“What kind of things?” I probed. Mom shrugged her shoulders but I continued to stare her down until she answered.
“She was just different than other people.”
“In what way?” I continued to put on the pressure. “How was she different?”
“More intuitive,” I guess.
She was holding something back and I desperately needed to know what it was. “More info, please. What does that mean, more intuitive? She made better judgments?”
My mother hedged, and finally told me, deciding I wouldn’t buy into it. “She thought she was kind of psychic,” my mother said with a light little laugh as if she had just told a mildly amusing joke.
“My grandmother was psychic? Are you kidding me?” Well this certainly put a new light on things.
“She wasn’t psychic, she just thought she had a special ability to see some things before they happened.”
“What is that, you mean like clairvoyant?”
“No, not for real. She had a few dreams…”
The minute the word dreams exited her mouth, she knew it was a mistake and that I’d have my own interpretation.
She was right, I did.
Chapter Five
This was the part of the walk home that I hated. Up to this point I had Berkley and a few others to hang with, but this was my turn off. No other kids my age graced the deserted street. Forget kids my age, I would’ve settled for a sign of life.
Not many houses either, that’s what made it lonelier. Even the trees sporadically placed appeared too far away from each other. Large trees that bent toward the center of the road hung like umbrellas masking the sky. At a different time I would’ve thought the fall colors pretty. But the changing shades only reminded me the leaves would soon be falling. More death. I sulked and kicked at the fallen ones, blaming them for their fate.
As I approached the large blue Victorian I broke my stride and almost tripped over my own feet when I saw the sign on the lawn. A large cardboard sign, taped to the bottom of the mailbox. Kittens – free to good home.
It hadn’t been there when I left for school this morning. Trust me; that’s one thing I wouldn’t have missed.
My heart began to pound and I veered off the path toward home. How many years had I asked for a pet? Mom always had a cat when she was young. She went on and on about this one cat Tabby. Yeah, like can you believe she actually stuck the cat with that name? Anyway, she would dress it up in doll clothes. How sick is that? Talk about mistreatment of animals. She had more than one cat even. No such luck for me.
Dad was allergic. Cats, dogs, anything with fur. Real convenient. I remembered my mom saying that to my aunt once when I had asked for a Great Dane puppy after seeing my friend Angela’s.
Convenient or not it was true. Once one of mom’s friends showed up at the house with her Shih Tzu and insisted that since it had hair rather than fur it couldn’t bother Dad. Being a nice guy and an animal lover Dad crossed his fingers and let her in.
An hour later he looked like he’d been attacked by killer bees. His eyes were almost swollen shut and needless to say, she was never invited back. Especially after she had the nerve to say that Dad’s allergic reaction couldn’t have come from her pet. She blamed it on the shrimp cocktail. End result there – not a chance in hell for me. Call me destined to be petless.
They offered me an aquarium when I was six. I took it; I mean, it was the closest thing I was going to get to a pet. But let’s be real – you can’t hold them.
So when I saw the sign it was as if Dad looked down and said, okay kid, here’s your chance.
I walked with determination up to the front door and knocked. An old stout woman with white hair appeared wearing an apron. An apron! Can we say like time warp to back in the day?
“Hi, I saw your sign, about the kittens.” I held out my right hand, “I’m Salem.”
She gripped my hand and shook it firmly. “Vera Taunton,” she said in a thick syrupy voice and invited me in. Right at the edge of her kitchen was a little cordoned off area where beautiful little balls of fur frolicked. My breath caught and corny or not I made some sort of ‘aww’ sound.
“My Fluffy was a naughty girl and snuck out on me,” she said as she picked up the longhaired Calico mom and stroked behind an ear. She turned, gently placed the cat down a few feet away in an adjoining room, and shut the door. “Now here I am with a batch of kittens.”
She pointed to the litter as if I somehow could have missed them. Yeah, lady. Not on your life.
“Now what did your parents say? I hope you asked them first.”
For a second I was so afraid she’d toss me out I actually thought of lying. But deep down I knew I couldn’t and when I took a good look at her face, I knew she’d let me visit even if I couldn’t take one home.
“Not yet, I just saw the sign. We just moved in recently, not too far down the street. I thought if I could take a peek then it might be easier to describe a specific one.” I shrugged but was pretty sure she understood what I meant.
“Well go on in the pantry there and sit down with them. They’re ready to go and one found a new home this morning. The sign probably won’t do much good, but if they’re not gone in another week I’m going to take them over to the pound. Most people looking for pets go there first. I’m just nosy and like to place them myself. That way I know they’re going to people who’ll be good to them.”
I stepped over the gate that was blocking the pantry from the rest of the house and sat down in the middle of the old Formica floor. In spite of the fact that the flooring had lived longer than I did, it shined with a polish that had to come from hard work and constant effort.
My eyes darted from one kitten to another like nervous radar trying to determine which one to pick up first. “Do you know if they are males or females?” I asked. “That might matter to my mom.”
“They were only eight weeks old yesterday so it’s hard to tell and I don’t want to say the wrong thing, but a vet would know. If you find one you want, take it over to the pound and if it’s the wrong sex you can exchange it for another.”
