by MK Schiller
“Who’s signing tonight?” Damien asked.
“My turn,” I said, standing up.
We all took turns signing to George. It got him used to communicating with different people. Plus, it was good practice for us. The children dominated the meal with their funny antics. Marley reveled in the distraction, playing with our little brothers and nephew.
“Let’s have dessert,” Marley said, standing to clear the plates.
“Sit. I’ll get it,” Rick said, taking the dishes from her hand. Perhaps the only thing he’d said without being asked a direct question.
We had chocolate coconut pudding made with almond milk so Mom could eat it. I had to admit, Marley was becoming a really good cook. We all complimented her. The boys, both the little and big ones, finished their bowls quickly. The triplets and Bobby stared with agitation at the colorful trunk in the corner, which doubled as a toy chest.
“Go ahead, boys,” Marley said, opening the trunk.
We watched them for a while, all fascinated with their serious glee at playing a golf game with plastic clubs, going so far as to create an impressive make-believe fairway in Marley’s living room. John, Paul and Bobby all attempted to sign to George so he was part of the high action adventure game they played, but in the end, their bond was so strong that he seemed to understand what they were saying even when they forgot to tell him.
“Let’s dish,” Stevie said.
“Sounds good,” Marley agreed.
“You start,” she countered.
Yeah, there it was. I wasn’t the only one feeling the tension.
“I don’t have anything to share.”
“Sweetie, how was your appointment today?” Mom asked.
“Dish—everything went well,” Marley said. “Someone else go now.”
“Dish—we enrolled Bobby into Montessori,” Adam said.
It went on from there, each of us telling a little piece of what was going on in our lives. Mom had started the tradition when we were little girls because she was tired of asking us what we did in school for us to reply, ‘nothing’. Having such a health nut for a mom somehow made all us sugar junkies, so when she threatened to withhold desserts, we started spilling our guts.
Damien finished telling us about his new hotel in the Keys right on the water. He suggested we all take a joint family vacation to that destination when Marley and the baby could travel. No argument here.
Rick cleared his throat. “Dish.”
We all focused our attention on him, especially Marley, who seemed to be conveying a silent plea to him.
“Marley was in a car accident today.”
Stevie, Mom and I gasped. Then we shot questions at a rampant pace. I don’t think anyone noticed, but I sat next to her and saw her hand grip Rick’s in a way that was far too tight to be a sign of affection.
“What the hell happened, kid?” Dillon asked.
“Are you hurt?” Mom asked.
“How could you not have told us?” Stevie demanded.
Marley held up her hand to back them off. “Just relax, guys. It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal?” Stevie said. “I think it’s a huge deal.”
When Marley spoke it came out in a high-pitched, clipped pace. “First off, I’m fine, and even more importantly, so is the baby. We went to the hospital after and they put a monitor on me.”
Our sighs of relief were collective, almost harmonious in a way.
“What happened exactly, honey?” Mom asked.
“We left the doctor’s office. Rick met me there so he was following me home. He was a few cars behind me on the expressway. This man—a teenager really—came into my lane and clipped the front end of my car. It was just a fender bender. I could have driven it home, but Rick didn’t want me to so we had it towed to the shop.”
“Was he drunk?” Damien asked.
“Oh no, Damien, nothing like that. He was texting and not paying attention. He actually got the worst of it because his car fell into the ditch, which trapped him inside until the police came. Thankfully, they got there very fast.” She turned to Rick. “I think it was less than ten minutes, don’t you?”
“Felt more like ten hours,” Rick replied, a grim tone to his voice.
“I couldn’t imagine being trapped in my car,” Dillon said with a shudder.
“It was the safest place he could be,” Marley said.
“Why?”
“Because Rick would have killed him.”
“Can’t blame him for that,” Damien added.
Marley jerked her thumb toward Rick, jabbing him in the chest, her irritation clear. “It took two officers to hold this one back when they got the kid out of his car. I thought I’d have to bail my husband out of jail, but thankfully the police officers on the scene were able to calm him down. I think the poor kid probably shit his pants.”
“So long as he got the message,” Adam said, his jaw set in a hard line. “Did he get the message, Rick?”
“Affirmative,” Rick said.
Marley giggled, a strange high-pitched sound that wasn’t natural to her. “That’s the story, guys. It’s not a big deal and I didn’t want to tell you because I figured you’d have this reaction.”
“That’s not the whole thing,” Rick said. He turned toward her, taking her hand in his. “You need to quit your job, sweetheart.”
“This again? The accident wasn’t my fault. Stop acting as if it is.”
“You’re stressed all the time and you’re not sleeping well.”
Mom, Stevie and Dillon all straightened in their chairs as if they had choreographed the action. “What do you mean, she’s not sleeping well?” Mom asked.
“Nothing,” Marley responded. “I’m going to get started on the dishes.” She stood but he stopped her.
“I’ll do them,” Rick said, gently squeezing her shoulder. “You visit with your family, baby. Enjoy it.”
