by SM Koz
“Or he could be somewhere between those two extremes. Again, there’s no way to predict.”
Tossing my mostly uneaten sandwich into the trash, I say, “This sucks,” in what might be the biggest understatement of my life.
The rest of the day drags on. I remain by JC’s side the entire time, only stepping away to use the bathroom. His condition doesn’t change at all, though. Around seven at night, Edna returns with a Tupperware container and plastic utensils.
“Here’s supper for you, honey,” she says.
“What is it?”
“Fried chicken, black-eyed peas, and collard greens.”
I open the container and am blown away by the aroma. I’m immediately starving. “It smells delicious. Thanks … E—Edna.” I stutter over the use of her name and wonder if I should say Mrs. McCoy, but then realize I don’t know if that’s her last name or if she’s even a Mrs.
“Call me Nana, child.”
I pause, chicken leg midway to mouth. I didn’t even call Jenna’s parents Mom and Dad. To their faces it was always Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson. Other times it was Elise and Warren.
I take a few bites and then set the chicken down. “Did you make this … Nana?” It doesn’t feel as weird saying it as I think it should.
“Sure did. How is it?”
“Delicious. Best I’ve ever had.”
She beams proudly and takes out her knitting tools. “Wanda, Tyrell’s mama, will be here in a couple hours for the nighttime shift. I’ll be back in the morning with some cousins. The docs and nurses are kind of picky about how many people are in here at a time, but we’ll see what we can do.”
As if on cue, a nurse sticks her head through the door, looking at me. “Sorry, but visiting hours are over. Only family can be in here until tomorrow morning.”
I was planning on staying all night. I open my mouth to protest, but Nana beats me to it. “Oh, honey, she’s family,” she says with a wave of her hand, completely dismissing the nurse.
The nurse looks from JC to me to Nana. “I don’t—“
Nana grabs her cane and hauls herself out of the chair. “I know you’re not about to make a disgraceful comment about my youngins.”
The nurse blushes.
“Because I’d hate to have to report you for cultural insensitivity.”
She shakes her head. “Of course not, ma’am. My apologies.”
“Thanks,” I say after the nurse leaves. “Although I don’t think she believes we’re related.”
“It don’t take blood to make a family. Just love. Tyrell loves you so I love you like you’re my own. That’s family.”
I feel myself start to get choked up at her words. I just met this woman today and she’s being nicer to me than Sheila ever was in the nine years she’s been my stepmom. I can’t even remember a time when Sheila said she loved me.
Chapter 32: August 27
The next morning, I wake to a familiar voice. “Hey kiddo, I have breakfast if you’re hungry.”
I crack open one eye and see that I’m curled up in two chairs, my head and chest on one and my legs on another. I also have a fleece blanket wrapped around me. I vaguely remember someone covering me with it last night and kissing me on the forehead.
I open my other eye and see the person who did that—Wanda McCoy—and the source of the familiar voice. My dad is standing next to her and they’re both smiling at me. “Good morning,” they say.
“Dad?” I ask, rubbing my eyes, not believing he’s really here. “What are you doing? And what are you wearing?” He’s got jeans and a polo shirt on. I can’t remember the last time I saw him without a tie.
“One question at a time.” He holds a bag out to me. “Why don’t you eat while we talk.”
I sit up and reach for the bag. When I open it, I see that it contains a Yoo-hoo, an orange juice, and a water, as well as a muffin, granola bar, and donut.
“Who’s all this for?” I ask, removing the donut.
“I wasn’t sure what you like.”
“Coffee.”
“You’re sixteen. You can’t drink coffee. It’ll stunt your growth.”
I yawn and then say, “First of all, I’m seventeen. Second of all, I’m five-foot-eight. I think I’ll be okay.”
He stares at me, deep in thought. After a moment, he says, “Shit. August 1st. I missed it.”
“For the fourth year in a row.”
He rubs his chin. “I didn’t miss it last year. I sent flowers.”
I take a bite of donut and talk with my mouth full, not caring about manners around him. “Sorry, I was talking about a personal Happy Birthday coming from you, not your admin assistant.”
JC’s mom had been watching us, but she slips away with a small wave. I’m sure she doesn’t want to get caught up in some big family battle.
He runs his hand over his forehead and then says, “I’m going to get some coffee. When I come back, let’s start over, okay?”
I nod and then turn my chair so I’m facing JC again. I hold his hand with one of mine, while I continue eating the donut with the other.
“You’re missing out, JC,” I say. “This is a really good donut. Maybe you should wake up so you can have some.”
When I finish, I brush the crumbs off my shirt and stand so I can study his face for the hundredth time since yesterday morning. I run my fingers over his brow and along his chin, but they’re stopped by the tube in his mouth. “This has to be really uncomfortable,” I say, tapping it with my finger. “That’s another reason to wake up.”
His face feels warm, so I fold the blanket down and put his arms on top of it. He’s wearing one of those ugly hospital gowns. “Reason number three—so you can wear something decent. I should go shopping. I can get you something nice.” I start to walk around the bed so I can see him from a different angle. “What size are you? Extra-large shirt? What about pants?”
