by Annie Jocoby
I got up and got some Kleenex, and then blew my nose. “How am I going to get through this? How am I supposed to act normal? Forget about going back to work.” I shook my head. “I can’t go back to work, not when this is happening. I need to take a leave of absence.”
Nick stood up. “You can’t do that. We’re right in the middle of some of the biggest projects of our careers. We can’t just up and tell our clients that you’re not going to be working on these buildings. They’re relying on you.”
I blinked my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You’re going to put work over our family? Over our daughter?” I felt the anger rising inside me, and I just blurted out something that was below the belt. I knew it when I was saying it, but the words just came tumbling out. “Isn’t your workaholicism what got Abrianna killed?”
Jack just stared at me when I said that. Abrianna’s death was something that was rarely discussed. I knew the details – Nick was working all the time and he and his first wife, Rielle, were fighting about that. While they were fighting, Abrianna had slipped out the door and ended up in the street in front of a car. The car hit her, killing the little girl instantly.
Nick also stared at me, and I looked away. I couldn’t stand the intensity of his stare. I really couldn’t stand the stare when he was upset with me, as he very clearly was at that moment. “Jack, I’m so sorry, but I think that you need to leave.” Nick didn’t look at Jack when he was speaking.
I looked at Jack desperately, not wanting him to leave, because I knew that Nick was going to verbally harangue me after Jack left. But Jack just shook his head, got his coat, and left quietly.
“Sit down,” Nick ordered, pointing to the sofa. “Now.”
The look on his face was unlike any look I had ever seen from him. His blue eyes were intense, and his left cheek had a twitch. His face started to get red, and then it started to get very, very pale. I closed my eyes and pictured gathering storm clouds, and felt the wind whip up. There was soon going to be a deluge of thunder and lightning, right there in the living room, and I had to prepare myself for it. Nick looked, for all the world, like he was about to explode at any second.
I sat down and Nick stood in front of me. “I don’t know what got into you that you would bring up my daughter and imply that it was my fault that she was killed.” And then he looked out the window. His facial expression changed from anger to defeat. He shook his head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it was my fault that I lost her. I was a shitty husband, although I had tried to be a good dad.”
I stood up and put my arm around his shoulders. “Nick, don't beat yourself up about that. It was a fight. It could have happened to anyone.”
“Scotty, I know what you’re saying. I know that you feel that you’re going to have to spend every waking second with Addison. But that’s not only not realistic, but it’s not going to do any good. All that’s going to do is cause you to obsess. You need something to take your mind off of what’s going on. You do. Addison only wants a normal life, as normal as possible. How is it going to feel normal to her when you’re home all the time? And what are you going to do if you’re home full-time – take up knitting? Because Addison’s going to go back to school and do all the things that she used to do. What are you going to do when she’s not around?”
“Nick, you didn’t address what I said to you. Abrianna’s death is not your fault.” I had a feeling, after seeing how Nick reacted when I said that shitty thing to him about his workaholicism contributing to Abrianna’s death that I had touched a raw nerve. I wanted him to address it, but it seemed that he had stuffed it down.
Nick finally looked defeated. He sat down next to me and put his head in his hands. And then he started to cry. I closed my eyes, feeling terrible that I had brought him to this. He had seemed so brave before, and now I was seeing, finally, what was roiling beneath his façade. All the pain, all the grief that he had experienced in his life had brought him to this point. He was finally dealing with it, dealing with how he felt when he lost his daughter and his sister so many years ago.
We held each other, both of us crying. We had no idea what the future held, but I was sure of one thing – we were going to face it together.
Nine
Nick
Scotty and I managed to, somehow, get through the last few days without completely breaking down. I even convinced her that she had to act normal, for the good of everyone – Addison, me, Chloe, Olivia, even Jack. Not that I was having an easy time trying to act normally. I wasn’t. I didn’t let on, but I was thinking about Michelle, night and day, and silently obsessing that the same thing was going to happen to Addison.
