John squeezed her hand. “I’m not going to see her.”
He debated telling her about the rape accusation, but decided to wait until Monday. Monday was becoming an icon. On Monday, if things at the hospital didn’t go exactly the way he wanted, he was going to leave. There were fifteen big hospitals within commuting distance from his house, and most of them had openings in their anesthesia department. He knew he was going to be taking a major cut in pay, but it was the price he would have to pay, for his own self-respect and to get away from Karen. Beth had been talking about getting more hours at work; the kids were old enough now that she didn’t have to be there every second of the day. But he didn’t mention that, either. Let the moment of marital bliss linger.
The little white cottage could be seen over the tops of the blueberry bushes; approaching the house always evoked the same memories from Beth of the first time she went there to meet Alice, and the negative impression it had made remained to this day. For John, there was nothing but happy associations. He would make a point of saying something to his mother today; he could tell she was burdened by guilt. He thought his sisters Faye and April to be mean-spirited, small women who looked to blame all their bad choices on their mother. If the opportunity presented itself, he might corner both and tell them to grow up, to remain in the here and now. Dougie’s death had already ruined the peace of the family; a little truthfulness couldn’t do anymore harm.
Turning the car into the driveway, the sun setting over the roof of the cottage brought tears to his eyes. It was beautiful and reminiscent of his childhood, but he accepted that something larger was represented here, the melancholy of unfulfilled dreams. A person couldn’t go back. His father had been dead for twenty-five years. The insecurities his death fostered reared their ugly head from time to time, this evening with a vengeance. He was an adult, and the longings of a young boy gave rise to a building depression that he felt almost unable to face. It must be something inherent. He knew Faye battled some unspoken demons, and April’s and Lynn’s were out in the open for all to see. Everything that was happening to John would serve to force him to face his own.
“Are you okay?” Beth asked, concerned. “We don’t have to be here, you know.”
She dreaded the get-together, a pre-funeral gathering that couldn’t end well. Lynn drove back to Cedar Springs with Alice and her new boyfriend, a weird young man John’s age. Thinking about Faye’s kids gave Beth a headache. She hoped they’d be left at home. But as the thought flitted through her mind, Faye was pulling into her own driveway to pick up her children, all but Bill Junior, who asked to be pardoned; he was going out with friends. Vicky was already there when Alice and Dave arrived; she’d stopped at the store for snacks to serve and brought folding chairs along, too.
“I’m glad we made the effort to come,” John answered. “It’ll give me a chance to talk to Dave before the sisters arrive.”
Dave was waiting at the door and stood aside for them to enter. John noticed that the illusion of height was just that; he looked down at Dave as he passed him.
“Can I get you anything? We have beer and wine, soda and bottled water.”
“Just water for us,” John said, watching Dave move around the small kitchen. They sat down at the kitchen table. “Where’s my mother?”
“Lynn’s spending the night. They’re back in the bedroom getting her situated,” Dave answered. He brought two glasses of sparkling water over and placed them down on the table.
John tried to keep the frown off his face.
“Relax,” Beth said under her breath. “You’re making me nervous.”
“Do you feel it?” he asked. There was still something rubbing him the wrong way about Dave. Doing a quick nursing assessment, one he didn’t want to do, he came to a startling conclusion. He decided to wait and observe for a while. He wanted to be sure about it before he made any accusations. “Just watch.”
Now Beth was caught up in the examination of Dave, too. She didn’t see it at first, but once she started looking for it, it screamed out at her loud and clear. She grabbed John’s wrist with her eyes wide open, wiggling her nostrils.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Dave came over and sat down across from the couple with a cup of tea.
“I should’ve offered you tea or coffee. Sorry!” he said. “I would be happy to make you some.”
“What do you do for living, Dave? My mother said something about buying antiques.”
“I have a shop down in Fenwick Island. It was my grandmother’s, and when she couldn’t manage anymore, she passed it on to me. I worked with her since high school.”
