For All She Knows

by Beck, Jamie

  “Maybe this coming weekend,” I answered, smiling. I could not wait to have him under our roof.

  “So that means I can have my birthday sleepover finally!” She waved the poster board in the air.

  “One step at a time, Kim.” Sam closed her door and locked the car.

  “Hold my hand in the parking lot, Kimmy,” my mother said, grabbing her free hand.

  They walked ahead of Sam and me. We, however, did not hold hands. Sure, I was carrying a cake platter, but Sam didn’t even settle his hand on my back.

  “Is everything all right?” I muttered quietly.

  “Fine.” He shrugged. “Just preoccupied.”

  What could be more important than Carter’s progress? With the prior weeks’ accumulated apprehension wedged between us, I wouldn’t push for answers he didn’t offer. The inability to share in any joy about our son’s progress hurt, though.

  By now I knew nearly everyone at the center, so I flashed friendly smiles and introduced Marcus, a guard, and Emily, a therapist, to Kim and my mother as we wound our way through the building to Carter’s room. His therapy would end in fifteen minutes, which gave us time to hang the sign and “hide” to surprise him.

  “Can I tape the poster in the window, Mom?” Kim raced to the window, hauling herself up onto a chair.

  “Careful, Kimmy,” my mother said.

  I set the cake on the table and was fishing for the roll of tape in my purse when suddenly Carter came into the room on his walker with Leron trailing behind. My son’s splotchy face was the first sign of trouble.

  “You’re back early!” My grip tightened around the tape as my mother’s nervous gaze bored through me.

  “What’s going on?” Carter froze.

  Kim held up her sign. “Mom made cake because you’re walking and coming home soon.”

  He grunted, finishing the route to his bed before shoving the walker aside and collapsing on his mattress. “You shouldn’t have assumed that.”

  “Isn’t this nice? Carter, cut yourself and your sister some cake while I chat with your folks,” Leron said in his upbeat way, then gestured to Sam and me to follow him into the hall, where we stood about a foot apart. “Don’t be alarmed, but Carter had a little trouble today.”

  Don’t be alarmed? Naturally, my entire body tensed. I’d been so hopeful—more the fool. Dread strained my words. “What kind of trouble?”

  “I pushed him hard. He struggled and couldn’t quite take steps on his own yet. Don’t worry, though. The only thing hurt was his pride. I told him it was normal, but he shut down, so we ended the session early.”

  I brought both hands to my face. My son’s disappointment—his frustration—created a dull ache in my chest. “Is this a bad sign?”

  “No. It’s just hard to rebuild strength and balance when you’ve got nerve damage. I’m confident we’ll get him to a near-full recovery over time if he doesn’t give up.”

  Finally, the kind of certainty I’d been craving. The relief working its way through my limbs felt foreign and unreal because my hopes had been dashed too many times in recent weeks. “That’s great news.”

  “How much longer will he be here, do you think?” Sam asked, his expression still uneasy.

  “It’s hard to say. We were aiming for a week or so, but it’d be best if he could stand on his own before we release him. His progress will depend on his attitude.”

  “I’m sorry he was rude,” I said.

  Leron waved my apology off. “It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with a moody teen. But Carter’s attitude has taken a turn recently, which could slow his recovery. Dr. Spotts is digging into it during their sessions, but maybe you two could find some answers or inspire new motivation.”

  My stomach felt like a fist beneath my skin. Dr. Spotts was the psychologist working with Carter.

  I’d noticed my son’s recent quietude—his putting me off more—but when I pressed, he’d told me he was preoccupied with schoolwork. I should’ve dug deeper. “We’ll do our best.”

  “No doubt. See you tomorrow.” Leron waved and strolled away.

  “Grace.” Sam caught my arm before we returned to Carter’s room. “Let’s make a game plan.”

  He’d finally touched me, but not with affection. Another slam to my soul. “What do you mean?”

  “Let’s not run at Carter with a bunch of questions right now.”

  As if I’d planned to grill him in front of his sister and grandmother. “Of course not, but I’d like to get back in there.”