But I had promised Scotty that we weren’t going to jump to any conclusions until Addy had her biopsy results. We had taken her in to get her biopsy, and we were now in Dr. Michaels’ office, waiting to speak with him. I tried to concentrate on anything at all that would take my mind off of what was going on, because I was afraid of breaking down and crying. That was the last thing that Addy and Scotty needed, so I sat and stared at a crystal vase that was on the far side of the good doctor’s office.
Finally, he came in. “Okay,” he said. “I got Addison’s biopsy results back.” He cleared his throat. “She has what we call an Osteosarcoma. This is a tumor that very commonly occurs in the knee and upper arm. In Addison’s case, of course, the tumor is on her knee. Now, I’d like to refer to you to an oncologist so that you can know better what the next steps are going to be. I would suggest that you give permission for Addison to have what is called a PET scan. This is a scan where there is a small amount of radioactive glucose that is injected into a vein, and it’s very effective to see if the cancer has spread through other organs in the body. If it hasn’t, and it’s localized, then we have a good chance to beat this with chemotherapy, radiation and surgery.”
I squeezed Scotty’s hand, and I saw that she was squeezing Addison’s hand. I swallowed hard. “Okay, go ahead and do that PET scan.”
“I need to get you in touch with a specialist,” he said. “And we can go from there.”
At that, he gave us a card for one Dr. Jensen, whose card indicated that he was an oncologist. “Thank you,” I said to Dr. Michaels. “We’ll call this Dr. Jensen right away.”
Then we left.
In the car, Scotty made an appointment with Dr. Jensen, and Addison was in the backseat, not saying a word. I kept looking back at her, glancing in my rear-view mirror. I was looking for any kind of indication that she was about to fall apart. I didn’t get that from her, though. I got that she was thinking about what was going on.
“Addy,” I said to her. “What’s on your mind? What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about my soccer game. It’s tomorrow. I haven’t told the team yet. I haven’t even told my coach. I don’t know what’s going to happen. I hope that they let me play.”
“Of course they’ll let you play. Why wouldn’t they?”
Addison shrugged. “Dad, I don’t know. There might be some kind of liability. What if I broke my leg right there on the field? That might happen, you know. Then the coach will be in trouble. Or I’ll be in trouble for not saying anything.”
“Well, let them know that you have cancer, so that way there’s not a question if something should happen to you on the field. I'll have a talk with your coach. Hopefully there won’t be an issue with you being allowed on the field.”
Addison shrugged her shoulders and continued to look out the window. “I hate this. I hate this drip, drip, drip, drip of information. Just tell me what is going to happen, so I can deal with it.”
“Hey,” I said to her. “I know that you’re scared. But we’re going to do all that we can. We have to go through the process and do everything that the doctor says. We’ll have all the answers we need soon enough.”
What I didn’t want to tell her was that I was as scared as she was. I didn’t want to tell her that I was having nightmares abo
ut losing her. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, and Scotty would have to talk me down. The last thing I wanted was for her to see my fear, so I made sure that she never would.
We got home, and Addison immediately went to her room. Scotty went into the living room after pouring a glass of wine. She was drinking more than I liked, but I understood why. That was how she dealt with severe issues. I wouldn’t be worried about her drinking so much, except that alcoholism ran in her family. Her mother was still on the wagon, miraculously, but I think that Loretta white-knuckled it the whole way. Over the years, there were periods when Scotty drank a bit much, but I never said anything, because these periods were brief.
I made the decision not to say anything to her this time, either. I was also concerned with the fact that she wanted to take a leave of absence from work. We had been talking about this, at length, and Scotty seemed determined to do it. She reasoned that she couldn’t handle the stress at home and the stress at work. I tried to understand this, too, although it was difficult. For me, work was my lifeline. While I was immersed in my various projects, my mind wasn’t obsessively on Addison. If I didn’t have work, I would be going absolutely crazy. Plus, I felt like I was in control when I was at work. With Addison, I had no control at all.
