wide-eyed. “Are you kidding? That’s not a new beginning. She’s living for Kayla. Living in the past.”

  “I’m not a shrink. Are you? I have to believe anything’s possible.” Well, maybe....

  Ian looked at the house again. “If you need a break, Dad, you can visit me. Colleen’s gone now, so it doesn’t matter.” He walked around the car and got in. “I’ve got to get Tina home and down for the night. If I’m lucky.” The last words were muttered, and I barely heard them.

  “Please, Ian. Like Mom said, don’t do anything rash. We love you. We love Tina. We can work it out.”

  “You just met Tina. How can you love her?”

  He didn’t understand at all. Well, what could I expect? He may have fathered a child, but Claire was right. Ian was still a kid.

  “We love Tina because she’s part of you.”

  With a quizzical glance, he drove off. It didn’t take a genius to know that he didn’t believe me.

  Claire met me at the door. “Did you say anything to him about moving to the Marriott?”

  “No ma’am. I did not. He’s got enough on his mind, and besides, didn’t you hear him earlier? He still thinks we’ve ‘got each other.’”

  “Yes, I heard that. He missed the mark by a couple of days, didn’t he?” She invited me in and stared at the floor. “I didn’t hang the picture, Jack. I was going to put it away in Kayla’s bedroom so you wouldn’t have to see it.”

  “You mind looking at me when you say that?”

  She tilted her head back.

  “Even though I’d already packed a suitcase and lit out?”

  She nodded. “You didn’t understand. Or didn’t want to understand. Sometimes, I don’t know what drives me myself. My instincts said I had to paint her again. I had to. And it made me feel good. Like I was saying, ‘Hi, Kayla. There you are...almost the spitting image of yourself. I’ve done a g
ood job.’”

  A modest statement. “Claire, it was a great job. I’ve never seen better from you.”

  “But it’s not making you happy. And now...?” She shrugged. “So where are we, Jack? And where are we going?”

  Excellent questions. And I didn’t have the answers. Not yet anyway. “Where do you want to be?”

  Her eyes shone, she looked thoughtful, then a blush stained her face. “Truthfully?”

  I nodded.

  “Back with the tomatoes and broccoli at Kroger’s.”

  Memories stirred. In an instant, they flooded my brain. Claire and I, the vegetable aisle, and the crash of shopping carts. That’s how we met, although Claire always said that our carts “kissed” among the fruits and veggies. We were a couple of busy college students, juggling jobs with homework—and shopping for groceries on a Sunday afternoon. The carts had definitely crashed head-on. I’d taken one look at Claire and didn’t see anything or anyone else. I hadn’t thought about that first meet in a long time. Seemed my wife still had the ability to land a punch.

  “I haven’t forgotten.”

  “I know. You have an excellent memory, and besides, we’ve told that story at least a million times.”

  She was beautiful. Laughing, sparkling. For this moment, carefree. Other memories bloomed. Happy ones. Exciting times. Buying this house and turning it into a home. Making love together.

  She must have read my expression, probably that of a lovesick calf.

  “Jack...” she whispered. “Do you really want to walk away fr-from...us?”

  Sucker punched again. But warning bells chimed in my head. “From which ‘us’? The couple we were before Kayla died or the couple we are now? Because the status quo won’t do. I want some joy again. I want more. Believe me, Kayla wouldn’t resent us having a laugh or two.”

  “I’m trying, Jack. I was trying to start over, but...”

  “If you’re serious,” I interrupted, “then you’ll come with me tomorrow night to meet some other grieving parents at a club no one wanted to join. We’re not the only ones who’ve lost a child.”

  “Are you really going to a support group?”

  “I am. And frankly, Claire, I expect you to go as well. That’s the cost of tomatoes and broccoli these days.”

  Chapter 33

  IAN

  Next evening

  “Hush little baby, don’t cry tonight, I’ve got to call your grandma, and I’m feeling uptight.”

  I rocked Tina in my arms while singing in my horrible voice. My sweet little girl closed her eyes. Maybe she had a tin ear too. I felt her body relax as she drifted into sleep and cautiously laid her in the crib. She’d had a hard day. As my friend, Danny, would say, I’d schlepped her around to a half dozen daycare centers until finally, we lucked out. Sort of. The good news was that I’d found a really nice place. The bad news was that Tina couldn’t start for two more weeks when one of the current infants would graduate into the toddler group. They adhered to strict teacher-child ratios, which I suppose was a good thing. But two weeks put me in a tough spot. I promised Ben Parker I’d be back at work tomorrow.

  I would have asked either set of grands to watch her—or all four of them together—but I didn’t know if my mom and dad had told them about Tina yet. Cursing under my breath, I auto-dialed my folks’ house, hoping my dad would answer.

  Two rings and my mom picked up. Suddenly, I was a tongue-tied idiot kid.

  “Ian! I’m glad to hear from you. You ran out of here so fast...”

  “I need a babysitter tomorrow and maybe Thursday and Friday. By six in the morning. Can you do it?”

  “Me? With Tina? Yes, yes, of course I’ll do it. I’d love to take care of her.”

  “But don’t get too...too attached.”

  “Oh, Ian...it’s much too late for warnings. We love her already.”

  Colleen was lucky to be a thousand miles away. Smashing her guitar would only begin the payback for leaving me alone in this mess. “I haven’t decided what to do yet.”

