by Naomi Niles
“That’s not true.”
“Then why don’t you want to see him?”
“Because I care about him. Do you know what he was doing when I got to the hospital?”
“I can imagine.”
“No, you can’t. You didn’t see the sweet little kid that would run around the yard hitting people with sticks or the teenager that was getting straight As before he started smoking weed. Half the reason I left was because I had to watch him degrade. You know he moved onto hard drugs?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“When he comes, he’s going to be nodding out. Do you know what that means? Gillian, do you know what he’s doing?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“So, before you judge me-”
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at the front door. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. I was in the navy when they did, but my mother called me to tell me all about it before it happened, and of course, she called me up crying each time he refused to go to rehab. There were overdoses, close calls, and the occasional fight that ended up putting him in hospital. Now, he was living in his van. He was lucky he hadn’t been caught driving around with drugs in the car. Though, part of me thought that prison would do him some good.
Gillian reached up to open the door. I tensed up, and she looked back at me. Suddenly, she threw her arms around me, and I knew that I could face this. She was there. She always knew how to make me laugh and keep my thoughts from taking a dark turn.
“What’s happening?” I asked her. “Is he here?”
“No, Michael’s picking him up.”
“How long have you known about this?”
“Two days. Michael told me.”
“Jesus... Distract my mother, will ya? If she starts bawling, tell her you want to show her something outside.”
She nodded her head. “Okay.” She pulled away and got out. I followed her to the front door and watched as my mother bent back the blinds, then ran up out to meet us. She noticed my mood immediately. “You wouldn’t have come if I told you.”
“No, I wouldn’t have, and I don’t appreciate this at all.”
“Come on, Carrie. Let’s get the chicken marinated.”
My dad was sitting in the living room watching an old World War II documentary. I plopped down across from him, and he handed me a beer. “Put that shit away,” I said.
He sighed and got up to put it in the fridge. “This is some bull,” he said when he sat back down.
“You’re telling me. You know Mom lied to get me here?”
“If I had my way, they’d drag him off in a straitjacket. He’s been living outside since you got here. I won’t let him in the house.”
I laughed.
“It’s not funny.”
My mom ran out of the kitchen. “We’re just having some food, that’s all. I don’t want either of you telling him a thing.”
My father burped. “Go get me another beer, would you?”
She walked up and snatched his beer from him, then looked him up and down. “You’re drunk. Go upstairs to brush your teeth and change your shirt. It’s stained.” She walked back into the kitchen.
“I guess I don’t have any choice.” My dad walked upstairs.
Gillian came out and sat down next to me. She took my hand. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not worried.” I kissed her on the cheek. “I just want to get through this without a huge disaster.” I looked back at my mom. She was sweating and rushing around the kitchen. The chicken was done, and she was making three different kinds of salad all at once. “I’ll be right back.”
I didn’t want to intrude her space. She was working, and I knew she’d want to make it look like she had things under control. But I had to do something. “Mom…” I leaned against the island.
“Just a second.” She was hacking away at a pile of cooked potatoes.
“Mom.”
She poured the pile into her massive mixing bowl, then started on another pile.
“Mom.”
She kept hacking away.
“Mom!”
“What?” She dropped the knife and leaned forward. I swooped in and wrapped my arms around her. She crumbled and her head fell against my shoulder. “I just can’t watch it, Dwayne. I can’t.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know. He could die.” She stared up at me with her tear-stained cheeks. “He needs help, and you don’t care.”
“Of course, I do. That’s why I’ve stayed away. I can’t watch.”
She gave me a bitter look and turned back to the potatoes, but something in her was broken. Her fingers were fumbling around, and she was holding the knife crooked. “He’s ready. I know he is.”
“And, if he isn’t?”
She dropped the knife. “Don’t talk like that.”
“You’re going to have to find a way to be happy, no matter what.” She nodded her head and grabbed a paper towel to wipe her eyes, but that didn’t help. She just kept sobbing. “He’s my baby.”
“It’s not easy, but you’re an amazing woman, and I have faith in you.” She hugged me and went back to cooking.
I sat back down next to Gillian. She reached in and kissed me and said, “You’re a beautiful man, Dwayne. I love you.”
My father came downstairs just as Michael was beginning to pull up. My first reaction was to grab as much food as I could and run, but I knew that that wouldn’t be the right thing to do – and Gillian was gripping my hand so tight that I didn’t think she’d let me go.
Michael came in first, gave me an apologetic look, and walked off into the kitchen to feast on whatever my mother was fussing over. I turned to Gillian, hoping to avoid having to look at Jesse because I knew what I’d see. His head would be down. He’d be scratching at himself mindlessly with a lunatic smile. He’d probably already taken half his bottle of oxycontin. His tolerance had to be through the roof by now.
“Hey, bro.” He gave me quick nod, and I looked him over. He was lucid, at least – probably high, but I couldn’t tell for certain. I took a quick look back when he walked into the kitchen to grab a handful of chips, then took my mom aside into the backyard.
