by K Carr
“Shall we stop the party?” Betty asked as Connor brushed past her.
“I don’t know,” he grumbled before walking off.
Betty reached for me and gently rubbed my arm up and down. It was an act of comfort, of support, and one Connor hadn’t allowed her to give to him; hence my arm being rubbed. I understood even though she wouldn’t say it, how much she wanted us to know she was here for us. Guilt over the way I had been deliberately avoiding my in-laws seeped into me. They only wanted to help us heal – but I couldn’t heal the way they wanted us to. I didn’t follow their beliefs. There was no altar for me to lay down my troubles and receive redemption in exchange for my faith.
“I should go and see,” My words trailed off into a jumbled mess as I pulled away from her touch.
Betty followed me down the hallway. Walking into the living room where the majority of guests were milling around was awful. Everyone started lobbing questions at me about Megan’s well-being and Connor was nowhere to be seen. After a few minutes of me assuring everyone she was fine – hollow words, my daughter was not fine – I escaped into the kitchen under the pretence of getting a drink.
“Oh, hey, Seb,” I injected as much enthusiasm as I could into my voice. Damn it. I thought everyone was in the living room.
“How’s Meggie?” he asked, moving away from the side door which led outside. Had he just been outside?
“Fine,” came my automatic reply. “Just overwhelmed, I guess. Too much sugar, too much excitement. She’ll be fine.” Yeah right, my brain mocked me.
Seb sighed, slowly shaking his head at me as he walked across the kitchen and came to a stop in front of me. “Jennifer,”
“Yes, Seb,” There was a coolness to my demeanour. Whatever Seb planned on saying I knew I wouldn’t like. His expression was one of fatherly worry. I didn’t need his worry. My mood couldn’t get any lower and I already knew the end result of any conversation we could possibly have: religious stuff I didn’t have the energy to deal with.
He studied my face, shook his head again then asked, “What does Meggie want for her birthday? I know it’s a couple of months away but Betty and I want to get her something extra special this year. Her last birthday was,” He cleared his throat. “Last year was difficult.”
I sidestepped him. “I’ll ask her and get back to you.”
“I was hoping we could have her spend a weekend over at ours. Maybe next weekend?” He turned around and once again his frame filled the immediate space in front of me. With eyes a shade slightly darker than his son’s, he tried to mask his desperation behind a wide grin. “It’s been a while since she’s turned our house upside down.”
Months in fact. They would be missing the mayhem. Connor was an only child and my in-laws thoroughly enjoyed having their grandchildren over in the past. How were they dealing with Cory’s death? I couldn’t remember when last I had asked. Fear of their religious slant on anything pertaining to death kept me from asking. Sidestepping him again, I extended an olive branch. “We’ll see, Seb. Maybe we can arrange something in the next few weeks.” I made my escape from the kitchen and my father-in-law, only to bump into Moira. Shit. I couldn’t catch a break? Not one? This time she had her husband at her side.
“Jenny, how is Megan?” Moira was straight in there. “We heard the commotion all the way downstairs!”
I knew it came from a place of concern but I was also aware she held the whispered title of busybody on our street. My expression remained pleasant as I waved her concern away. “She’s fine,” I knew my daughter wasn’t fine and the more people kept fucking asking me about her, the more my anxiousness rose. “Just a bit over-excited and over-tired.” I turned to Grant. “How are you, Grant? I don’t think we’ve had a chance to talk since I got here.” My brief laugh felt bogus and I hoped my features stayed in the pleasant mask I wore. “How’s work?”
And there was my way out. Grant loved any opportunity to talk about his career. His face brightened and he opened his mouth to probably launch into a long-winded explanation on what his department was working on at the minute. What was his actual job title? Hell if I knew. I would let him waffle on for five/ten minutes then politely but expeditiously run away.
“Grant,” Moira tapped his upper arm, none to gently in my opinion. “The last thing Jenny wants to talk about is your work,”
“But she just asked me,” Grant protested to no avail.