  Sam gestured for me to go first and then closed the door behind us for privacy.

  “No one cut the cake?” I smiled, pretending that things were going according to plan rather than acknowledging that Kim was sitting on a chair, hugging her knees, while my mother sat on Carter’s bed, rubbing his shins.

  “There’s nothing to celebrate.” Carter crossed his arms, tears welling in his eyes.

  My gut tightened. My mother made room for me on the bed.

  “Sure there is, bud,” Sam said. “You’ve made steady progress since checking in, and Leron’s certain you’ll be walking on your own. So what if today’s attempt didn’t go exactly as you hoped? One day at a time . . . that’s all you can do.”

  I nodded, counting on Sam’s optimism to work its magic.

  “It’s not just one day. It’s every day. I’m sore and tired and weak, like some freak show . . . It’s so embarrassing. And the tutor isn’t as good as my teachers. I miss my classrooms and friends and the house and your food. I miss our family being normal instead of stressed, and now I’ve let everyone down again.” Once the dam broke, he kept crying. Big cracking sobs that somehow strangled my throat. “I just want to be normal. What if Leron’s wrong? What if I never walk without help?”

  The edge of desperation in his voice made me want to scoop him up and run away. Gritting my teeth to keep myself from crying, I rubbed his shoulder and kissed his head. “Let it all out, honey. All the pain and worries are normal. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

  My mother went to sit with Kim, who’d begun crying in the face of her brother’s pain. I held my son for what seemed like an hour before his sobs dissolved into sporadic hiccups. Sam’s and my gazes locked for a shared moment of guilt and sorrow.

  Self-reproach pricked my conscience like hundreds of needles. Not only had I let him go to that damn party, but he’d now taken on my worries and sensed our marital trouble. All these years I’d thought I was so much better than my own mother. But the first real crisis in my family had me crumbling and spinning in circles much like she had done.

  By the time Carter had finished crying, his face was swollen.

  I poured him a large glass of water. “Stay hydrated, honey.”

  Begrudgingly he took it and chugged about a third of its contents before setting it aside.

  I wiped my cheeks dry and glanced back at my mom and Kim. “It’s been a long month for all of us. Let’s celebrate being together for the first time in a while. Mom, can you take Kim to the cafeteria and bring back a little ice cream to go with the cake?” I wanted Kim out of the room so we could have a few minutes alone with Carter.

  “Good idea, Mom.” Kim’s eyes lit up as she slid off my mother’s lap. She crossed the room to give Carter a hug. “Don’t be sad. I’ll get vanilla and chocolate.”

  Carter closed his eyes, accepting her hug, before she followed my mother out of the room. He looked at me, heartbreak written all over his face. Would that look, which I’d seen many times since finding him on Mimi’s basement floor, ever stop haunting my dreams?

  “Sweetie, the uncertainty must seem like a big black hole. I’m sorry it’s so hard, but you can do this. And whatever Dad and I can do to help make it easier, say the word.”

  His face crumpled again. “I’m lonely.”

  The only thing worse than the pain in his voice was my own helplessness to make any of it better. I would sleep here with him every night if I could, but even
that wouldn’t restore the life he’d lost. “Would you like me to call Mrs. Daniels and Mrs. Shin to see if Ted and Ollie can come up this week?”

  Carter shrugged.

  Sam pulled a chair up to Carter’s bed. “Bud, does us cutting off communication with Rowan have anything to do with your being so down?”

  “A little.” He averted his gaze.

  I worried my lip as more guilt piled on.

  Sam said, “I think it’s okay for you to text him as long as you promise not to discuss anything related to the night of the party.”

  I barely had time to react to that pronouncement when Carter shrugged and said, “We’ve already talked about that night.”

  “You have?” I raised my brows, heart thumping. “When?”

  “When he visited.” Carter stared at his lap, picking at the blanket and then glancing at us, as if afraid we might blow up. My body grew cold, but given what had happened today, I wouldn’t express shock or disappointment. Carter needed to be able to tell us things without worrying about how we would handle them.