When I get to his feet, I lift up the blanket a little. “Are you ticklish?” I move my fingers along the bottom of his left foot, but he doesn’t react. “I guess that’s a big ol’ no.” I continue walking around to his head. “Probably the best reason to wake up is to see the impending war between me and my dad. I bet he’s here to drag me home. I won’t let him, though. It should be an entertaining scene. You’ll be sad you missed it.”
I turn around, planning on going back to my chair, but am startled by my dad standing in the doorway.
“I’m not here to take you home.”
I’m sure the disbelief is apparent on my face.
“Coffee?” he asks, handing me a cup.
I take it from his hands and sit back in my chair. He pulls creamers and sugar packets out of his pocket and sets them on the table. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it.”
“Black.”
“Really?”
I nod and then he says, “Me, too. Maybe you got that from me.”
“Yes. I’m sure taste in coffee is genetic.”
He smiles and then sits down opposite me. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Being a lousy dad.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I can’t believe he said that. Or that he’s so aware of his less than stellar parenting skills.
“I’ve been so focused on my company the last few years … okay, the last ten years, that I’ve neglected you. I thought you needed a female role model in your life and I imagined Sheila would be a good mother-figure.”
“She’s a bitch.”
He cringes at my words, but doesn’t yell at me.
“I didn’t know what you were going through. She downplayed everything. She even told me Wilderness Therapy was just a precaution to help you deal with Jenna’s death. I had no idea things had gotten … so bad.”
By so bad, he must mean my cutting.
“Plus, I never knew how she treated you. You have to believe me, Kelsie.” He puts his hand on my knee and looks at me with pleading eyes. “Maybe I was in denial or being naïve. I don’t know … Eli
se came to me in June. She was worried because she hadn’t seen you around and told me that Sheila might not be offering the support you’d need after Jenna’s death. I brushed her off.”
“Elise?”
He nods and rubs his temples. “She tried to tell me about some of the things Sheila’s done in the past, but I didn’t believe her. It’s not until Dr. Sanchez came to me that it started to sink in.”
“What’d she say?”
“She told me how serious things were with you and how Sheila acted when she picked you up from Wilderness Therapy. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe she let you … cut …” he says the word tentatively, like he’s not sure how I’ll react.
“I cut, Dad. You might as well get used to saying it.”
He cringes again, but continues, “Sheila never told me you were hospitalized afterwards. You were in a psychiatric ward for a week and I didn’t even know!”
His eyes wander to my stitches and he rubs his temples again. “That was the final straw. When Dr. Sanchez said she wanted to come to the house to help you, I welcomed her with open arms. I wanted her to get to the bottom of things. I wanted her to tell me how much Sheila’s hurt you … how much I’ve hurt you by not being around.”
I ignore the last part and say, “Sheila’s been calling me nonstop since I’ve been here.”
He looks surprised. “Have you talked to her?”
I shake my head and then he asks for my phone. As soon as I hand it to him, he goes to the text messages and quickly types something. When he’s done, I look at the outgoing message: Leave my daughter alone! We’re through. You are out of our lives. If you don’t listen then I will take legal action and you will lose the gracious offer I’ve already made.
My lips curl up involuntarily as I read his words. “You wouldn’t lie about this, would you?” I ask, holding the phone up for him.
“No. I’m divorcing her. I can’t be married to someone who lies to me and treats my daughter the way she has.”
“Really?”
He nods and gulps. “We’ve had some other problems lately, too. If it was just that, I’d be willing to work through things, but now that I know how she’s been hurting you … I—I can’t allow it to go on any longer. I’m sorry I didn’t stop it sooner.” He looks at me with slumped shoulders and sad eyes. I’ve never seen him so emotional before.
I know I should be angry with him since he’s been absent for the majority of my life, but he looks so remorseful that I have to choke back tears and swallow the lump forming in my throat. He’s trying to make things better.
“What was the gracious offer?” I whisper, still not trusting my voice.
“Two million dollars and she never bothers us again.”
“Do you think she’ll take it?”
He nods and sits up straighter. This is logistics, which is a much more comfortable subject than how his wife, make that ex-wife, totally screwed up his daughter. “Money is all she ever cared about,” he says.
“And status. You just took that away from her. She’ll be the laughing stock of the country club.”
“I’m sure she’ll make up some story about me cheating on her. That’s fine. As long as she’s gone.”
I chew on my lip as I process all this information. On the one hand, I’m thrilled. Sheila is gone. For good. I’ll never have to deal with her again. I have to fight the urge to dance around the room at that news. On the other hand, I’m not sure where my dad and I stand. He hasn’t been a father to me for ages, but he’s here now.
“You like him a lot, huh?” he asks, cocking his head towards JC.
I nod.
“Tell me about him.”
“He’s wonderful.”
He takes a sip of coffee and stretches out his legs. “What makes him wonderful?”
“He …” I’m not exactly sure how to put my feelings into words. “He helped me when no one else could.” I lower my coffee cup to the table and take JC’s hand in mine again. “He saw something in me that I didn’t see …”
“You’re a good person, you know that, right?”