“So you went to school down there, too?” John asked. “You can’t be too much older than I am.” He tried to keep a smile plastered on his face so he could get some answers. As soon as they got home, he’d start digging online.
“Right. Graduated class of ’91, Ocean City High School.”
Smiling, really very attractive with good teeth and nice skin, John got it, too. He went under the table and grabbed his wife’s hand.
“Wonder what’s keeping Alice? I’ll go check,” Dave said, pushing the chair back.
As soon as he was out of earshot, John and Beth looked at each other and whispered simultaneously, “Gay!” and John thought, big time. This guy was gay and either his mother was his beard, or he was genuine and they were, as Alice said, just companions.
“I think it’s none of our business, as long as he’s being good to your mother and she’s happy,” Beth said. “Alice finally has someone.” For some reason, out of nowhere, that fact choked her up. Alice had always been alone, keeping it together, sacrificing, and now she had someone in her life. Hopefully, Dave would shoulder some of the burden, make it possible for Alice to not have to go back to work. Her disability payments barely paid for her utilities in the tiny cottage. Why did it always come down to finances? she thought.
Lynn and Alice finally appeared. Next, Faye and April with all the children arrived. The chaos was overwhelming. John didn’t think any meaningful conversation would take place, but he didn’t know how he’d be able to get out without offending someone. So he sat and watched.
His sisters were really a bevy of gorgeous women. The thought surprised him. He’d never considered the physical appearance of his siblings; they looked too much alike. They were called “the redheads” in high school. For one year, all four of them went to the same school. Faye was in twelfth grade, down to April in ninth. In September, they avoided one another like the plague, but by May, they were crying on each other’s shoulders; Faye would be graduating and they knew once she escaped, as they called it, she was never coming back.
Faye was the most striking of the group. She was in fabulous physical shape. John was sure she must have had breast augmentation surgery. She moved with grace, but with the kind of measured precision of someone who knows they are being watched. However, there was a hardness to her features that John knew came of impatience and intolerance. She better be careful, he thought, or soon that fine line between exotic and ugly would be crossed. She was standing with her arms around her son Mario, who was with his back to her, listening to the adults. John wondered if he fully understood that Dougie was gone. They were the closest cousins in age, with John’s Doug next.
Faye was talking to Lynn, certainly an anomaly in the kitchen. Lynn? Who’s Lynn? She looked good, but there was a coarse texture to her skin and hair that living on the streets had produced. She had one hand up to her breast, so John surmised she must be telling Faye about her unfortunate news.
April was the only one of the three that it could be said was beautiful. She was beautiful like the oil paintings of the alabaster-skinned redheads of ancient Ireland were known to be. Alcohol hadn’t yet taken its toll on her face, but it wouldn’t be long. She was holding Mark on her hip.
Todd Junior, with his little arm in a cast, looked like a small bird begging for food. He was straining to look up at his mother, c
rying for her attention. She was making an attempt to comfort him by stroking his head, but it wasn’t enough. Beth watched for a moment, and when she couldn’t take it anymore, she got up and went over to him. She kissed April on the cheek.
“Can Aunt Beth pick you up?” Beth asked the small boy. At five, he was about thirty pounds.
“I weigh too much,” he said, getting ready to giggle.
“I’ve picked up sandwiches that weigh more than you!” Beth said, teasing.
So he reached up to her, and she bent over, using good body mechanics, and picked him up, being careful not to extend his busted ulna.
“Wow! You are heavy!” she said, laughing, and Todd Junior laughed too, wrapping his legs around her waist. But then, without warning, when she placed her hand on the back of his head, it triggered something, and he started to moan. No one was sure if the sound was happy; there was enough of a lilt to it that even Beth wasn’t positive, but then he cried out in earnest, “Dougie, Dougie,” and the other children started to cry, too. Mario turned around in Faye’s arms and buried his face in her clothing, crying, and her girls broke down, as well. They surrounded their grandmother and their aunts and mother, clinging to each other, crying.