  “Did he bring it up?” I asked evenly, despite Sam making eyes at me to stop.

  “No. He was upset by all this stuff in here, so I told him not to feel bad because I could’ve left the party when things got out of hand.” In the face of my silence, he added, “You and Dad always tell us to be honest and have integrity.”

  My pulse pounded. Dear God, he’d admitted negligence. That could bar any recovery. Mimi hadn’t mentioned Carter’s confession. Maybe he’d said those things to Rowan while she was with me in the cafeteria. Would Rowan have thought to mention it to her?

  What did it say about me that I hoped he hadn’t?

  I struggled to keep my expression blank. It’d break Carter if he thought he might’ve cost us our chance at getting reimbursed. If he realized that, without some financial recovery, we might have to raid his college fund to pay for his ongoing care.

  Sam squeezed Carter’s shoulder, offering up the first smile he’d worn all day. “It’s never wrong to be truthful.”

  Sweat beaded all over my scalp. “Dad’s right, honey, but in this case, I disagree with your conclusion. Just because you feel that Rowan had no responsibility doesn’t make it so. And attending that party doesn’t make this your fault. You didn’t drink. You didn’t antagonize anyone. You’re not responsible for what happened. Please promise you won’t talk about that night with anyone, okay? That’s really important, Carter.”

  Already my mind raced ahead, wondering whether Rowan had shared Carter’s confession with John and Deshaun. Roni and Jordan wouldn’t hesitate to use it against him.

  I blinked to clear my blurry vision, choosing to change the subject. My son was lonely and missing normal things, some of which I could rectify. “What if I ask Principal Davies about virtual classrooms so you can connect with school friends and classroom discussions?”

  He frowned. “I don’t want everyone to see me like this.”

  Sam jumped in. “No one would think less of you, and you might really enjoy the change of pace, so give it a little more thought. You could sit in a chair instead of the bed during class time.”

  “Maybe.”

  My poor baby. How would he cope with being othered if he couldn’t walk without assistance? How would his access to things be more difficult? How would life with chronic pain change him? The endless list of concerns embittered me, especially because I couldn’t discuss any of it with anyone.

  My mom and Kim returned too soon, stopping our conversation. I retreated to a corner of the room to think while Sam cut into the cake. All the excitement I’d felt icing it this morning had evaporated. Not only hadn’t Carter taken solo steps, but he also might’ve shot a big hole straight through the center of a financial recovery, too.

  “I want a big piece,” Kim demanded as she scooted onto the end of Carter’s bed.

  “Oh, Kimmy, that’s too much. You’ll get sick,” my mother said.

  “It’s fine,” Sam said, slicing a piece for Carter while Kim dumped some ice cream on her plate.

  My mother then came to stand near me. Her piteous stare made me itchy.

  “Honey, things have been tense since you picked me up. Sam is so quiet,” she murmured.

  “We’re under a lot of stress.” I wouldn’t begin confiding in my mother now, or here. Especially knowing that she, like Sam, would prefer to whitewash everything and pin our hopes on prayers.

  “I know, I know.” She patted my shoulder. The way she cupped her cheek told me she had more to say.

  “What, Mom?”

  “Maybe it’d help if you did some things around the house like you used to. You know, brighten it with flowers. Play with Kimmy, even though you’re tired. Find a way to reconnect with Sam. Your marriage is the bedrock of your family. You have to make it as important as everything else or you’ll all suffer.”

  If I’d had a glass in my hand, it might’ve broken into a million pieces. “I’m doing my best.”

  “Of course you are.” She shook her head. “I wish we could turn back time.”

  She left the rest unsaid, but I knew she was thinking about the school board hearing. Or maybe the fact that Sam and I had let Carter go to that party. Or even all the way back to the mistakes we’d both made with Margot.

  “I know you mean well, but this isn’t helping, and now really isn’t the time.”

  “I’m sorry. I want to help. If there’s anything you need, please ask.” My mother forced a smile, but the weight of her concern reflected in her eyes. I ached because of our strained relationship, as well as my deteriorating one with Sam, and even with my kids. I should’ve known better than to plan a surprise—or to let my hopes rise.