“Should we go out there?” Gillian asked.
My mom looked like she was in a death trap, but I knew that if we went out there, we’d just be interrupting. It was time for her desperate plea, and if she didn’t get a chance to make it, she’d just end up losing it over the pent-up frustration.
We all watched, even my father, who’d somehow managed to snag another beer. Jesse was talking to her, his head held down. It didn’t look like my mother had gotten a chance to say anything to him. Then she reached in and hugged him with tears flying down her face. She grabbed his hand and walked him inside, beaming.
“Jesse has something to say.” He was holding his head down and I could tell that he was nervous. “Go on,” she nudged him.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I’ve made a complete idiot out of myself. I decided that when I got out of the hospital I’d check into rehab. I called a place up, and I’m gonna check in tomorrow morning.”
I froze. I didn’t want to say it, but my dad was always shameless about everything he did. “You thought this up all by yourself?”
My mom looked at him like he’d just made a mess on the carpet. “Jim…”
“No, it’s fine. Yes, I did, and I knew you were going to try something today, so I took her out back to tell her before we had a scene.”
“It’s about damn time.” My dad took a drink of his beer.
Gillian brought me a plate, and we went outside to have a moment together. “Do you feel better?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t know what’ll happen, but I’m hopeful.”
“Good; we can leave whenever you want to.”
“No, I think we’ll stay a while longer. I haven’t been home in a while, and it’s nice.” I took a bite of my chicken. “I have to warn you, though.
”
“What?”
“You took two days to tell me about this, so you’re going two days without.”
“You won’t last twelve hours.”
I lifted my hand. “I’ve got help.”
“I’m taking this as a challenge.” She got up to walk into the kitchen and swayed her hips. I smacked her butt, jumped up, and nipped her on the back of the neck.
“I’m better at this than you.” I felt her tense up.
“Ooh,” she groaned, “just for that, you’re going to my recital and you can’t say no.”
“I’d love to.” I sat back down to finish my chicken. We spent the night sitting outside and talking with the rest of the family. Now that my mother didn’t have to worry as much about Jesse, she turned her focus to back to me. She’d been respectfully silent about our relationship for some time now. She knew I wouldn’t allow anything else, but she couldn’t help herself any longer.
When we were finishing off our beers around the fire pit, she turned to me and asked, “When are you going to give me some grandchildren?” By this time she was a little tipsy.
“I’m not answering that.” I drank the rest of my beer.
“Come on. You’re my only hope.”
“You’ll spoil them every time we visit.”
“Of course, I will,” she took a drink of her beer. “That’s the best part. It’s payback for all the years that you tortured me.”
“Remember the time Grandma sent us back to the house armed with squirt guns?” Jesse asked. He’d managed to abstain for the evening.
“I remember the bag of water balloons.” I laughed. “You were throwing them out the second floor window every time somebody walked up to the house.”
“Oh, I almost killed her for that.” My mom finished the rest of her beer. “She wasn’t allowed in the house for six months.”
“You see, that’s why you’re not getting any grandkids.” I noticed Gillian was starting to get tired. “I think we’d better go.”
“Will I ever see you again?” Mom asked playfully.
“Maybe; we’ll see.” I stood up and gave her a hug, then wished Jesse good luck. He was scared, I could see it. He wasn’t going to have any easy time. I could already see the strain on his face, but he played it off.
Gillian fell asleep on the drive back to my house, and I was starting to get pretty tired, so I picked her up and walked her back to my room when we got home. I was just about to lay down when she sat up to look at me. “Thank you,” she said.
“What are you thanking me for? I made a complete ass out of myself.”
“You took it a lot better than we thought you would, and you really helped your mom. I thought she was going to break down.”
I turned off the light, and we lay down together. “I hate seeing her nervous like that.”
“I do, too. I’m just so glad things turned out the way they did.”
“I am, too.” I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her.
After a moment, she said, “Did you mean what you said?”
“What?”
“About having kids?”
“No, I want a million. I just want them to turn out right. I want to be sure that I’m at my best.”
“You’ll make an amazing father.” She turned over to face me. Her eyes caught the light, and she was smiling. “I love you, Dwayne.”
“I love you, too.”
She laughed. “You’re not going to make me go without, are you?”
“Only if I don’t have to go to that recital.”
“No,” she turned away. “You’re going.”
Chapter Forty
Gillian
We had the girls gathered in the hallway near the back door where the smell of sweat and the tense afterglow of a hissy fit crowded in between us. Lexie wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead and looked each one of them in the eye.
“I’ve had some amazing girls in this school, girls with potential and grace, girls that really worked hard to become the best, but I’ve never had a class quite like you. Some of you have had to struggle. You’ve fallen down. You’ve skinned your knees. You’ve torn your leotards. We’ve seen it all. But after you fall, you get up and you try again, and that’s what counts because the more you try, the better you’ll get.