  “Oh, yes, you have.”

  In an instant, she sounded like my mother from the old days when she used to laugh and tease us. When she used to say, “I have eyes in the back of my head, so don’t even try it,” whatever it was at the time. I almost believed her back then. I was tempted to believe her now.

  “How do you know what I’m going to do?”

  “Because I know my son.”

  “You knew a high school kid, Mom. You don’t know me anymore. Just like with Kayla, you’re living on memories, and that sure doesn’t work for me.”

  She was silent for a minute. “I get it, Ian. I do. Now what’s your address?”

  The question would have almost been funny if it weren’t so sad. My mother had never been to my place since I’d moved out of hers.

  CLAIRE

  Jack knocked and walked in just as I hung up the phone. His eyes lit up when he saw me dressed and ready to go to the support group.

  “Looking good, Claire.”

  I’d made an effort with a red-ribbed jersey, black slacks, and a chunky black-and-silver necklace. Jack was used to seeing me in fun accessories because I enjoyed using them, mixing and matching, trying things out. It’s amazing how an eight-dollar bauble could finish off an outfit and garner compliments. Besides, I needed to wear my own armor for this event.

  “Thanks. I guess Kayla would say I’m in my ‘girly-girl’ mood, but never mind that. Guess who called to ask me to babysit for the rest of the week?”

  Jack’s brows hitched to his forehead; his mouth made a perfect circle. “You’re kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “Want some company?”

  Now I was the one open-mouthed. “That would be fun, but you’re committed to this meeting tonight, and I have to be at Ian’s by six at the latest so I’ll aim for five-thirty....”

  Now his brows lowered as he studied me. “Whoa! Wait a minute. Are you standing me up? After you promised?”

  “But I’ll need some sleep. I can’t take a chance of being late.”

  “So set your alarm clock.”

  Sometimes his irises could transform from a merry blue to a thundercloud gray. I saw a storm rising and held up my hand. Think, Claire, think.

  “All right,” I finally said. “Short-term pain for long-term gain. But if we’re late getting to Ian’s, I’ll blame you.”

  “I’ll take my chances. Let’s go.”

  At the last minute, I stuck a pad and a bunch of pencils in my purse. Always a comfort to have them close, like I was a kid with a security blanket. If I needed a distraction from the support group conversation? Voilà. I’d have one.

  We found the conference room at Texas Children’s Hospital without much trouble, but I was so tense by the time we arrived, I moved like a mannequin. So much for fashion plate armor or womanly grace. I clutched my purse.

  Jack had spoken with the facilitator on the phone, and I watched as they shook hands like old friends. Bill Thompson looked older than us, but I’d already learned that grief could age a person. He might have been older...or ten years younger. When Bill turned toward me, I looked into his face and saw only kindness.

  My mouth started trembling, and I bit down on my bottom lip. Well, that didn’t take long...and geez, how I disliked public displays of private emotions.

  “Claire, isn’t it?” he asked. “Hope you don’t mind wearing a name tag. We always wear them ’cause it makes it easier for first-timers.”

  I pasted it on and glanced at the others. About eight or nine people, softly chatting, smiling at me now and then, each with special memories. I could barely handle my own pain, so how was I supposed to “support” them? Oh, boy, coming here was a big mistake.

  Everyone pulled a chair away from the conference table to arrange more informally at the side of the room. Not exactly a circle, but we could see each other well, and there was more floor space. I made a silent bet that by the time the night was over, Jack would be p
acing—and he’d know everyone’s name without needing a prompt. I remained at the table but turned my chair to face the group.

  Bill introduced us. I nodded, said a quick hey y’all, and glanced at Jack. The spotlight’s all yours, buddy.

  “Hello. Like Bill said, I’m Jack Barnes and that’s my wife, Claire. This is our first time talking with other parents.” He paused. I could see him take a deep breath before he could go on. “We lost our daughter, Kayla, two years and one month ago. She was twelve years old, beautiful, full of life, full of joy. God knows, she was my joy.”

  No one spoke, as though everyone waited for his permission. But Jack added more. “To tell the truth, I can’t believe it’s over two years. Sometimes, it feels like yesterday. And sometimes, it feels like a million years ago since she died.”

  Beads of sweat gathered on his forehead; one dripped from his temple down the side of his face. He wanted this, I thought, but he’s suffering.

  “We’ve all felt that way,” said Bill. “Time is elastic, like a rubber band, with all its stretching and compressing. It’s a relative thing.”

  “The emotions always seem fresh...”

  “And just when you think you’ve got them under control, then boom! You get hijacked by a memory.”

  Others were joining the conversation. Not I.

  “You know what I hate?” asked one woman. “When people say they understand. But they don’t.”

  “They can’t.”

  “And when they think you should be over it using their timetable. Especially after the first anniversary.”

  My ears perked up. My chin perked up.

  Bill noticed. “Does that bother you, too, Claire?”

  I nodded and glanced at Jack. But I wasn’t putting our marriage front and center with a group of strangers, nice as they were. I kept quiet.

  “Getting over it is just not possible,” a woman said. “The family has changed forever. For always.... So how can you completely recover?” Her name tag said Laura, and she walked over and patted my hand. “You’ll see though. In awhile, the good memories, the warm ones, will replace those intense, painful ones.”

 

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