I went into the living room to join Scotty. “Let’s order in for dinner, huh? The Chinese place around the corner?”
Scotty shook her head. “I’m so sorry, there’s no way I can eat right now.”
I bit my tongue. It was starting to worry me that Scotty wasn’t eating, yet she was drinking a lot. That couldn’t be good. It was bad enough that I wasn’t sleeping much, and Scotty wasn’t either. But I tried very hard to take care of myself, health-wise, because I knew that I needed to. If there was one thing that I hard learned over the years is that, when you’re under stress, you need to make sure that you take care of yourself.
“Honey, you need to eat.” I took her glass of wine away. “You can have this back when you share some Moo Goo Gai Pan with me. And not before.”
Scotty just shook her head. “I can’t eat. I’ll vomit. My stomach is in knots. Eating is the last thing that I can think about.”
I let out a breath. “Scotty, I don’t want to push you, but I feel that I need to. You’re taking a leave of absence from work, you’re drinking seemingly all the time, and you’re not eating. You’re going to turn into your mother, and that’s the last thing that I want to see.”
Scotty looked away. “So this is what it’s come down to? I hit below the belt when I said that your workaholicism might be responsible for Abrianna’s death, and now you’re accusing me of being like my mother.” She narrowed her eyes and got up to go to the kitchen. I followed her and watched as she poured herself a glass of whiskey, straight up. With a defiant look on her face, she drank down the entire glass and made herself another one.
“Scotty, I’m warning you…” I suddenly was having a problem not strangling her. Not literally of course, but I was feeling like Addison was not only out of control, but Scotty was too. That was hardly fair to me – I was essentially being asked to not only take control of Addison’s illness and her treatment, but also I was going to have to somehow keep Scotty from completely falling apart.
“You’re warning me what?” She downed the second drink and already started to slur her words. “What? Go ahead, tell me what’s on your mind. Dad.”
She’s baiting you, Nick. Don’t let her do it. All my knock-down drag-out fights with Rielle flashed through my brain. I didn’t want to go there with Scotty, too.
Scotty was standing there, and she had her hands on her hips. She started to pour another drink and I knocked the bottle of whiskey out of her hands. “That’s enough. You’ve had enough.”
She shook her head. “You know, I never thought that I would say this. But I really understand why mom drank. I do. Life is just so shitty. So shitty. You have to do something to get through it.”
I went over to her and put my arms around her. She cried, but then she walked away from me. “Scotty, you can’t do this. You can’t completely fall apart like this. You have to be strong.”
“Strong.” She shook her head. “I’ve been strong my entire life. I’ve had to go through the worst nightmares that anybody can ever survive. I’ve had to fight for everything I have. And I’m tired, Nick. I’m tired of fighting. All I want to do is take this bottle of whiskey and get into bed. That’s all that I want to do. I’m just tired.”
I had the temptation to try to shake some sense into her. I wanted to yell and scream and somehow get her to face reality. But I couldn’t. I knew that if I did what I wanted to do, it would do nothing but push her even further away. “Scotty, maybe it’s time you started seeing Adele again.” Adele Holloway was Scotty’s shrink for many years. I credited Adele with getting Scotty to where she was finally able to face her past and get on with things.
Scotty just nodded. She looked like a little girl, standing there in the kitchen, tinier than ever. She always had a tendency to be as slight as a sparrow, and it was always a challenge for me to make sure that she ate enough to be truly healthy. Now, she had lost weight, and it showed. I went over to put my hands on her hips to bring her to me, and I could feel her bones.
“I’m tired, Nick. I’m really, really tired. I never thought that I could be this exhausted.”
