Fight Like A Mitchell
Page 4
“Miranda, just tell me. Do you know what’s going on with my husband?”
I nod, but say nothing. Van drops the bowl on the counter and pulls me into the small bathroom downstairs. When the door is shut, she’s staring me in the eyes, waiting for me to explain.
“He didn’t tell me. I guessed it. Ty did too. He was pushing Colt like he always does and it sort of came out.”
“What? What the hell is going on with my husband? Is he sick? Is it cancer? Do I need to worry? Should we even be here right now?”
I take her hands to settle her. “No. He’s not sick. It’s…” I can’t bring myself to say it.
“It’s what?”
“It’s his dick, Van. It’s not working.”
Chapter 5
Too much information
Conner
The phone rang at a quarter to eight. Amy was cooking up breakfast burritos while we awaited the kids to arrive and join us for our usual Saturday morning open house. It’s become a tradition. Saturday breakfast and Sunday dinners. Not everyone shows up, but we make enough just in case.
While Amy is preoccupied, I answer the phone assuming it’s one of the kids, or even grandkids. They’re all getting big fast. “Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me.” My sister sounds like she’s whispering. Her voice is like she’s speaking through a tunnel.
“Hey, you. Where are you? I can barely hear you.”
“At the cabin. Listen, what was the name of that doctor you saw when you had that problem?”
Right away I begin to chuckle. “Don’t tell me. Ty finally got what was coming to him.”
“No. Of course not. I mean, I suppose one day it could happen, but it’s not for Ty. Do you know the doctor’s name?”
Like they say, curiosity kills the cat. “I’ll give you the name if you tell me who needs it.”
“Conner, it’s for a friend. Mind your business.”
“What kind of man would I be if I went around giving the name of my endocrinologist to anyone who asks?”
“A good one.”
“Someone you know having thyroid problem? They got a blocked gland in their ball sack?”
She doesn’t laugh. “Fine. I can tell you’re no fun this morning. It’s Dr. Barringer. He practices out of Raleigh.”
“Thank you so much. I’ll call you when we’re back Monday. Love you.”
When she hangs up I’m left wondering who this so-called friend could be. Assuming it’s someone from the salon, I know I’d rather not pry too much. Although, Ty would get a kick out of knowing someone couldn’t get it up. I can see him now pointing to the person in our small town and making cracks about their junk. It’s all fun and games until it happens to one of us. Then we’re screwed royally for making jokes regarding shit we shouldn’t laugh about.
Amy hands me plates to carry outside to the sunroom, where we’ve now set up three full length tables to seat our growing family. I get to my task, while watching her bring large covered dishes and sitting them in the center. “Was that your sister?”
“Yeah. She was calling to ask me the name of that doctor I used when I had that blockage. Remember the one when I freaked out and thought I had cancer of the nuts?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the technical term for it.”
“You know what I mean, Blaze.” When she’s finished with the last dish I take her into my arms and pull her up against me. My lips find hers before she can protest by telling me she’s too busy for a moment. “I promised the kids I’d work on that fort today. We’re almost ready to paint if you plan on helping.”
I’ve been building my grandkids a fort so that they don’t have to go all the way over to Ty’s property to play in his old hunk of junk. When I’m done they’ll have their own two story hang out. Amy’s been collecting smaller furniture to make the space comfortable, and I’ve run electric underground so they’ll have lights and plugs. I know I’m spoiling them, but it gives me a sense of pride to know how happy I make them. I may have been hard on my kids, but the grandchildren are a different story. They know that when they’re with us, they’ll get whatever their little hearts desire.
“Speaking of doctors,” Amy begins. “I think we should do something on our own for the fundraiser. A surprise of sorts.”
“Like what? Options are limited with the girls trying to outdo themselves each year.”
“I know. There has to be something special we could do though, just from us.”
