His eyes shone, but not with hope. “That’s so lame,” he whispered. “You’ve apologized a hundred times for being late. Traffic’s not the problem. We’ve got four and a half million people in the area, and folks are always running late.
“Face the truth, Mom. You were always nagging me about something. You never trusted me with anything important, but I was all you had as a babysitter. And when the accident happened, of course you blamed me. But guess what? I didn’t blame myself. Kayla and I threw football passes loads of times in the past and nothing bad ever happened. I wish I could undo it, but I can’t, and I’m tired of feeling like a murderer.”
He pivoted like a soldier doing an about-face and left the room. Left me alone with his resentment, anger, and possibly hate, although I didn’t want to believe that. I did know, however, that we were still hurting each other. I’d been told to communicate, and I’d tried. Now, I was exhausted and disappointed. Nothing had changed. Nothing had been accomplished. But if he thought I’d give up on our relationship, he’d have to think again.
I reached for a pad and pencil. “Back at six a.m.”
I signed off with a quick sketch of a sad me. If I was lucky, he’d believe that communiqué.
Chapter 36
CLAIRE
My two weeks with Tina flew by, and suddenly I was back at the office, regaling my mom with stories of her great-granddaughter. I also insisted my hard-working mom take a week off from work. I assured her we’d have a family gathering when Ian was ready to introduce Tina to the rest of the crew.
“I will take a week’s vacation,” Mom said. “Frankly, I need one. And your dad suggested we relax on a little cruise as soon as you returned. We’ve already booked it—one of those inexpensive last-minute deals. It’ll be good for both of us.”
“You surely deserve it. I don’t even know how to begin to thank you for all your help.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I love helping buyers choose their options, and besides,” she whispered, “I'm getting paid.”
I grinned at her and shooed her out of the office, strangely energized and ready to return to work but not ready to return to my volunteer job at the hospital. I called Rose, however, and got Neil Schulman’s phone number. His mother seemed glad to hear from me and expected me for a visit the next day. I’d offered to mail Neil’s pictures, but she definitely wanted to meet me.
It had only been three weeks since Neil’s death. At that point with Kayla, I’d been hiding in the house. Maybe Mrs. Schulman was doing the same.
When she opened her door, I greeted her with condolences. She greeted me with a smile and a hug. She didn’t act like a zombie, just seemed strained and sad.
“I’m so glad to finally meet Miss Claire,” she said, inviting me in. “Neil talked about you nonstop. He said you made his art better.” Her lips trembled, but her voice never faltered. She looked away for a second then met my gaze again. “I can never thank you enough for making his time at the hospital so much happier.”
I wanted to bawl but tried to take my cue from this woman who seemed so much stronger than I had been.
“I loved knowing Neil and making art with him, Mrs. Schulman. He had real talent.”
Family pictures were displayed wherever I looked, Neil and a little girl clearly the focus of the lens most of the time.
“Let me show you something.” Neil’s mom led me to a hallway in the bedroom area of the small house. I came to a full stop as I saw a gallery of the boy’s work, each drawing in a simple frame. A sign of respect.
“Your son was quite remarkable,” I said, slowing down to look at each one. “And I’ve got two more for you.”
She nodded. “H-he was a remarkable boy. He was a gift.”
She led me toward the kitchen and, before I could stop her, put a kettle of water up for tea.
“If you have a minute, I need your help. Neil’s dad and I want to donate art supplies to the pediatrics unit. We want to put a gold plaque up that says ‘Neil’s Art Closet’ and make sure the shelves are always filled. It would make us feel good knowing other children could spend happier hours in the hospital.”
She had such plans, such energy. Was she not even mourning Neil’s loss? Or maybe she was keeping busy enough not to feel it, sort of like Jack?
“How do you do it?” I asked, my thoughts not on the art closet.
Mrs. Schulman looked confused. “Do what? I was asking you about...”
