by Annie Katz
He was so cute and solemn and funny, I could only respond to his greeting the same way. "Namaste, Brother."
Then he grinned and I grinned, and he spun around and cannonballed into the pool, splashing us with water.
Lila and I left our clothes and towels in a lounge chair away from the cannonball splash, and we got in the warm pool. Mark had watched us from the diving board side. He'd waved when he first saw Lila, but he was clearly not as demonstrative as Jamie.
I tried to ignore him, and it was easy to focus on Jamie, at least after I got over the shock of how big Mark was. Mark looked like a grown man, a big man at that. I wondered if David looked like him at fifteen.
Mark got on the diving board, and Jamie yelled at him, "Do your back flip for Grandma."
Mark smiled at Jamie, turned about, balanced, and did a nice flip into the water. I couldn't help but be impressed, because he looked so much more like a football player than a diver. Still, my back flip was better.
Mark did several more dives. Jamie and I stayed in another part of the pool and took turns holding our breath under water while the top one counted. Lila kept her head out of the water, protecting her braided crown from the chlorine, and did lazy breaststrokes not far from where Jamie and I were playing. It was fun to be in the warm pool knowing that several yards away was the cold Pacific Ocean.
Next Jamie and I played the old game where you both put your heads under water and say words to each other and try to guess what the other person said. Jamie called the game Dolphinese. We loved the silliness of it, coming up sputtering and laughing each time. I'd practically forgotten about Mark by then.
Jamie and I had gone down for another round when Mark swam between us, forcing us apart. It was a pretty rude way to get attention, but I tried to be tolerant. I moved over to the edge of the pool and hung on, looking at Mark.
He treaded water nearby and studied me for too long, but I wasn't going to let him win the silence game so easily. Somehow being around Lila for a month had given me more confidence and patience. I was willing to let Mark have the first word, even if it took all day. He seemed to make the same decision after staring at me, and he ducked down and pushed off from the pool wall, swimming easily underwater.
If he wanted a contest, I knew I could win in the underwater swimming category. I let him show off a while, and then I challenged Jamie to swim underwater with me. He was a wise little kid and he knew what I was up to, but he went along with it anyway.
I felt an immediate connection to Jamie, as if we'd played together for years. I'd never wanted a sibling, but if I had to have one, I'd choose Jamie. Anyone would be glad to have him on her side.
Lila was giving us plenty of time and space to work things out on our own. I was grateful she wasn't one of those adults who think they have to introduce children to each other and force them to pretend to enjoy something together.
My third grade teacher was one of those. When two kids were slugging it out over who was going to take the kick ball out for recess, she’d make them stand in front of the class and apologize to each other before she would let anyone leave the room. Then she'd make the offenders carry the ball outside together as if they were best friends. It was torture and humiliation for everyone. She actually thought she was solving the problem in a peaceful way rather than ensuring the two kids would hate each other for life.
Lila was much smarter. She visited with the family at the shallow end for a while, and I could hear them all laughing. After the family gathered up their towels and left, Lila resumed her lazy laps around the pool, smiling at us as she passed by.
Jamie and I were having so much fun swimming underwater, I forgot about trying to outdo Mark. It was a good thing, too, because later I learned Mark would push himself too far without being challenged.
When Jamie and I had worn ourselves out, I noticed Mark and Lila standing in the shallows talking. At first I couldn't figure out why Mark wasn't six inches taller than Lila. Then I realized he was standing in the deeper end of the pool, so their heights matched. I was glad he wasn't towering over her. I didn't trust him.
Then I realized how silly I was being. Lila and Mark and Jamie had been spending holidays together all along. I was the interloper.
After we'd all dried off and dressed, they decided to go up to the rooftop restaurant for early dinner. Mark still wasn't talking to me, which was fine, but he was talking to Lila in a relaxed way as though I were invisible. Jamie was sticking by my side, and he was talking to me and including me in everything, and so was Lila, so it was actually kind of funny that Mark was making such a point of ignoring me.