“We could get with Rusty and Bella and see if we could have a petting zoo. I’m sure we could round up enough animals to make it a fun time. We’ll charge five bucks entry per person, children under five get in free. If they’re expecting the same amount of people as last year, I’m sure we could make a killin’.”
“It’s a great idea. As long as we can arrange it.”
“I’m sure Rusty will be in on the idea. He and I spoke about it before. The only problem I see is getting all the animals to one place. We’ll have to make some calls to scrounge up exotics in Kentucky. I know Colt has a friend that owns a two hundred pound African Tortoise. She’s nice. I’ve seen her a couple times at the fairs. I also went to school with a guy whose father collected snakes. He’s got some huge boas I’m sure he’d be willing to bring. He probably has a couple iguanas and other lizards too.” I’ve been thinking about this idea for a while, ever since I took a couple of my grandchildren to one. They loved being able to different animals.
With a bright smile, Amy agrees. “It’s a good start. The ranch has chickens, goats, cattle, pigs, and horses. Ethan’s parents have llamas and ecru. That could be enough. I’m not talking a huge production, but we could set up different tent enclosures. I think it’s actually doable if we can organize it in time.”
“I know Cassie said ticket sales for the concert are going up next week. We have plenty of time to add it to the flyers and advertisements. They thought last year was big. This year is going to double it.” I’m optimistic. I’ve been feeling that way a lot lately. We have so much to be thankful for in our lives. We’re healthy and surrounded by grandchildren. When my wife thought she couldn’t have kids I was convinced we could adopt or just love the nieces and nephews. Turns out, she’d been wrong. Grateful doesn’t begin to describe how it feels to see her eyes light up when our kids walk into the room. She’s so full of love and compassion. I’m a damn lucky man, and no matter what we went through to get this far, I don’t regret a single moment of it. “It’s going to be great, Blaze.”
Amy reaches out and takes my hand. “I hope so. It’s for such a good cause. I remember a few years back I had that lump. I was so scared. Van was there for me. So were you, but it’s different because she’d gone through it. She’s had a couple scares since then, but it was nothing but built up tissue. It’s the scariest thing. The not knowing. I hated it.”
“My blockage wasn’t exactly easy to deal with, but I knew from the get-go I wouldn’t give up. I’d fight for you and the kids. There’s no way you’d ever lose me.”
“I appreciate that.”
The sound of the door notifies us that we’re no longer alone. Little footsteps race into the kitchen and we’re bombarded with hugs. Cammie and Wes follow them. “Morning,” Wes offers.
“You’re early,” Amy tells them.
Cammie shrugs. “We wanted you to be the first to know. We’re having another baby.”
And this life keeps getting better.
“Tell them the other news, babe.” Wes doesn’t let us celebrate yet. Just when I think she’s about to announce it’s twins, she throws us a loop.
“I’m opening my own practice here in town. It’s a shared building with a Radiology center, who has offered to bring equipment to the annual event for free mammograms for women thirty and over.”
Amy cups her hands over her face, while I pull my daughter into my arms. “That’s awesome, honey. Your aunt will be so pleased.”
“I already emailed her about it. She’s got
another Radiology team coming too, so we’ll be able to hopefully get everyone seen. It’s going to be a long day, but I’ve offered to volunteer my time to providing results. Each patient will be able to know before they leave the booth.”
“Your dad and I are going to do a petting zoo for the kids, but your news is so much better.”
“She’s got to be careful,” Wes reminds us. She can’t be near any of the machines, so I told her she’s going to have to take precautions. According to the radiologist, they have lead panels they can set up, and the machine will be transported in a mobile trailer that doesn’t give off radiation outside. It’s kind of a big high-tech unit.”
“Wes and I are covering the travel costs for the unit. Christian and Callie are going to help with patients. They’ll get their information and prep them for us to make it faster. We’re hoping to set up next to the other team so it’s a one stop shop.”
“Impressive. You girls are really working hard to make this happen.”