“No, no. Not that.” I leaned forward. “I lost my daughter more than two years ago. A car hit her while I was away from home. I hid in the house for months. Never thought about “doing something” for others. You’re as remarkable as Neil.”
And now, tears came to the woman’s eyes. “Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. All I can say is that Frank and I have been living with the possibility of losing Neil for a long, long time. Years. We always knew the worst could occur. It doesn’t make it easier, but in the end, we have to accept that death is part of life.”
A phrase that comforted so many. I wasn’t there yet. “With an illness, you can blame genetics. With an accident, there’s human error. I blame myself.”
She took my hand and looked at me with such compassion I could have cried. “Blame is a mind game. Until you let it go, you’ll never find peace. Imagine how the person who actually hit your daughter feels.”
A video of my last encounter with Sarah Levine ran through my mind. “I’ve met her. I know how she feels.” As if she’d destroyed the world.
“And you pity her.”
I startled. Hadn’t Sarah Levine been my nemesis all this time? I’d never acknowledged her feelings.
“Why are you so surprised at yourself?” Neil’s mom asked. “You’re a compassionate woman, and even through your own grief, you know life has to be hell for the driver. He or she can never forget.”
She wasn’t the first one to tell me that. Judy had said it. Jack too. And I’d brushed them aside. But I believed Neil’s mother. Either she had a way a speaking or I was ready to listen.
“You’re as good or better than the support group I’ve started going to. And of course, I’ll help you stock the art closet. Let’s talk to Rose about it.”
“Thank you so much. I really know nothing about art supplies except for what Neil used. Let’s make an inventory list.”
I guess I’d be going back to my volunteer job.
Chapter 37
IAN
Saturday, mid-November
My cell phone rang just as Tina and I were finally ready to leave for the welcome-to-the-family party at my parents’ house. That’s how Mom put it a couple of days ago when she suggested it was time for my grandparents to meet their great-granddaughter. I considered myself a single dad now and figured the more family Tina had, the better. So I agreed to the party, and I imagined Mom and Dad told the immediate world about their granddaughter.
Mom and I had become...hmm...I guess awkward would be a good way to describe it. Awkward with each other since the night of our confrontation, but I still trusted her to be a good grandma.
Annoyed at being delayed by the ringing cell, I picked it up and barked a hello to Ted Willis from the Roadside Café. We’d spoken once or twice about Colleen, of course, and the baby, so I wasn’t shocked to see his name on the ID. The shock came when he told me Colleen had gotten in touch with him.
“Nice of her,” I said. “She finally remembered your number after a month?”
“She asked about you, boy-o. But I gotta warn ya, seems like things are working out for our girl. They liked the demo, and she’s got an agent. She thought I’d want to know because of the karaoke at my place. Anyway, she said to tell you to expect a call...unless you don’t want to hear from her.”
Tell her not to bother. That’s what I almost said, but frankly, I had a lot to unload on that girl.
“What’s her number?”
“Her number? I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”
“Check your readout.”
>
“She was calling from someone’s office at a studio. That’s what she said.”
Ted was covering for her, but there was no use asking more questions. Colleen’s actions spoke for themselves.
“So when you magically communicate with her, you can tell her to call me.”
“Aw shucks, Ian. She didn’t do right by you, but maybe it will all work out in the end.”
I let it go, took Tina, and went to the truck. Made sure my cell was on. I drove on autopilot, and the miles to my old house sped by. I guess Ted’s message had me thinking hard. As I turned onto Bluebonnet Drive, however, and glanced in the rearview mirror at my sleeping daughter, I forgot the past and focused on what lay ahead. My stomach tensed. Tina would be the star of this rodeo, so why was I so nervous?
Maybe because you haven’t kept in touch with the grands the way you promised? Maybe because you’ve let them down? I didn’t even want to imagine Aunt Judy’s greeting. My cousins were old enough to understand but young enough not to understand. Dang, I liked my privacy.