Of course, I was ignoring him too. Why should I be the first to break the silence barrier? I was a girl, and younger, so he should be the one, right? I wished I could talk to Shelly or my mom. They'd agree with me.
Jamie got tired of the silence game first, and before we went in to dinner, he took my hand and pulled me over to stand in front of Mark. "Say hello to Mark," he told me.
"Hello, Mark," I said, looking Mark straight in the eyes.
"Hello, Cassandra," he said, matching my tone of voice perfectly.
We nodded to each other, each standing our ground. Lila laughed, patted Jamie on the back, kissed the top of his head, and led us inside.
Two days later Mark and Jamie moved in with us. The first thing Mark did was go upstairs to check the Crow's Nest. In a few minutes he returned and plunked my suitcase down in the middle of the kitchen where Lila and I were preparing snacks. "She can't stay with us," he said.
Lila glanced at him as if he were a seagull squawking outside the window and then went back to slicing up apples and pears for the fruit platter.
"I mean she can't stay in the Crow's Nest," he said, slightly less the tough guy.
When Lila continued to ignore him, he said, "That's what I meant."
"Cassandra, get a couple of those world cheeses out of the fridge,” Lila said. "Those will go well with the fruit." She liked to try cheese from all over the planet, so we had some Irish cheese and some from France. We called them world cheeses.
I did what she asked of me, even though I had to edge around Mark and the suitcase to reach the refrigerator. It took all my willpower to pretend that Mark wasn't hovering over us like a disgruntled bear.
After everything was prepared and arranged on two large serving trays, Lila said to Mark, "Sweetheart? Please help Cassandra take the food upstairs. We'll have our snack on the big table up there."
I picked up my tray and followed Lila out of the kitchen first, giving Mark time to collect himself or break things or whatever he decided to do. Instead of going up the stairs ahead of me, Lila went in her room and closed the door.
Up in the Crow's Nest the afternoon sun was warming one end of the big wooden table. Lila and I had finished the tulip jigsaw, and sunshine made the bright colors of the flowers practically leap off the puzzle. I spread a tablecloth on the shady end of the table and arranged the things that were on my tray, fruit platter, cheese and nut dishes, soft pretzels, and giant chocolate chip cookies from The Bakery Boys.
Jamie and Chloe and Zoe were taking sunbaths in the window seat. While we waited for Mark and Lila, Jamie chirped at the cats and they chirped back at him, and then he'd smile and pet them and they'd purr and rub themselves on him. Then he'd make a different chirp, which they again seemed to imitate.
No wonder those cats had such a large vocabulary! Jamie had been teaching them Dolphinese all these years.
Mark came up then, carefully balancing the heavy tea tray. He arranged the giant blue and white teapot and four mugs on the tablecloth, and then set up water glasses for all of us and milk for Jamie. We didn't make eye contact.
There was nothing for us to do but wait for Lila. Mark went back downstairs and returned a minute later with my suitcase, which he put back on the middle bunk. Then he browsed the bookshelves, turning on the spotlights so he could read all the titles easily.
I went to join
Jamie and the cats on the window seat, which was almost too hot for comfort. Diamonds of light danced on the blue ocean. The waves were small and tame, and lots of people were walking on the beach. Several had their jeans rolled up and were splashing ankle deep in the sea.
It was a rare day because the wind was mild, almost balmy. Usually the afternoon wind was so fierce it kicked up whitecaps and blew sand down the beach. But today, the beach was calm, bright, and peaceful.
Lila came upstairs, and we all turned to greet her, including the cats. There's a lot to be said for a well-timed entrance.
She was carrying a three ring binder, some lined school paper, a kitchen timer, and a cup full of pens and pencils. Writing tools. Something in me squirmed around a bit. This seemed to portend something more than a light afternoon snack. Mark and Jamie and the cats watched silently as she placed her supplies in the middle of the big table between the completed puzzle and the picnic setting.