John was paralyzed; he sat at the table and watched the scene, amazed. Is this the same family that doesn’t acknowledge each other’s birthdays? That balks at having to gather for a holiday? It’s shocking; we really love each other, he thought. About ten minutes after they’d arrived, he was ready to leave, thinking there was no reason on earth to be there, and Beth told him to relax. It was important they stay for whatever reason, and now John saw what that was. His wife’s tenderness to a five-year-old boy was the catalyst needed to start the family on its grief roller coaster. Looking around the room, he saw Dave trying to fade into the walls, red-eyed, miserable. The poor guy, John thought. He really walked into a hornets’ nest when he picked up Alice. He got up from the table and went to Dave, putting his arm around his shoulder.
“You okay, buddy?” he asked. “I guess your timing’s kinda crappy.”
Dave snickered. “Alice’s worth it,” he said, his voice squeaking with emotion. “I’m glad I could be here for her.” He reached over to a box of tissues and pulled one out.
John backed off, giving the guy some room. “Yeah, my mom’s a gem,” he said, hoping Dave would reveal more about his intentions. Why would a gay guy spend so much time with his mother? It just didn’t ring true. He nodded his head in agreement, but didn’t reply. If there was anything else to find out, John wasn’t going to discover it tonight; Dave was keeping to himself.
~ ~ ~
Vicky’s snacks weren’t enough to stave off hunger, so little by little the party broke up. Lynn was staying with Alice and Dave, and April and the boys would return to Faye’s. John and Beth were the first to go, everyone saying they would be together again the following day when Dougie’s funeral took place at ten in the morning.
“As soon as we get home, I’m going to Google this guy. There is just something not right,” John said.
“Doesn’t being gay explain it?” Beth asked.
“No, it doesn’t,” John replied. “He is in love with my mother, whether he’s gay or not. Something isn’t adding up.”
They drove in silence while scenarios ran through their heads. He was married. An ex-con, a pedophile, a cult leader, a womanizer, a money grubber; the list went on and on.
“Well, don’t get yourself worked up,” Beth said.
She just wanted the day to be over so they could get back to their life. It looked like John wasn’t moving out. It was something she didn’t have to think about. His infidelity was another matter. She wanted to pretend it never happened, but somehow, she knew that might be unrealistic. She looked at his profile in the dark car. Did she even know her husband? He had so much power over her sense of well-being, yet there was a side to him she was out of touch with. Would he choose a different life if he wasn’t encumbered by family? she wondered, deciding to be as positive as she could. Trying to finagle an apology out of him wasn’t going to work. Last night when he was making love to her, she thought he might have been making both a declaration of love and giving her as much of a recommitment as John was capable of. In their youth, she used to refer to him in her private thoughts as a “silent fucker.” He never said a word when they were having sex. She just took it for granted that he loved her and wanted her; he was inside her, wasn’t he?
But last night he was choked up when he’d said he loved her, and repeated to her twice that he thought she was beautiful. He went nuts playing with her boobs, too. She was dying to ask him if he missed them, but bit her tongue. She didn’t want to ruin the mystique. So she’d let it go. It would be enough that he’d returned, that they were sleeping together again. She just wanted her family intact.
They arrived at the house; she was so proud as they pulled up, the exterior landscape lighting always bringing pleasure to her. She was glad they’d spent the money. John provided a comfortable life for the family. She contributed, but it was his hard work that was the basis for it. The car came to a stop, and they got out together.
“I want to go right on the computer and find out what I can about Dave Jensen.”
Beth yawned as she reached for his hand. He was unlocking the door, distracted.
“Just leave it alone,” she said. “He seems like an all right guy.”
“No, I can’t. There’s more to uncover. I can feel it.”