“I know,” I said, putting my hand in her hair. I didn’t really know what more to say to her. I wanted to tell her how unfair it was that she apparently was going to put this whole thing on my shoulders, because she was checking out. At the same time, I knew that such accusations wouldn’t do any good. The only thing that would do any good at that point, maybe, was her straightening things out with her therapist. “Let me make you an appointment to see Adele,” I said, getting out my phone.
I called Adele, told her that Scotty had an emergency and needed to speak with her. I was able to make an appointment for Scotty to see Adele the next day.
“Okay,” I said, going over to Scotty. “I have an appointment for you. It’s all set for tomorrow at 3. Would you like me to go with you?”
“No. Somebody has to hold down the fort at work.” Scotty hung her head. “I thought my nightmares were behind me. When I married you and I had those three beautiful girls, I thought that my life would just keep going great. I thought that I slammed the door on all those things that ripped out my soul. Now this.”
I sighed. There were still no words. How could I possibly have words? I didn’t know, yet, what we were up against. All that was known was that our little girl had an Osteosarcoma. We didn’t know if the cancer had spread, or if she was going to lose her leg. We really didn’t know much. If I knew something, I could give Scotty some kind of encouragement. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to bullshit her, either. She would see right through that.
So, I did what I did best. I just held her and let her cry.
And kept her away from the alcohol.
For now.
Ten
Scotty
Nick was convinced that I needed to see Adele. Maybe he was right. I didn’t really know. All that I knew was that my brain was completely confused and scrambled. When I woke up in the morning, any morning, it was as if there was a veil that was covering my mind. That was the only way to describe it. I was foggy and always exhausted, no matter how much sleep I got the previous night.
Nick didn’t help. I mean, he did, but he didn’t. I appreciated his strength, but he woke up in the middle of the night, almost every night, in a cold sweat. Even if I was able to sleep, when Nick did that, I would wake up as well. Then, I would end up not being able to get back to sleep. I would stare at the ceiling, counting the little popcorn mounds on it. Nick would be able to get right back to sleep, but I never could. My thoughts were obsessively on Addison. I could only think of her.
In the meantime, I could see myself slowly going under. Well, I wasn’t slowly going under – I was doing so rapidly. I felt as if I had been swep
t out to sea, so I was in the middle of the ocean with nowhere to go. I could tread water, but that would exhaust me, and I would end up going beneath the waves where I would either drown or be eaten by sharks. Right now, though, I was still treading water, but I knew that I wouldn’t be in a few days. All that I would need would be some enormous setbacks, and I would go under.
I was in bed with Nick, who was snoring next to me. I got out of the bed and softly crept down the hall. I surreptitiously opened Addison’s door, expecting to see her fast asleep. Instead, she was sitting up in bed, her laptop next to her. She appeared to be looking something up. She saw me and shut the laptop. “I’m going to bed,” she said. “I know I have a long day at school tomorrow.”
I took a deep breath and went into her room. It was a typical teenagers bedroom – there were pictures of her and her friends on her dresser, photos of the groups that she belonged to as they posed on ski slopes and spring breaks. On the walls were paintings that she made in art class. She was surprisingly good – she definitely didn’t get her artistic inclinations from me. While I could draw up a blueprint with precision, I never was able to paint. My creativity in my brain just didn’t work the way that it seemed to for artists. Her curtains were purple, which was her favorite color, but they seemed to clash just a bit with her walls, which were a different shade of purple than the curtains.
I pictured her the way that she was 10 years ago, and pictured this room the way that it looked then. I saw the canopy bed that she had loved so much. The canopy bed had long since been replaced by a regular bed with wooden posters - she felt that canopies were for babies. That made me sad. I saw the stuffed animals that were on that canopy bed – Mr. Wingle, which is what she named the teddy bear with the tuxedo; Mrs. Wingle, the little stuffed dog that was “married” to Mr. Wingle; and Maddy-Tattie, a little stuffed turtle. I saw all her little books that she was just learning to read – Fun With Dick and Jane, and Winnie the Pooh.