Ignoring her husband’s affront, Moira turned the conversation back to the drama that was my life. “When are you and Megan coming back home?”
“Moira,” Grant chastised, shooting me an embarrassed look. “That really isn’t any of our business.”
I knew there was a reason I preferred Grant to his wife, never mind the yearly barbeque they held which was always good fun. Grant was a pro behind the grill.
“Shush,” Moira tutted at him. “Jenny and I are friends. I was the first person to welcome them to the neighbourhood,” She laid a hand on my arm. “Do you remember that? I brought you a sweet potato pie,”
I managed another small smile and nodded. The sweet potato pie which Connor had binned after one bite. He had been out on a job while I had been trying to sort out the boxes of our belongings in our new home. I wasn’t a lover of sweet potato pie and left the ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ gift for him.
“It was lovely,” I maintained the lie. It was years too late to confess what had happened to that first pie, and the many others she had brought to our house over the years. Maybe we should’ve told her we didn’t like sweet potato pie in that first instance, but I didn’t want us to be the awkward new neighbours who alienated everyone on the street. “Erm, you’ll have to excuse me, I need to have a quick word with Betty.”
Another necessary lie. Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone? I didn’t head to the front living room, I made my escape to the back of the house and slipped out the sliding glass doors which lead onto the patio. It took a few moments to simply acknowledge being on my back patio. It had been a while since I had been out here. There were a few signs of neglect. The grass was a touch longer than Connor used to allow. The rose border on the far side was overgrown with weeds and the rose bushes definitely needed to be pruned. I should’ve pruned them last year but shit happened. It sucked being here.
“Jennifer,”
I spun around at the sound of Betty’s voice. She hurried through the patio doors and slid them close behind her. My heart sank as I weighed up the chances of this becoming one of her ‘talks’.
“Hey, Betty,” I greeted her with a small smile.
“Moira told me you wanted a word,”
Fucking Moira. Why did she have to stick her nose in where it wasn’t wanted? There it was again, the damned place of concern. Everyone was so fucking concerned! I was sick of it.
“Did she?” I feigned confusion. “She must be mistaken.”
Betty ran a hand through her hair, flicking it over her shoulder before peering out into the back garden. “The roses need pruning,” she mused. “I’ll get Seb to do it next weekend.”
I didn’t offer up a reply. If Betty wanted to donate her husband’s free time, I wouldn’t stop her. It didn’t concern me as I didn’t live here anymore. Connor could pave over the whole lawn for all I cared…ok, that was a lie, but I had grown used to lying to myself of late. Little lies to get through each day.
“I think Connor is wrapping the party up,” Betty advised. “He was talking to a couple of people-”
“He’s downstairs?” I queried.
“Yes,” Betty confirmed. “I was about to start sharing out the remaining food to anyone who wants some.”
“Good idea,” I agreed with the sentiment. There had been quite a bit of leftover food on the table. Betty hesitated and I wasn’t sure why until she asked if I wanted to help with that. Be in the midst of the remaining guests? Having to field more questions about my daughter’s heart-breaking outburst? Pretending to ignore the pitying glances sent my
way? No thank you. I shook my head. “I think I’m just going to stay out here for a little while,” I flashed what I hoped was a reassuring smile when worry began to pool into her eyes. “To clear my head.”
“Ok,” Betty raised her hand to squeeze my shoulder. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” She patted my shoulder and dropped her hand to her side. “For anything. Ok?”
I nodded.
“Good,” Still she hesitated. Betty wrapped her arms around her waist and held my gaze. “I went to the cemetery last week.”
“Oh,” I couldn’t say anything else.
“Took some fresh flowers,” she murmured then smiled. “I prayed for him.”