I looked at her as if she were crazy. That would be like giving a mother a baby in the hospital and then telling her she could exchange it if it cried too much.
“As if I could give it up once I took it.” I knelt closer to the kittens and started petting them. One fluffy white one with striped paws and dark ears sauntered over, climbed on my lap and sprawled.
She chose me. Or he did. Either way I had to have this one. I picked up my purse, dug out my cell phone, and punched in Mom’s number. She picked up on the second ring. Before she could even manage a hello I blurted, “There’s no reason to not get a fur bearing animal now. No one in the house is allergic. I could understand while Dad was alive, but he’s not now, and I think a pet would help me adjust better, sort of like a security blanket.”
“Salem, please, take a breath,” she cut in. “What made you think of this all of a sudden?” Mom asked.
“I mean it Mom, all my life I wanted a pet and couldn’t have one because of Dad’s allergies. Now he’s dead and I have to live without him. I’d give up a pet in a minute to get him back, but I can’t, so the least you could do is help me deal with things by letting me have a pet…”
“Okay, you can have a pet,” she broke in, “but can it be a small one? Not a Great Dane? Okay? Can we talk about this? Dogs are a big responsibility. You have to walk them…”
“How about a cat?” Dead silence. I had her and I couldn’t help but gloat.
“A cat would be great. We can check the paper...”
“Already found one Mom. There’s a litter down the street that’s old enough to be adopted and one sort of chose me.” I held my breath. If there were going to be a protest, it would be now.
“Then it looks like I should stop and get kitten chow on the way home.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I squealed into the phone as I jumped up and down lik
e an idiot. With the first bit of joy I felt since the accident, I picked up my baby and shoved the phone at Mrs. Taunton. Breathless, I gasped, “My mom.”
She smiled and took the phone while I cuddled up to my fluffy bit of sanity.
I didn’t register the conversation. I only knew she said yes. I felt my eyes well up and I could hear Dad’s voice say, ‘When God closes a door, He always opens a window.’ This tiny animal was the window.
I stayed at Mrs. Taunton’s for another hour and a half until my mother picked us up. I was afraid if I left it wouldn’t be real. Luckily, Mrs. Taunton is a real nice lady and one who also wanted to unload her basket full of felines, hopefully without taking them to the pound.
Mom showed up with a little blue carrier and had the car packed with supplies. Dry food, wet food, bowls, litter, a litter box, a bed, and a couple of toys. Yeah, looked like maybe Mom was just as excited as I was.
It never occurred to me that Mrs. Taunton and my mom might know each other, although it should have. I was stunned to find out that not only did Vera Taunton remember my mother as a child, but she was also a friend of my grandmother.
When she said I could visit anytime, I decided to take her up on it. I wanted to know more about my grandmother, and let’s face it; the best place to learn about someone is not going to be from that person’s child.
If my grandmother really did have psychic ability, then her friend might have a different take on it than my mother did.
I also should have realized the kitten coup was a little too easy. When we got home my mother dropped the bomb. My nutso appointment was for the next day. She was giving me the pet and in return I would have to talk about my issues.
Issues. Interesting way to put it.
Just when I thought I had put one over on her, I find she really put one over on me. I mean, what was I going to do? Refuse? After getting the kitten? Yeah, right.
I would have agreed to anything. It didn’t matter. Who minds a head shrinker when you have an animal to love?
When I thought about it later I had to laugh. My mother and I were a lot alike. I used the death card to get the kitten and she used the kitten to get me to the shrink.
Manipulative. Both of us.
****
Now some things are just easier said than done. That’s how I felt when I stood outside Dr. Martin’s office shuffling my feet and trying to find a way to evaporate.
Instead the hot senior, Robby, the one who had stared at me in school a few weeks ago, opened the door and walked right into me.
In order not to fall over, I grabbed at his shirt and his hands went around my waist to steady me. I had to look straight up to see his face. He was at least six feet tall and way cuter close up. I felt weak like I’d been swimming too long in the hot sun. Then I noticed the most devastatingly beautiful blue eyes in the world were once again looking at me like I had two heads.
“Whoa, um, hi,” he said.
Okay not exactly the most literate of boys, but with that face who needed words.
Then it dawned on me. He was coming out of the shrink’s office. Evidently he also had ‘issues.’ Gorgeous or not, I wasn’t getting hung up on a loony tune.
“You’re here to see…” he looked toward the door.
“Dr. Martin. I’d better go in or I’ll miss my appointment.”
He took his hands away and I opened the door wishing I could take the last few minutes back. I’d much rather be held by a lunatic than share my soul with a shrink.
I looked back and he was still standing there, only now I sensed it wasn’t a two heads look, it was an ‘umm’ look and he was giving it to me.
Figures. A guy that good looking checking me out and he has to be missing some screws.
At least my luck is consistent.
Dr. Martin stood, walked over to me, and shook my hand. The wrong hand. The other one remained on the door and I continued to peer out at Robby who was still standing there.
Dr. Martin nodded to him then said to me, “You can shut the door and have a seat.”