Right then, I understood what Rick was doing. He’d reached the end of a rope, unable to convince her, so he’d thrown her to the wolves to get some much needed backup. And this pack of fiercely loyal family members wouldn’t disappoint.
“Wait a sec, Rick. I have some dish,” Mom said.
I wondered what could be important enough to trump the current discussion.
“I’m getting a nanny,” she said.
“You are?” Damien asked.
She nodded, a glint in her eye…or maybe it was a tear. “We all need help sometimes. There is no shame in it. I can’t keep up with the boys. They’re all super energetic and the number of activities they are involved in is just too much for me. I’m going to stop being a stubborn woman and take my husband’s wise suggestion.”
I got it right away. Mom was conveying a message to Marley without preaching, using herself as an example. This was the way she’d always taught us lessons growing up, letting us make our own decisions, but always guiding with a firm touch. Unfortunately, we were all on to her clever antics.
Marley crossed her arms and nodded. “That’s a great idea, Mom…for you.” She didn’t take the bait.
“Excuse me,” Rick said in a low voice.
“I’ll help you,” I offered, picking up plates before he could object.
I craved more information and my sister was stiff-lipped about these things. She never wanted any of us to feel sorry for her. Her sense of pride was her greatest and most annoying trait.
“You don’t have to help,” Rick said once we reached the kitchen. “I’ve got this. Go out there and hang out with everyone.”
“Ah, I think your Machiavellian plan has enough participants.”
“That obvious, hey?” he asked, grinning slightly.
I started scraping the food off the plates and handing them to him. “Why do you think the accident has to do with her terrors?”
“I was behind her. I saw it all. As accidents go, it wasn’t her fault, but Marley’s a good driver. She had enough time to react. If she’d hit the breaks or s
lammed on her horn, I don’t think it would have happened. I can’t say for sure.”
“So you believe it’s because she’s tired?”
He threw a pot in the sink. It landed with a clatter. Thank goodness it wasn’t a plate. “Have you noticed how much she’s yawning lately? It’s not just the pregnancy, or lack of caffeine. My theory is she’s not sleeping on purpose.”
It took a moment to digest this. “To prevent a terror?”
“The other night was her third one. The other two were minor. A week ago, I found her on the bathroom floor reading a book at four in the morning. She said she wasn’t tired.”
“I don’t understand how quitting her job is going to solve this problem.”
“It won’t, but it’ll help. When we first got married, we tried a million different things. She doesn’t have terrors during the day if she takes short naps. She can’t do that if she’s at work.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”
“Why won’t she quit her job? I understand she wants to contribute, but some things are more important.”
“You really don’t get it?”
“No, I don’t have a fucking idea. If you do, please clue me in.”
“She has night terrors because of the rape. She hates that something that happened to her such a long time ago is still screwing with her life. Marley can’t move on. Not completely anyway, because of the nightmares. She keeps reliving it. She manages to make a life for herself despite all of those things. But if she quits her job because of it, then to Marley, it’s like letting her rapist win. Letting him control her choices once again. It’s like…”
“She getting raped again,” he finished, a look of anguish taking over his features.
“Exactly.”
We worked in silence for a while, me handing him dishes and him placing them in the dishwasher. He stopped our production line, staring out of the window to some point in the horizon.
“You know the worst thing about this, Billie? It’s all my fault. Every bit of it.”
“How can it be your fault?”
He chuckled but it had no humor in it, dying in his throat with a sadness that was airborne. “She wanted kids, but she didn’t want to be pregnant because she was afraid…of exactly this. She had a miscarriage last year.”
He’d just taken the plate from me otherwise, I would have dropped it. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.
“You were taking final exams. Marley didn’t want to worry you. We didn’t tell anyone except for your mom. No one even knew she was pregnant. We’d hoped to make it through the first trimester before announcing it, but we didn’t get that far. Marley’s doctor gave her a weaker prescription and it helped. When the miscarriage happened, she blamed the pills. To make matters worse, her OB wouldn’t confirm it wasn’t the medication, since it’s a new pill. I watched my wife suffer with that guilt. Instead of supporting her, I suggested we try again. She did it…for me. This time, she insists she won’t take anything stronger than a vitamin.”
“Oh, Rick, I’m so sorry,” I choked, trying to hold back my sobs. “But you guys should have told me.” I went to embrace him, but I also punched his arm in the process.
“It was Marley’s decision not to. If anything happens to her or the baby, it’s my fault.”
“It’s not. Don’t say that. Besides, Marley is going to be just fine. I’m going to be here to help you.”
“Thanks, Billie, I appreciate that. I really do, but I’m cancelling all my contracts for the rest of the year. I’m going to offer to telecommute. I’ll work from home and be here every day to watch over her. I need to do that.”
We finished loading up the dishwasher.
“Billie, thanks for talking to me. I probably shouldn’t have told you all that, but I needed to tell someone.”
“You can talk to me whenever you need to, Rick. When Marley married you, she got a husband but I got a great big brother.”
“Thanks. I feel the same way.” He finished wiping his side of the counter then threw the dishtowel to me. “Don’t worry about your job. I’ll need more help than ever now. We have to come up with a game plan to make all my accounts happy.”