I didn’t mention I thought her prayers were meaningless. What good were prayers when you were dead? If sitting by her grandson’s grave and praying for him gave her comfort, who was I to take it away from her? Betty was free to seek comfort however it best suited her. As long as she didn’t start up with trying to recruit me into the supposedly welcoming arms of organized religion. I wondered if my in-laws would ever give up on that quest. It had been years and they were no closer to getting me on side.
“Ok.” It was all I needed to say.
She nodded once and turned towards the patio doors. “I’ll be inside if you need me.” I watched her slide the doors open and slip back inside. She slid them close and moved away but not before giving me a small smile.
Betty no doubt heard the unspoken things in my ‘ok’. I’m certain she saw the unwavering cynicism on my face and knew better than to push it today. Like I said, they’d been trying for years to convert me to their way of thinking, and here we were all this time later with me still firmly on the side of realism. I was tired and wanted to go back to my mom’s to cry. To scream and lash out as Megan had earlier. I wanted to stamp my feet and hurl foul curses at everyone.
But I didn’t do any of those things, I stood on the back patio and stared at the overgrown rose bushes.
I must’ve been outside for a while because the sharp tapping against the patio door broke me from the gloomy trance-like state I had found myself in. Turning around I saw Seb opening the door and beckoning me in.
“We’re getting ready to leave,” he began.
“You are?” Quickly, I approached him. How long had I been staring at the damn rose bushes?
“Yes,” Seb stepped back so I could get inside. I closed the patio doors and automatically locked it behind me as he spoke. “Paul and Susan are going back to ours to see the new basement. Almost everyone else has left.”
I felt bad. “Where’s Connor?”
“Helping his mom pack the car. There’s a lot of food left over so she’s taking it to our church tomorrow.” He held his arms open, silently requesting a hug. Hiding my reluctance, I complied. Seb patted my back. “You’ll let us know when we can have Meg. Yes? Anytime you choose, we don’t mind. We’ll work on your schedule.”
“I’ll let you know,” I replied and he let me go.
“Alright then,” Seb shuffled on his feet, as if undecided over his next move.
Suspecting he was about to try and pin me down to a firm timeframe, even though he’d just said he would work with my schedule, I avoided any further conversation with a simple but effective, “I’ll go say my goodbyes to Rose and the others.”
Ten minutes later I was alone in the living room with my husband and watching him balance one of his presents on top the other. It had slid off when he walked past the pile. My gaze kept jumping around the space, kept landing on the mantelpiece shelf which held quite a few framed family photos. There was no safe area I could affix my gaze without fear of feeling the pit in my stomach widen. Connor straightened up and ran a hand through his hair. He walk to the sofa, sat down on its arm and scratched his chin.
“I guess we should just get to the point.” he started. “About what happened earlier with Meggie,”
I didn’t feel comfortable being alone in the house with him. Unwelcomed memories of when we first bought the property kept popping into my head, memories of how we had made it into a home...the two of us at first, then the children. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I physically and mentally couldn’t be here anymore. Not with him. Not alone with him. Not here. I didn’t want to be here.
“I’ll figure it out,” There was tension building between my ears. The last thing I wanted was a headache. “Don’t worry about it.”
“What do you mean don’t worry about it?” Connor jumped off the sofa arm and started pacing. “I am worried about it. You should be worried about it too.”
“I meant,” I was trying to remain polite. “I would take care of it, of her.”
“It’s not helping that she’s not here, Jen. She needs to be home-”
I cut him off with an exasperated, “Oh don’t give me that bull. My mom’s house is just as much her home as here is.”
Connor stopped mid-step and turned in my direction. “Are you being serious right now? Do you even listen to yourself?”
“Look, I know we agreed to talk about this but I can sort it out myself. I’ll deal with it.” I rubbed my forehead and tried not to let my gaze drift back to the pictures on the mantelpiece. “I should go. This isn’t going anywhere and I have things to do.”
If I was irritated, then Connor was incensed, at least going off the expression currently residing on his face. He took a few loud breaths, maybe to try and calm himself down….or maybe it was his way of wordlessly pointing out I was getting on his nerves.