The driveway was packed with familiar vehicles. Seemed my relatives couldn’t wait to meet Tina. I parked in front of the house then glanced at the dashboard clock. I was five minutes late because of Ted’s phone call. Mom was probably pacing right now. Getting out of the truck, I took a moment to look around in daylight. Familiar, yet strange. The mature live oaks, Bartlett pear trees standing sentry along the street and property lines, the landscaped bushes and flower beds filled with pansies and petunias forming clouds of blue, white, and pink.
But my eyes rested on the open lawn of our corner lot. Extra room to play, my dad always said. True enough, but now I turned away. My new place may not be the greatest, but I’d choose it over this one. And I guess I did. When I thought about that last year of high school...I still shook my head. If it weren’t for Danny and the rest of the guys, I never would have made it. Email was the biggest connector now. Danny would meet my daughter when he came home for the holidays next month.
I unlocked the baby’s car seat and murmured, “Might as well get the whole shebang over with.”
Tina kept on sleeping, which is what she did best. I chuckled, wishing her good luck with her nap while being surrounded by assorted grandparents and a host of close relatives.
Mom met us at the door, arms open, hugging me. “You’re late. I was worried.”
“Afraid we wouldn’t show?”
She staggered backwards, like I’d slapped her in the face. Maybe she wanted to slap mine. “Sorry.”
“Please, Ian. I know you hate me at the moment, but please sweeten up for everyone else. They’re as innocent as our sweet Martina Faith Barnes.” Then she leaned over and kissed my daughter on the cheek.
Just saying the baby’s name the way she did showed me she was laying claim to her. Maybe it should have hardened my heart some more, but I felt it soften instead. Barnes. Tina was a Barnes. We all were her family. “It’s a deal.”
“Good, good. Come on in. Everyone’s waiting.”
And they were. In five seconds, I was surrounded by an assortment of family as well as a few friends, including Anne and Tom Conroy and Maddy. I wondered if she still wrote to Kayla. The house was decked out in pink bows and baby decorations, like a birthday party. The table was decked out in platters of deli sandwiches.
“It’s a shower,” said Grandma Barbara. “A shower of gifts and hugs for the new baby and you! Oh, Ian. She’s just beautiful. May I hold her?” Grandma Pearl stood beside her. “Me too?”
Their smiling faces and deference erased any concern I had about being judged and having to answer a hundred questions about my “girlfriend.” My grandfathers slapped me on the back and started talking about opening a savings account for their great-granddaughter. One after the other, they surrounded me with oohs and ahs and kisses.
Aunt Judy was the one who came closest to acknowledging the truth behind the scene when she said, “You must have gone through quite a time, Ian, but in the end, you made a good decision. Welcome home to both of you.”
So this party wasn’t only about Tina after all, which I guess was all right now. I horsed around with my grandpas, asked Maddy how she was doing, and kept an eye on the baby, reaching for her whenever I thought she needed the comfort of her daddy. The afternoon continued with everything going great until my cell phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number, but my gut said to answer it. Sure enough, I heard a familiar female voice.
“Hey, Ian! It’s Colleen. Did Ted tell you what’s been happening? About the demo and my agent. The producers liked my music, and it’s just like I dreamed. I’m gonna make a record and then an album. I knew it! I just knew I could do it. I bet your mama’s happy now with her arms full of baby. And you? Are you in college now?”
“Hang on,” I said when I could get a word in. “Mom, could you take charge of the baby?” She saw me on the phone and scooped Tina into her arms. I walked into my old bedroom and closed the door.
“What the hell are you talking about, Colleen? I work at the plant. Tina’s in daycare. Where’d you come up with those fairytales, or is that how you make yourself feel better about walking out on us? Well, let me tell you, girl, I’m glad you showed your true colors early. I sure am.”
I was on a roll now and shouting, but I couldn’t help it. “Tina is my daughter. Mine. Not my mother’s. And it hasn’t been easy, but we’re doing okay.”