  Sam remained beside Carter, doing his best to stay engaged with both kids. I listened as Kim peppered her brother with questions about other kids at the facility, but Carter’s confession to Rowan kept breaking through my thoughts. Surely the lawyers could neutralize an offhand remark by a teen who was trying to make his friend feel better.

  I was putting Kim’s clean clothes in her drawers when Sam’s voice bellowed from downstairs. “Grace, we need to return Mr. Bergen’s call soon.”

  “Coming!” I closed the dresser drawer, taking a deep breath. Sam and I hadn’t had a second to ourselves since leaving Carter’s side this afternoon. We’d come home after dropping my mother off, at which point Sam caught up on client work while I prepared dinner and did laundry. He’d shot our lawyers an email earlier, suggesting we talk ASAP. Other than that, I had no idea what was going through his mind when I finally took a seat in front of his desk.

  Sam’s expression held all the worry he’d covered with optimism these past several weeks. It hurt to realize how much better we might’ve helped each other through this if we’d allowed ourselves to be more vulnerable. “Let’s get this over with.”

  I sat in silence while Sam told Mr. Bergen about Carter’s emotional and physical setbacks, which would increase the medical care costs, as well as Carter’s slipup with Rowan.

  “I’m sorry to hear all this. Despite your reasons for wanting to let him text with that boy, I strongly advise against it. Kids don’t always realize when they’ve done or said something that can hurt a case, so let’s not take more chances.” Mr. Bergen’s voice boomed over the speakerphone.

  Sam shook his head almost as if he were angry at the lawyer. I shared his desperation to make our son happy, yet wasn’t sure we could trust Carter not to further damage the suit.

  I stopped myself from incessantly rubbing my thighs. “Is our case dead in the water?”

  “I’ll get a better sense of where things stand when we get answers to the complaint. If they raise his admission, it’ll put more pressure on us to seek a settlement.”

  Once again, justice—real justice—might elude us. I wanted to stomp around and throw something. “Can’t you argue that it was a throwaway comment from a kid who was trying to make his friend feel better?”


  “Sure, but we can’t control what a jury will decide.” Mr. Bergen coughed on the other end of the line. “If we’re lucky, maybe the other boy won’t think to mention it.”

  Sam put his finger to his mouth in a silent plea for me to keep quiet. “We understand and will wait to see how they respond.”

  “Okay. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks. Bye.” Sam punched off before I could raise another objection. “Grace, I know it’s been a rough day, but he’s giving us his best advice. If he thinks we should settle, then we should even if it doesn’t satisfy your need for revenge.”

  Revenge? My heart splintered like fine crystal from the blow of Sam’s harsh words and judgments. It was as if he didn’t know me at all, which heaped more pain on my already-broken spirit.

  “Stop calling it revenge. I’m allowed to be furious that those boys got plea deals and Mimi gets a new boyfriend, but Carter is crying himself to sleep at night in Baltimore, frustrated by and afraid of his own body, and you and I have to liquidate investments.” My body heated at the idea that Mimi and Officer Martinez might be canoodling while my marriage was falling apart.

  Sam tipped his head. “Not long ago you would’ve been thrilled for Mimi to have met someone decent. She’s still the friend she’s always been, Gracie. Look at what she’s done with the food and the fundraiser, and even with taking Rowan to see Carter.”

  I didn’t want Mimi to live her life alone, but I detested how her good fortune came from my son’s injury.

  Sam prodded. “She loves you and Carter. Come to think of it, I doubt she’ll go out of her way to share Carter’s confession if she believes we’ll settle within her policy limits.”

  I scowled, snapping my head up at that pronouncement. “How can you say that after what she said to me in the cafeteria?”

  He shook his head above a shrug. “She probably snapped at you because you hurt her with the legal threat, but she’s a businesswoman who understands how insurance works. I doubt she wants to rob Carter of all compensation. You might want to think about that when you’re making decisions about how to treat her.”