“I believe that all of you can become ballerinas, but if you want that to happen, you have to remember that this isn’t about what other people think or whether or not you can do your moves right. You’re still learning. You’re young, and you’re going to make mistakes. What matters is whether or not you see this through, and that you don’t get discouraged.”
I stepped up to address them. “Tonight is about having fun. Are you ready to get out there and show your parents what you can do?”
“Yeah!” they sounded off.
I turned back to Lexie who was pale. “Just play the keyboard,” I whispered. “The girls will be fine.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and turned back to look behind the curtain we’d put up. “They’re watching,” she said as she pulled her head back. I looked down at her hands. They were shaking. “This is the last recital before they graduate. The women are going to tear us apart. Then they’re going to tell all of their friends that I’m a terrible dance teacher.”
“Lexie…”
“No, I’m terrified.”
“Lexie, these girls are good, and you’ve never had a shortage of students. They’re going to be great.”
“Okay,” she took a deep breath.
“It’s going to be alright.”
She turned back to the curtain. “Push me out there. I don’t think I can do it.”
I gave her a good shove, and she walked out on stage to address the mothers. I couldn’t watch. I knew how those women could be, but Lexie could handle herself. She was just worried. After the initial shock wore off, she’d have fun, and for a moment, she’d forget that the mothers were watching and focus on the girls.
Soon enough, she started playing, and the girls stepped up. One by one they came out on their toes and showed off the techniques that we’d taught them.
There were some missteps and most were still learning to move to the beat, but we were halfway through and nobody had broken out into tears. Beth made sure to take her place at the back of the line. “Best for last,” she told me when she walked inside. I gave her a thumbs up before she went and watched as she ran to the side of the stage, gave me a wink and jumped up into the air. She landed perfectly on the balls of her feet and spun around.
I looked around the audience, certain that the mothers would rush up and tear me apart with their fake nails, but nothing happened. All I saw were wide eyes and open mouths. Everyone was speechless. My eyes misted up, and I caught Dwayne’s eye. The look he gave me was one of pure excitement. I couldn’t believe it.
The girls all came back up on stage for a quick bow, and there was a roar of applause, as the mothers stood up to collect their children. Beth’s mother grabbed her by the hand and walked up to me. She was crying. “Did you teach her that?”
“No, I thought you did.”
“I did it!” Beth jumped up and down. “And, you’re paying for private lessons,” she glared at her mother.
“Absolutely,” she agreed as she ducked down to give her daughter a kiss. “Come on, sweetie.”
“No!” Beth pulled away and ran back to where Dwayne was sitting. He leaned in while she started talking to him. I wanted to tear him away. The girl had a mouth, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I watched for a second to make sure that she wasn’t saying anything too weird before I turned to her mom.
“Beth is an amazing person. You should be more than proud. I just want you to know that.”
“Thank you.”
“I really mean that. I mean, every little girl dreams about becoming a ballerina, but they don’t do anything about it. At most, they might take a few classes, but they never follow through, not like her. This little girl, no
t only did she drag you down here to sign up, she’s doing what it takes to succeed. Most adults don’t have the discipline and determination she has, and I’m not sure you’re aware of the magnitude of what she did. Do you know how difficult it is to jump like that?”
“No.”
“She’s exercising, isn’t she? She has to be. People have to train their bodies and build up specific muscles just to stand like that. Jumping the way she did is really dangerous and not easy. I’ve never seen anyone as young as her do it.”
“She found an old DVD in the basement. It’s killing me.”
“See, don’t you dare discourage her in anything she does.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. You two have been amazing. I think she’s going to make it. She’s constantly practicing. She won’t stop; and the music,” she sighed. “I haven’t heard anything but classical for at least three months. I’m dreaming in violin.” We both laughed.
“You know, I’m honored to have her as my student. Thank you for bringing her here.”
“You’re welcome.”
I took a glance behind her and saw a swarm of designer dresses and expensive dye jobs closing in around Lexie. “I’ll be back.” I darted around Beth’s mom.
“Who taught her that?” Lily Cho had taken her position as queen bee as soon as Mrs. Regis left, and she’d been leading the charge against Lexie.
“I don’t know who taught her,” Lexie said.
“Don’t give us that crap,” Cho accused. “We know you two have been favoring Beth this whole time.” The other mothers nodded their heads. “You taught her that in private.”
“Why didn’t you teach my daughter to jump?” a blonde asked.
“Cindy has been working so hard. Why would you do that to her?”
“I paid just as much as Beth’s mother did.”
“You’re going to show Jenny how to jump, and you’re doing it for free.”
“I always knew you were incompetent.”
“You’re a terrible teacher.”
“We want our money back,” Cho demanded.
“Ladies.” I pushed through the crowd to get to Lexie, who looked like she was ready to cry. “The reason your daughters don’t know how to jump up on their tiptoes and land on their tiptoes is because they are five and six years old and they haven’t developed their muscles yet.”