Cammie shrugs. “I’ve spent my whole life wanting to heal the sick. I’m a doctor now, so this makes me feel like I’m making a difference.”
Wes holds their five year old son in his arms. He kisses the boy, while doting over his wife. I’ve known that boy since he was a little kid, and best friend to our son Josh. Never in a million years would I have thought he’d end up with Cammie, but they’ve created a beautiful family and I’m proud of him for taking responsibility when he didn’t have to.
“Mom, do you need help with the food?” Cammie asks.
Wes and I lead the kids out on the porch so the girls can finish getting everything in order. Coming up the driveway are two SUVs, behind them, an unmarked police cruiser. A grin covers my face when I realize we’re about to have a full house. I never thought I’d see the day when my whole family wasn’t struggling, but it’s upon us, and it’s humbling.
Chapter 6
The weight of the world
Amy
I’m going to be a grandmother again. The news should make me the happiest person in the world, but it doesn’t. I’m worried about my daughter taking on too much. Her last pregnancy wasn’t easy, in fact she suffered complications during childbirth and had internal bleeding. The thought of losing my daughter to something like that in this day and age doesn’t sit easy with me, yet I know it still happens. Just the other day a woman from church lost her niece after a placental abruption, something Miranda experienced so many years ago. In this instance the mother didn’t make it, but the newborn was hanging onto life on a medical support system. There was a huge prayer tree ordered, and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.
Maybe it’s just my nerves. Our lives are usually so laid back, but this event takes a lot out of me. I feel like it pulls all of us in different directions, and even though it’s for the best of causes, it’s strenuous and exhausting. Menopause has been kicking my ass. I’m in my fifties and I feel every bit of it. I may look like I’m in shape, but I feel like every limb in my body wants to give up.
After breakfast most of the kids go off to enjoy their Saturday. Cassie and Logan are involved in a serious investigation that’s requiring them to leave town, so I’ll be babysitting their son while they’re away. He’s a little charmer, to the point where he calls all women hubba bubbas. It’s funny, especially when it’s an elderly man, which he made the mistake of doing.
There was also another time where this beautiful young lady, probably no older than twenty was in line behind us at the pharmacy. He was strapped in a cart but managed to reach over and squeeze her boobs while repeating ‘hubba bubba’.
After that fiasco, where I was more embarrassed than the woman, I swore I was going to teach him a more proper word to use for a female.
After the dishes are put away, I get the bright idea that I want to make a casserole for supper. Pulling out the vegetables, I begin chopping them into chip sized pieces and layering them in a baking dish. I get the onions, potatoes and carrots done before grabbing the zucchini, which is usually the easiest the cut through.
I’m halfway through the first one when I hear a loud crash from behind me. A gut instinct is to turn around and as I do I realize I’m mid-cut into the vegetable.
The knife goes into my hand. Noticing what I’ve done, the pain instantly cripples me from reacting accordingly. I pull the knife from the palm of my hand and press the other against the wound. Blood is gushing out everywhere, and I still have to figure out what the ruckus was, and if my grandson is okay.
Turning around, I find him in the corner. There had been a nautical themed net with large conch shells the family collected on one of our beach trips. He managed to get a hold of the edge and they all came falling down on top of him. He was all tears until he saw the blood dripping down on the floor and then the room filled with screams. He was terrified, and I couldn’t blame him. The pain ripped through me as I attempted to console him while holding the wound closed.
After I wrapped a towel around my injury, I quickly propped him up on my lap and tried to call Conner. With no answer, I ended up getting Josh on the phone. Soon he’ll arrive and assess the situation. I don’t know what’s worse, Conner telling me I wasn’t paying attention, or his mini-me saying it.
While waiting for help to arrive, I try my best to comfort the weeping child on my lap. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m not invincible. None of us are. Accidents happen every single day and we need to always be aware. Nothing is guaranteed. I could have easily slit my wrist and been bleeding to death. I have to take better care of myself, or else I’m not going to be around to babysit, cook, or support my growing family. The truth is I’ve been in denial. I’m getting older and I have to come to terms with it. My body just isn’t what it used to be.