They went their separate ways—Beth off to see what the kids were doing and John to his office. He shut the door, opening the lid of his laptop. He ignored the emails, sure there had to be some from Fred and Karen and whoever else wanted to put their two cents in. He’d deal with work on Monday and not a second sooner. Instead, he typed Dave Jensen, Fenwick Island in the search line across the top of his computer screen. Up popped two listings for Dave, Gramma’s Antiques and a review for a veterinary clinic. Dave Jensen evidently thought Cross Creek Clinic was the best animal hospital around. The third listing was for Jensen, Donna. The third, fourth and fifth listings, that is. Donna Jensen graduation from University of Delaware with a degree in English literature. Donna Jensen Linked In profile. Donna Jensen White pages.
John scratched his head. He thought it odd that a forty-year-old business owner could stay under the radar. Dave didn’t have a business website or a twitter account. Then he got an idea. He was a member of Classmates.com. He typed in the URL, and when his profile came up, typed in Ocean City High School. Then, Dave Jensen, class of 1991. He was nowhere to be found. Defeated, John closed the cover of his computer. He opened it again and went back to Classmates.com and typed in Donna Jensen, class of 1991. There she was. He clicked on the picture, and it enlarged. He banged his fist on the desk and hollered, “Beth,” at the top of his lungs. She came running.
“For God’s sake, John, what the hell is wrong?”
He waved her over. “Just look at this, will you, please? You tell me who that is,” John said, pointing at the screen. “Who is that?”
Beth pulled up a stool and sat next to her husband, straining to see the screen.
It was a picture of a female, someone who was not familiar at all, but then maybe she was.
“I have no idea,” she said. “Who is it?”
“Look! It’s a fucking woman!” John was rocking back in his chair, pleased that he’d solved the mystery, but sick to his stomach.
“I can see that. Who?” Beth asked. And then, recognition. “Not Dave.”
“Yes—fucking Dave. Dave is a woman.”
Chapter 25
The next morning three cars full of people left Cape May County and headed north on the New Jersey Turnpike to attend the funeral of a seven-year-old boy. Everyone felt sick, and they were all sad, but John and Beth were sick and worried. The key question for John was did his mother know her boyfriend had been a woman? If she did, they were fine with it. It was her business. But for some reason, J
ohn doubted that Alice knew. His mother was a simple person who wore her heart on her sleeve. If Dave was a woman and she knew about it, everyone within her circle would know, too. He was almost certain she didn’t know.
They’d talked about it into the early morning hours. “Why would my mother waste her time with a transsexual? I don’t get it,” John asked.
“Do you think she knows?” Beth asked, pensive. “Just because he was once a woman doesn’t mean anything. He’s now a man. And in case you haven’t noticed, men haven’t exactly been beating a path to Alice’s door. She might feel she doesn’t have any other options.”
John exploded. “What the hell does that mean, Beth?” he yelled defensively. “My mother never had the time to date before. She wasn’t interested.”
Beth reached out for his arm. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her husband pace. He was furious, wringing his hands, needing to protect Alice but unable to. She was an adult. They finally went to sleep with unanswered questions. For Beth, the biggest was what difference did it make? And for John, is my mother being taken advantage of? They would resume talking when they got up.
But now, with a car full of children, they were silent. They’d agreed that the topic was off limits until after the funeral. The plan was to go back to Alice’s; Aunt Vicky would fix a simple luncheon. The alternative was Todd’s family, and they all agreed it would be too traumatic for April unless she wanted to go. They’d be supportive of whatever she decided.
~ ~ ~
In Dave’s truck, Alice was silent, every so often putting a tissue to her eye when the reality of the trip seized her. “Such a tragedy,” she’d repeat, shaking her head.
Lynn reached forward from the back seat to grab her shoulder each time Alice said it. Lynn didn’t really know Dougie, but the idea that a little life could be so easily extinguished made her sad. Looking at the passing scenery, she longed for the concrete pavement in Delaware and her anonymity. Her biopsy and possible mastectomy was scheduled for Tuesday morning, and she hadn’t approached her mother about recovering at the cottage because she wasn’t sure yet she’d be able to tolerate the confinement. Having to go without pain medication was preferable to imprisonment under Alice’s suffocating care.
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