“What’s more important than trying to keep this family together?” he snapped.
I paused, silently wondering if it was drugs. It had to be drugs. He had to be doing fucking drugs to throw that comment at me. Knowing it was best to just leave, I let out a little dry chuckle and shook my head. The action made him angrier.
“Is this funny to you?” he dragged out.
It was me breathing deeply now. Just walk away, I told myself. But my mouth wasn’t happy with letting things slide. “You’re a joke, Connor.” I huffed.
He glared at me for a few seconds. “What do you mean? I’m a joke. I’m trying to have a serious discussion with you-”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” I grumbled. “I said I would deal with it. Ok? Just leave it alone and I’ll sort it out.”
“Are you kidding me?” Connor rubbed his chin in disbelief. “This isn’t a game, Jen. This is serious-”
“I know that.” I said through clenched teeth. I needed to get the hell up out of here. The audacity of him, standing there as if he was some paragon of parental knowledge…it provoked my senses, it stirred the rage inside me.
“Then act like you know,” he retorted. “Because right now you’re acting very,” Whatever he was about to say he thought better of it. I could see it in his expression, there was more he wanted to say but he was biting his tongue.
“Very what?” I asked in a tight voice. “Huh? Very what, Connor?” I sneered at him for a good few seconds, snorting derisively and spoiling for a fight. I was furious with him. A part of me knew my reaction was perhaps due to the stress of being back home, being back in this place, but I didn’t want to do any objective self-assessment. I was furious and his current behaviour was fuelling the rage inside me; similar to a bomb, I was primed, charged, ready to blow.
Shaking his head, he took a step towards me. “Can we please, just this once, have a calm discussion? Can you do that? Are you capable of putting aside this-” He waved his hands wildly through the air. “Our problems to talk about our daughter? Can you try and do that, Jen?”
And there was the spark to light the fuse of my volatile rage. “You patronizing piece of shit.” I hurled from trembling lips. “Who do you think you’re speaking to?” I stepped back, hands clasped tightly behind my back because I knew, I just knew if we got too close to each other I would kill him with my bare hands. In that moment I knew without a doubt I could do it and feel nothing. “Because it seems to me you’ve forgotten that you ar
e the reason behind all of our problems. Yeah. You. How dare you stand there-” The words were choking me. “You are the last person on this earth who should be giving advice on what’s best for Megan.” I took a breath, callously adding, “Or any child for that matter. We only need to look at past behaviours.”
“Damn you to hell.” he spat angrily.
“Right back at you.” I could be petty too.
Connor ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in what could only be described as incredulity. “Do you have any idea of what I’m going through? Of what this past year has been like for me?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck!” I exploded. “I don’t give one fuck, nor two fucks. Don’t give a green fuck, or blue fuck.” My face felt hot. I felt light-headed, as if I was about to pass out from rage. “I don’t care what you’re going through-”
“I lost a child too!” he screamed at me. “My son is dead too, but you can’t see that can you? Oh no. It’s all about Jennifer.” Connor spun around, giving me his back. His shoulders heaved up and down as his loud ragged breathing filled the space. “You’re so fucking selfish. I have tried to be there for you, but you won’t let me! Did you ever stop to think that maybe I need you too? I NEED YOU!” He turned back to face me. “But you’re right. You don’t give a flying fuck about me. Or the fact it’s killing me inside knowing that it’s my fault Cory is dead.”
I closed my eyes and twisted my head to the side. I didn’t want to hear him say it. I didn’t want to know how much it was eating him up inside. I didn’t want to care.
“Look at me.” Connor yelled. “Damn it. Fucking look at me.”
I gave him what he wanted and looked at him.
“Do you really think you can hate me any more than I hate myself?” he asked. His face was twisted with anger, and despair. “Do you think I don’t know that I’m a worthless piece of shit who was responsible for his son’s death?”