“Ooh, Ian, honey. You’re so upset. But why? You got what you wanted, and so did I. But I have an idea. Why don’t you come down here so there’ll be two of us—”
“Two of us? You’ve got to be joking. The last time I looked, there was only one of us, and that was me. When the going got tough, you ran. You may be pretty and talented and the future star of country music, but you’re not family material. You’re not the kind of person I want to share my life with.”
“Oh, Sweet Jesus, you hate me. But I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t hate you, even though you made me have the baby. I did it for you, Ian. You know that. So please don’t yell at me. Please.”
Maybe that was true. Or maybe I was a convenient excuse to ease her conscience. Did it really matter now? Tina was the only person who mattered.
I took a breath. A deep one. “I don’t hate you, Colleen. I can’t hate Tina’s mother. I’m just disappointed. Maybe I was in my own dreamland.” First, I had to calm her down and then remind her of her promise. “So, congratulations on the contract. I hope you’re a big hit.”
“Thanks, Ian. Thanks a lot. You know I’ve wanted this my whole life.”
“I guess I did know. Are you planning to live in Nashville now?”
“Yup. As long as my career is here, I am.”
“Well, that makes a lot of sense, you know, to live near where you work. That’s what I did.”
“That’s how we met.”
True enough. “So, Colleen, we need to talk about one more thing...that letter you were going to write giving me custody of Tina. You working on it?”
“Working on it? Why, I wrote it the first day I left. On the bus. Oh, heavens. Maybe I never mailed it....”
Figured. “So send it today. And I’ll tell you what. You and I—we really don’t know the legal stuff. I’m going to ask my dad’s lawyer to draw up an agreement. I’ll make sure everything is just like we talked about with you able to visit Tina.”
“That sounds good. Especially someday when I’m on tour. I trust you, Ian, but I’ll want to read it first. I didn’t understand a thing about these contracts down here. My agent helped me.”
I’d had some limited experience with legal documents because of building contracts. I knew enough to understand how long and involved they could be.
“Not a problem. You’ll have time to read and ask questions.” I remembered to get her address and phone number and told her I’d keep in touch. I suppose I should have told her to get her own lawyer for those record contracts. That’d wait for another time. After she signed our agr
eement.
I hung up and collapsed on my bed with relief. My shirt was soaked with sweat. All I could think about now was my daughter. Suddenly, I was glad to be with my family. Glad that Tina would be surrounded by their love and support.
As for me? I’d given Colleen her freedom. I’d promised visitation. I owed her nothing. It was time to move on.
JACK
Amazing how one thing could lead to another as quickly as it takes a snake to strike. Amazing how Claire talked Ian into sleeping over in his old room, the baby safely in something called a Pack’n Play she’d bought, hoping for these occasions. With Ian in the house, I wound up sleeping in Kayla’s room because I’d developed a ‘snoring’ problem that kept Claire up all night. Seemed my son bought into it hook, line and sinker, but I suppose he had others things on his mind.
In Kayla’s room, however, sat Claire’s portrait of our daughter, which was the most amazing thing of all. My wife had truly done a magnificent job. So good that my chest constricted every time I looked at it. So good that I expected Kayla to step into the room at any moment and give me a hug. So good that I needed a glass of water at midnight, at one, and two. I had to face it. I couldn’t bear looking at the picture too often. She was so real, and yet, she wasn’t there. Maybe I’d bring this up at the next support group meeting. With that decision, I relaxed, turned over, and closed my eyes.
Then I heard Ian get up with the baby. Oh, yeah. I remembered those middle-of-the-night feedings when the rest of the world slumbered on. Hmm...This could be the perfect time for an intimate visit, and after today’s family reunion, the perfect time for a job offer.
Slow down, Jack, slow down. Wait till he’s ready.
I got out of bed anyway and made my way to the kitchen, where I watched my boy be a daddy to his little one. I listened to his soft, deep voice making silly noises at her. I’d had no idea that my kid could be so gentle. His young man’s body was still filling out—he was still so young. I marveled at his self-reliance.
Family Interrupted Page 23