I just wonder if Conner notices the change. I wonder if I’m still enough for him, or does my crows feet and age spots turn him off. Sex isn’t what it used to be. I miss those days where we were carefree. I miss the fire we used to have. Now we’re those two people that share a bed, but not each other. I’m with a book, and he’s usually watching television. Our love remains, yet it’s concealed by monotony. With tears running down my face I decide I need to make a change. Just as soon as I leave the hospital, and track down my husband.
Chapter 7
The thunder rolls
Joshua
Leave it to my mom to do something that would require stitches. I’d promised my kids that we’d take them to the new fun zone in town, but instead I’m driving her to the hospital with a knife wound.
Apparently she’d been trying to cut a zucchini and the knife somehow got lodged into the center of the palm of her hand. By the time I arrived at the house, the kitchen was covered in blood, my nephew was in the corner crying with snot all the way down his chin, and my mom was frantically trying to reach my dad. Since I know he and Wes had plans to pick up a new pony, there’s a good chance they left their phones in the truck.
That being said, I’m always the one she calls when there’s an emergency. In this case, not even Aunt Miranda and Uncle Ty are available to help since they’ve gone to the cabin for the weekend.
Mom has her hand wrapped in a kitchen towel, and it’s saturated as we pull down the dirt and gravel driveway. “Keep pressure on it.”
“Who’s the parent here, Josh? I know what to do. It’s just deep.”
In the back of the truck, strapped into one of my kid’s chairs, my nephew continues to scream. He’s bouncing his body back and forth and trying to somehow escape, for what reason I have no clue. “Calm down, buddy. I’m going to drop you off with Aunt Tamsyn. You’ll be fine.”
Mom and I share a look. She’s going to need stitches, so this kid won’t be staying the night at her house. She’ll probably have to take it easy and will be prescribed something for the pain she’ll have to endure until it heals. I’ve been cut plenty times working on the ranch. I’ve had my fair share of tetanus boosters. “I always told you eating vegetables were bad
for my health,” I tease.
She growls something under her breath and scrunches her face up in pain.
Rolling into my driveway at full speed, I come to a stop near the front porch. I realize I’ve driven in the grass, but this is an emergency. Tamsyn comes flying out of the house wondering what’s going on. All I’d told her was that my mom needed something.
Hopping out, I head to the back and pull our nephew from the seat. “I need you to watch him until I can get back.”
“What’s going on?”
“Mom cut herself. We’re heading to the hospital.”
“How bad it is?”
I hand her the child. “Seems like it’s deep. It’s her hand. She’ll be fine if they need to amputate.”
Tamsyn rolls her eyes. “Stop playing. That’s not even funny.”
“Fine.” I give her a quick kiss. “I’ll text you.”
“Love ya, babe.”
“Love you too.”
Back in the truck, mom’s head leans against the window. She’s been crying, and I feel bad for joking around with her. “Once we get you situated I’ll track Dad down. Don’t worry.”
“He wanted to see a movie tonight.”
“You can still go. First you need your hand taken care of. Calm down, Mom. You always worry.”
What went from a kitchen accident quickly escalated to possible nerve damage of her hand. After initially stitching her up, they sent her for tests and came back with bad news. Mom would have to see another doctor and go to therapy, all over a zucchini. I wanted to laugh because it seemed so ridiculous, but she was out of sorts.
It didn’t help that Dad hadn’t answered a single message, nor Wes. After speaking to my sister, she claimed she hadn’t spoken to either since earlier in the day, and that Wes had left his cell phone on the dresser in their bedroom.
If Mom wasn’t worried before, now she’s freaking out. “Something has to be wrong.”
“It’s not. I’m sure everything is fine.”