She looked around at all of us as though she was a preacher and we were the expectant congregation, and she said, "Shall we eat, my dears?"
We sighed, relieved we got to eat before whatever came next. Lila directed us as to who sat where.
Jamie wanted to give a blessing, so we joined hands, luckily Mark and I didn't have to touch each other, and Jamie said, "Thank you, apples and pears, for giving your lives for us, and thank you, cheese and nuts and cookies, for making us healthy and sweet. Namaste."
Like good disciples, we murmured Namaste in response.
After the prayer, Chloe and Zoe jumped up on the puzzle where they sat grooming themselves expectantly. Jamie fixed a special picnic for them, two pinches of each variety of cheese, along with four little chunks of cookie, which he arranged on a napkin between them on the puzzle. They each picked up a pinch of cheese with the claws of their left paws, like dancers mirroring one another. Watching them and the sea while we ate made conversation unnecessary. I found myself lingering over the tea, taking a bite of apple and putting the slice back down on my plate, prolonging the moments that nothing besides breathing and eating would be required of me.
Mark was doing the same thing, I know, but instead of making one cookie last a long time, he spent a long time eating every cookie left on the plate. When he realized what he's done, I think he was embarrassed to notice that I noticed. Lila and Jamie seemed fine with it, though, so maybe Mark always cleaned up whatever plates were in front of him. He probably had to eat a lot to stay that big.
Finally, we could extend the meal no longer. Mark and I tidied up the area and took the trays back down to the kitchen. We washed and dried everything without saying a word, and then he went upstairs while I detoured to the bathroom.
Finally I went back up the stairs, and all their eyes were on me while I sat back in my place. Now all of us had lined paper in front of us. We waited for Lila to instruct us, all good grandchildren who were at her mercy. We couldn't even run to our parents for help or invent chores that needed doing. Lila was the boss.
She set the timer for five minutes. "Okay," she said. "Everyone write as fast as they can for five minutes. Go."
Mark and Jamie grabbed pencils and started in. I'd never had an assignment quite that unstructured, but Lila and the boys were writing furiously, so I did my best. What I wrote was just gibberish, like, "I wonder why she's giving us assignments and why are the boys acting so comfortable when I know they were nervous before and the lunch was good and what do the cats think about us" and nonsense like that. In what seemed like no time, the timer dinged and we all stopped and looked at Lila.
"Now," she said. "Read what you wrote silently to yourself."
We did. I was surprised, because besides the nonsense, I wrote about hoping I was doing it right. How could anything be wrong or right with such a simple exercise?
"If you want to share any piece of what you wrote with us," Lila said, "read it out loud. I'll go first." She read, "Having David's three children together with me here is a dream come true."
I thought that was sweet and predictable, but the next part wasn't. She took a deep breath, smiled at each of us, then wadded up the paper and tossed it at the wastebasket over by the stairs. It barely missed the basket. I didn't know a person could throw away words they wrote so soon and so easily, especially nice words.
She looked around the table expectantly, but didn't say anything. I read mine again searching for one sentence I could read out loud, but nothing seemed good enough or relevant so I looked at Mark, and he was looking at what he'd written but not volunteering.
Jamie was the one who was brave enough to go next. He read, "Chloe and Zoe missed me." Then he smiled at everyone and tore that sentence out of his paper by carefully folding all around it then licking the fold then tearing on the soggy edges. He kept his sentence and wadded up the rest of the paper and tossed it. It too missed.
Mark wadded up his paper and tossed it, making the first basket. Jamie cheered for his brother.
Now they all looked at me, and I ripped my paper in strips and took them over to drop in the trash. Jamie cheered for me.
From the stack of paper on the table, I didn't think that would be the end of things. It wasn't. Lila set the timer again, this time for ten minutes, and said, "Write all the things you don't want to say right now. Go."