“Sorry, window-shopping,” I said as I took a few steps then flopped down into the soft maroon leather chair opposite his desk. It was comfortable even if I wasn’t. “I suppose the local nuthouse isn’t the best place to go scooping out the region’s hotties.”
Now it was the good doctor’s turn to look at me like I had a problem bigger than he anticipated. I was surprised when the corner of his mouth turned into a hint of a grin.
“First, Salem, this isn’t a nuthouse and I wasn’t aware my son was one of the regions hotties. I’ll refrain from telling him. Wouldn’t want it to go to his head.”
I shrank down in the chair and prayed it’d swallow me whole while I tried to cover my face with my hands. For a girl with such good grades, I cornered the market on dumb.
I so should have been born tow-headed blond. There were times when the dim-witted things I uttered turned stupid into an art form. This was one of them.
I took a good look at the man in front of me. About six feet tall, dark hair graying at the temples, blue eyes. Yup, had I bothered to really see him when I walked in, I might have saved myself some embarrassment. Although they weren’t carbon copies, there was a family resemblance I would have easily noticed if I’d bothered to look.
“Could we start over?” I asked.
“I’d like that. Now your mother says you’re here at her insistence and would do just about anything to get out of counseling.”
I squirmed in my seat but didn’t bother to deny it. “That would be correct. This is simple. My father and I had an argument and he got killed a few minutes later. Guilt. If I had been sitting were I usually sat I would have been dead too. Guilt. I get it; I understand that there are accidents every day and some people die while others live. I get it. But it doesn’t change the fact that I still miss my dad. I want him and my old life back.”
“Good, understanding is half the battle, but it’s not all of it. Acceptance is the rest of it, and unfortunately, that takes time.”
“No offense, Doc, but I don’t have a degree, and I could’ve figured that out on my own.”
He smiled patiently as if it was part of his job, and I guess maybe it was. “Salem, some things are easier said than done.”
“I was just thinking the same exact thing before I knocked on your door...”
“Then you understand, my job is long term, it’s not a band-aide quick fix. You aren’t here for understanding. You’re a smart girl and you know the way of the world. I’m here for you to vent, for you to get your anger out so it won’t bottle up inside you and explode later.”
He looked past me toward the door and I turned to see if anyone was there. He had this strange sort of expression and I wondered for a moment if Robby had something bottled up inside. Stupid thought. I mean, if Dr. Martin couldn’t shrink his own kid what kind of luck would he have with me?
But Robby didn’t need a shrink, I did. And now he knew it. Of all the stinking luck.
“I don’t like feeling crazy and that’s how I feel about seeing a shr.. psychiatrist.”
“If it helps, I’m only a psychologist, which means I only treat little nuts. Major psychiatric problems go downtown.” He grinned at me and I knew I was going to like him in spite of his job title.
“Funny, a shrink with a sense of humor.”
“Laughter keeps us sane.”
“What about tears?”
A shadow crossed his face and for a split second I thought I recognized the agony of loss. “That too.”
“Then I must be very mentally fit.”
He nodded. “We don’t need to talk about your dad yet. Let’s just talk about the other things you’re going through. New school, new friends…”
“New part of the country.” I don’t know why I slipped that in, but lately it seemed to be significant. I mean, I really felt like I’d changed worlds.
“It’s a lot to deal with on top of everything else.”
Okay, so he said it, not me. Now as far as I was concerned Mom was fair game. “Then why did my mother add that to my plate?” I asked not trying to hide my anger.
“Why do you think she did it?”
“Oh good, the question with a question routine.” If he kept this up he’d get to see me at my worst.
“Answer?” He looked at me expectantly, like he knew I had the solution and he’d be willing to wait all day for me to spit it out.
“So we wouldn’t have to drive by the spot Dad was killed every day. Because she thought I couldn’t handle it.” The pitch of my voice rose with each word like the sound of a teakettle when it’s close to a boil.
“How was she handling it?”
“My mother?” I hadn’t thought about that. Maybe it was more than just to protect me. Maybe she couldn’t deal with it either.
I frowned. He got me to admit it to myself. I hadn’t been handling it. It ripped my heart out every time we drove past that intersection and it wouldn’t have mattered if we just moved to the next town.
We needed a fresh start, both of us.
“You’re doing a lot of thinking there.”
I nodded and accepted the inevitable. “So I come see you once a week and complain about whatever. So how long do we continue?”
His voice was smooth and even, no sign of emotion. “That depends.”
“On what?”
“How much complaining you do.” The deadpan way he spoke added humor to even the dullest things and I wondered how much like his father Robby was. Robby, oh crap.
“Please don’t say anything to Robby.”
“Doctor-patient privilege, remember?”
Of course he wouldn’t say anything. There was actually some sort of an oath or something. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Let’s see, scoping on your son, assuming since he was here he had to be a lunatic, insulting your ability, and anything else I might have done to offend you.”
“None taken.” He rose and I took that as my cue to go. “So same time next week?”
“I’ll be here.”
He reached across his rather large desk to shake my hand when I noticed there were two picture frames on his desk facing him. Even with a bend and reach I couldn’t see the pictures that had to be of Robby and Doctor Martin’s late wife. I know it was morbid curiosity, but I wanted to see what she looked like.
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