I shrug.
“What else makes him wonderful?”
“I think he’s smart and ambitious and has a lot of self-control. His childhood was very different from mine and he resisted things that would’ve been easy to give into. I’m sure I would’ve given into them. I’m not that strong.”
“I disagree, but what else?”
I stare at JC’s face, slack and thinner that a few weeks ago, but still one of the most handsome faces I’ve ever seen. With a grin, I say, “He’s hot. That doesn’t hurt.”
My dad chuckles and then asks, “Do you love him?”
I nod again. Now that I’ve admitted it, I can’t believe I was so clueless before. How did I not see that when we were together?
“More than any of your other boyfriends?”
Now it’s my turn to chuckle. He clearly doesn’t know my history with guys. “There’s not even a comparison. This is the first guy Jenna would’ve approved of.”
“Was she tough on your boyfriends?”
“You could say that.”
“I’m glad someone was looking out for you since I wasn’t around and Sheila was …”
“Useless?” I suggest.
He sighs and then takes a deep breath. “I’m really sorry, Kelsie. I failed you. The most important job of my life and I failed.”
He looks so sad that I want to tell him it’s okay, but it’s not. I agree that he failed and it’s been hard for me. I chew on my lip while he runs through something in his mind.
Finally, he says, “I’m going to fix it, okay?”
“Fix what?”
“Our relationship. I’ve taken a sabbatical from work. Six months to start, but I’ll extend it if I have to. You are my focus from now on.”
My eyes grow wide. I’m not sure I want that kind of attention.
“You look nervous,” he says with a smile.
“I—I’m kind of the independent type. I’m not sure I need you hovering over me.”
“I won’t hover. I’ll just be around. Someone you can talk to. We’ll have breakfast and dinner together every day. I’ll go watch you cheer. Is it football or basketball?”
“Both.”
“Great! I’ll go to all the games. I’ll help you with your college applications. I’ll take prom photos of you. I’ll volunteer on the PTA.”
I hold up my hands to stop him. “Okay, stop. You’re kind of freaking me out,” I say, but feel the tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. I can’t believe he wants to spend time with me.
“I love you Kelsie. I’m sorry I don’t say it more often.”
I nod and then give him a hug. It’s the first time I remember doing that since I was four.
Chapter 33: August 28-31
The next three days are miserable. JC is so close, yet still so far away. He doesn’t move at all. No flinching. No twitching. Nothing. I don’t understand how someone can lie that still for days at a time. The only thing that keeps me holding out hope is the warmth of his skin. It’s the one difference from Jenna.
My dad has been coming and going, usually showing up around meal times so we can eat together. Nana and JC’s mom continue to alternate day and night shifts, bringing in other family members regularly. I’m surprised that they all know who I am and hug me as soon as they enter the room. At this point, I smile and extend my arms automatically. I have to admit it must be nice to have such a large family. I’ve never had that. It’s only ever been me, my dad, and Sheila.
Marta visits occasionally, but she’s been spending more time with Kris who has started physical therapy with her prosthetic. I go up to her floor once a day while JC is being examined by doctors. She continues to have a positive attitude about both her life and JC’s. I welcome that because as soon as I go back to his side, I feel my optimism plummeting.
It’s now lunchtime so my dad appears with a pizza box.
&nbs
p; “Do you like pepperoni?” he asks, setting it on the table next to me. This has been how we spend much of our time, him asking questions to learn about his daughter. It’s sad that he doesn’t know such basic things about me, but at least he’s trying. I help him out by offering additional information whenever possible.
“Sure,” I say, opening up the lid. “My favorite is ham and pineapple, though.”
“Really?” he asks, picking up a slice. “I don’t think I would’ve ever guessed that.”
“JC’s favorite is pepperoni.”
“You had pizza while you were camping?”
Laughing, I say, “No. Sometimes we’d sit around and talk about what we missed most from home. He usually said his family, but one day it was pepperoni pizza.”
“What did you say?”
“Starbucks. Kris made excellent coffee, but we only got it every few days.”
“That makes me sad.”
“It made me very sad.”
He shakes his head and offers me a tiny smile. “That’s not what I mean. It’s sad that coffee was the one thing you missed while you were out there. Not your family or friends.”
“I didn’t really have any close friends left,” I mumble.
“And your family let you down.”
I chew the bite in my mouth, happy to have a reason not to talk. Once I swallow, I change the subject. “School starts next week.”
“It does? What day?”
“Wednesday.”
He bites his lip. “You should probably get back for that.”
“I don’t want to leave him.”
He looks out the window at the drizzle that’s been falling since last night. After a few moments, he turns back towards me and says, “Maybe I could get you a tutor. Like homeschooling or something. You’d have to do the work, though.”
“I’d do it.”
He nods and says, “I’ll look into it.”
Before we’re done with lunch, Marta walks into the room. “How’s everyone today?” she asks, walking next to JC and rubbing his arm.
“Same.”
“How are you, cariño?”