That was easy. I filled two pages before the timer went off, and I could have gone on for hours with what I didn't want to say. The others seemed just as easy with this prompt, and none of us stopped when the timer dinged. We went on for several minutes until we finally wound down.
Lila had us do the same thing, read it to ourselves, underline anything we wanted to read out loud, and read. Lila was the only one who read anything this round. She read, "I don't want to say, I wish David were here."
We sat there looking at her, her happy sad face and her braided crown of hair.
I wished she hadn't said it, but there it was. I wadded up my papers and tossed them, making a basket. I cheered for myself. Mark and Jamie threw at the same time and both missed.
I picked up the timer and set it for ten minutes. I said, "Write about parents and children."
Lila smiled at me and we all started writing. This time everyone shared.
I went first with, "I expect too much of my mother."
Jamie read, "Children miss their moms at night."
Mark read, "My parents pretend they trust me."
Lila read, "When a baby is born, a mother is born."
After that Lila opened her binder and said, "I like to review the house rules at family meetings. Who wants to go first?"
Jamie said, "Impeccable honesty. That means telling the truth even when you are afraid you might get in trouble."
Mark said, "Choose happiness here now means talk yourself out of a bad mood because only now is real."
I said, "Support one another means giving each other space and time to get to know each other." I glanced at Mark, but he was looking at Lila. In fact we hadn't made eye contact with one another or spoken one word to each other since Jamie made us say hello the first day.
Lila said, "Clear complete communication means letting everyone know where you are and when you'll be home, so we don't have to spend any energy wondering and worrying."
Jamie said, "Clean, safe, and sober means make up your bed and stay off the drift logs."
We all smiled at him, and he had the sweetest little proud look on his face, basking in adoration.
Lila said, "Responsible roommates means each person is responsible for getting the food, water, exercise, and sleep that they need to stay healthy."
Mark said, "Solve problems wisely means we use respectful language even if we're mad."
"Good," Lila said, nodding and smiling at us. "You remembered. I'm so proud of you."
"It might take some adjustment for all of us to be sharing this time and space together," she said. "We've gotten off to a wonderful start, and I'm confident we will all grow together. Anyone want to say anything else
before we end our meeting?"
We shook our heads no. Then one of the cats walked across the table to Jamie and touched her nose to his. She rubbed her shoulder on his chest and said, "Meow," only she stretched it out to be four syllables long.
"Zoe likes to have the last word," Lila said.
That ended our first official family meeting. I was relieved no one put me under a microscope, and I was glad Lila made it clear in a nice way that we could talk about anything as long as we followed the house rules.
I decided the best way to deal with Mark was to avoid him, and he seemed to have made the same decision about me, so things went smoothly the first week. When Lila was home, she and Jamie made it easy to be involved with one or both of them. Even when all four of us were in the same room, things never got too awkward.
When Lila was at work, Jamie went with her so he could visit everyone in the village, and Mark usually went off on his own hiking down the beach or up one of the small nearby creeks. He wasn't the kind of kid who had a gang of friends or one best friend he went places with. He liked being with Jamie, but if he wasn't with family, he wanted to be on his own. A lone wolf.
Lila's house wasn't the same now that the boys were living there, so I didn't want to be there by myself when Lila was at work. Instead I went to The Salty Dog, Kitty Lynn's, The Bakery Boys, and Sunshine Books.
Visiting Sunshine Books was more like hanging out in someone's home than being in a store. I knew Shelly would love the Mills family who lived there, so I wrote about them in a long letter to her.
Dear Shelly, I spent all afternoon yesterday at Sunshine Books, a big store two doors down from Lila's barbershop. When you stand on the sidewalk looking in, first you see a long couch whose back is up against the window. There's a recliner chair on your right and a padded rocking chair on your left, both facing the street at an angle. In front of the couch is a wooden coffee table with magazines and coffee cups, like in someone's house.