My job hadn’t even entered the equation, not when we were talking about my sister’s health. But just as he said it, I saw a solution—one that he didn’t, which was ironic, since Rick worked as a professional problem solver, of sorts.
“Did you mean what you said about not needing me here to help with Marley at night?”
“I can take care of her. I need to do that, not just for her but for me. I’ve actually developed some techniques to calm her down during an attack.”
“I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right back.”
When I returned, Mom, Stevie and Dillon were surrounding Marley, who was clearly trying to fight back tears. Adam and Damien had taken the boys to the park.
I clapped my hands loudly. “Hey, you guys, I have some dish.”
“Dish is over,” Mom said.
“That’s not fair, I didn’t get to share my news.”
“I don’t think this is a good time,” Stevie said.
“It’s a great time. I want to hear your dish, Little Bird,” Marley insisted, heading toward the dining table.
Reluctantly, the others took their seats. “You too, Rick,” I said, holding out a chair for him.
When everyone resumed their places, I cleared my throat, pressed my palms to the table, and focused on Rick. “Dish—I’m quitting my job. Consider this my resignation, boss.” A stunned silence followed, so I had no choice but to puncture it. “Say something.”
“That’s very irresponsible of you. Rick needs you,” Marley said.
“It’s not as if I’m leaving him in a bind or anything.”
“You kind of are, but I don’t even care right now,” Rick muttered.
“I’m not. I found the perfect replacement. She has experience and you’ve even worked with her.”
I could see when realization hit, for some faster than others. “That’s right. Marley can be your assistant. And it’ll work out, because if she needs to take a long break…say for a nap, or something, she’ll have an understanding boss.” I turned to Marley, who graced me with one of her I-know-what-you’re-doing-but-I-like-the-way-you’re-doing-it looks. Classic Marley. “Plus, I’m sure they’ll understand at your work that your husband is in desperate need of help, since his current assistant just up and quit without any notice.”
I sat down, taking in a deep breath, ready to watch the mechanisms of my spontaneous strategy work. Rick nodded at me, smiling with such gratitude I almost choked up again when he mouthed the words ‘thank you’ before shoulder-bumping Marley. “Want to work with me again?”
“I don’t know. You distracted me a lot last time.”
“I can’t make any promises when it comes to that, but I do know we make a great team…in every way possible.”
Marley opened her mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again. “Wait, Billie, what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Don’t you need a job?” she asked.
“Oh, that’s not an issue. It’s the reason I’m quitting. I found something that interests me more. I’ll be working at a bar.”
“A bar?” Stevie asked. She’d remained usually quiet this whole time. It only supported how worried we all were about Marley. “It’s good to see all that tuition money getting a stellar education isn’t going to waste.”
Mom shot her a warning glance. “Billie is an adult. I’m sure she has thought carefully about her decision.”
Yeah, about fifty-two seconds. The time it had taken for Evan to confirm the job was still open.
“I have. The tips are great, the people interesting and most importantly, I’ll be working nights so I can write during the day. I think it’ll give me some much needed…creativity.”
Adam and Damien came in then, each carrying two boys without any difficulty
. They both looked relieved with the change in atmosphere. The triplets started playing with blocks. Dillon, unable to resist the lure of stacking objects, joined them.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Adam asked.
“Billie’s not working for Rick anymore. Marley is,” Stevie recapped.
“Marley hasn’t accepted the job yet,” I pointed out.
“I’d be honored to work for you again, Mr. Randy.”
“The honor is mine, Mrs. Randy,” he said, kissing her wrist.
“Where’s Billie going to work? Or is she just loafing again?” Adam asked.
“I never loafed.”
“Any more loafing and we would have checked you for mold,” Stevie said.
I turned toward him, answering the question. “For your information, I’ll be waitressing at this bar on the north side of town.”
Damien tilted his head. “The north side? How are you getting there?”
“It comes with an apartment. Oh yeah, I’m moving out, too,” I said. Rick and Marley had made me feel more than welcome in their house, but they needed this time together. I was also overdue for a kick in the pants, and since neither of them were capable of giving it to me, I might as well kick my own ass into gear. “This bird is flying the coop.”
“You don’t have to do that. We love having you here,” Marley said.
“You and Rick have been great to let me stay here, but I need to be on my own.”
“Where exactly is it?” Adam asked, his expression turning serious.
“Relax, it’s on Dowager, where they’re building the new lofts. The area’s going through a massive gentrification.”
“What’s the name of the bar?” Rick asked.
“It’s called The Lost Souls’ Club.”
“Cool name.”
“I know that place,” Adam said.
“You’ve been there?” Stevie asked him.
“No, I’ve been to the restaurant next to it.”
“Which restaurant?”
Adam adjusted the collar of his shirt, an unusual gesture for him. “Hot Chicks.”
Stevie raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Hot Chicks?”
Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Bobbie ran around singing ‘hot chicks’ while banging on an imaginary drum that was somehow attached to Adam’s right leg.