by F. M. Isaacs
“Um, Jack, I know all the stories about my parents,” I reminded him gently.
He suddenly drew near me in a flash of angry energy. “No you don't! You know zero!”
A very surprised Daniel cautioned his father, “Dad! Let's not make everyone miserable!”
Matthew saw my discomfort. He pushed in front of me, nudging his father back down in the bed. “Dad, I wish you'd let yourself get better. Agree to a transplant already. Dialysis can only go so far. And stop fighting the nurses and doctors. Let them do what they need to do.” He rubbed his father's arm, attempting to calm him.
Jack thrust him away. “I don't need them. I don't need any of that. I need Patricia.”
Daniel looked alarmed, and I was horrified. Jack and Mom's relationship had concluded long ago! That was ancient history! Was he seriously still pining for her after nearly twenty years?
“Dad, you don't know what you're saying,” Matthew uttered.
“Oh, but she can help me. She'll heal me and make me all better.” His eyes sought me out. “Can you do it too, Corinne?”
“Mom's a dentist, Dad,” Daniel said in annoyance. “She fixes teeth.”
Jack went on as if Daniel had not spoken. “Corinne. Yes, I couldn't give your mom a girl. She refused to have any more children, yet she had no problem having another one with Julian! And he gave her a girl, no less! Julian, traveling all around, and never–”
Daniel had undoubtedly had enough. “Dad!” he burst out. “What are you saying all this for? Listen to yourself! What's Corinne supposed to think?”
An aide entered with Jack's lunch, setting it beside him on the table. Matthew stuck a straw into the container of juice and patted his father on the back. “Dad, eat and rest. Heal. Get well. We'll come back tomorrow when you're feeling better.”
But Jack wasn’t finished with his rant. Dismissively, he waved Matthew away. “And watch out for Brian too, Corinne. He can do...stuff. Crazy stuff.”
“Okay, Dad. You don't want the juice? Fine. Eat.” Matthew picked up a sandwich and forced it into his father's hand.
“Matthew, bring your mom to me tomorrow. I beg you to.”
I was staring into Jack's eyes when he said this. And it shocked me.
He seemed completely lucid.
AS WE WALKED OUT OF the hospital, Daniel mumbled under his breath, just like Grandpa Brian did when he was mad. Matthew's eyes were bright. “'Grandpa Brian can do crazy stuff'...I think Dad's losing it.”
“Hardly,” Daniel snorted.
I hadn't really thought that Jack still had feelings for my mom. He didn't get along well with my dad, which was understandable. And I think Dad secretly found the whole situation very amusing. “Guys, he's on all kinds of medications. He probably doesn't know what he's saying,” I added, without actually believing it myself. The way Jack appeared so sure of his words bothered me. I was rather stung by his outburst, however, so I wasn't too thrilled about defending him.
“He knows exactly what he's saying,” Daniel said, ducking into his car.
Matthew and I glanced at each other in confusion, then followed our brother. We drove home, avoiding any mention of Jack.
WE FOUND MOM AT THE kitchen table with her laptop. Before we could greet her, Daniel announced, “Mom, Dad wants to see you tomorrow.”
Flustered, my mother looked up from the computer. “But tomorrow's the party. I have to prepare, and make the food, and...” She scrolled down a web page, checking it closely.
“We'll go in the morning so you can go too,” Daniel decided without asking for input from any of us. “It would mean a lot to him. In fact, maybe you should have visited him when he first got into the hospital.” Not bothering to wait for a reply, he trudged upstairs.
Matthew peered after his brother. “What's with him?”
Mom swiveled around in her chair to face us. She twiddled a pen in her fingers, shaking her head. “I'm worried about him. Everything happened at once, and Daniel hasn't taken it so well. Jack's parents passing away, then Jack almost dying and his illness... Honestly, Matthew, you're doing much better, it seems. It also didn't help that Daniel broke up with his girlfriend.”
“Tara? He didn't tell me he broke up with her!” Matthew exclaimed.
He hadn't told me either, and Daniel used to tell me about every girl he'd ever seen.
“I think she couldn't take how depressing and negative he'd become.”
“But he was better for a bit,” I pointed out. It was true. He'd been depressed, and then suddenly he'd been fine. More than fine, in fact, he seemed to have gotten a new lease on life. He was full of energy, all excited, and then very recently, he slumped back into hopelessness. I assumed this was because everyone was mad at him. Perhaps Matthew could figure out why. He was good with stuff like that.
“He did tell me you're all driving him crazy and won't let him make his own decisions, but he wouldn't elaborate–” Matthew offered.
Mom clipped the end of his sentence. “How's Jack?”
Matthew appeared uncomfortable with the new direction the conversation was taking. He walked off to get a glass from the cabinet. “Dad's all drugged up,” he replied over his shoulder.
“He thinks you're going to heal him, Mom,” I inserted with a laugh.
My mother didn't react how I expected her to. She simply nodded. “Right...” she answered, drawing the word out longer than necessary.
Matthew stopped by the refrigerator before taking anything out of it. “Will you come? I do think it would make Dad happy to see you.”
Sighing, Mom nodded her head again. “I guess I owe him that.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Hannah called later, begging me to babysit for Shaina that night. Her close friend was in town, and her older children had a party to attend. Well, a bit of pocket money never hurt.
She and Andrew lived in a small ranch-style house. The exterior was clean and well-kempt if unassuming, but the couple obsessed over keeping the interior up-to-date and beautifully furnished. They enjoyed entertaining family and friends as often as possible.
When I arrived, Hannah gave me some basic bedtime instructions for Shaina, and then she and Andrew hurried out. Shaina was happily occupying herself building a palace with Legos, and quite content to be playing by herself. I stepped behind her and sifted through the family library. Andrew was an avid reader, and, like Jonas, he preferred paper books to e-books. He also shared my uncle’s and grandfather’s deep interest in history. Medieval Europe ranked high on Andrew’s list, and I chuckled when I pulled out a set of books on Hungary. “Allen would love these,” I said aloud.
Shaina glanced up from her project. “Prince Andrew is in that one.” She pointed to a volume entitled, “Kingdom of Hungary 1301-1526”.
I smiled. “I think that's just a story, Shaina.”
“No. Daddy says there really was a Prince Andrew.” She bowed her head. “He says that maybe the rest of the story isn't real, though. Mommy said that sometimes stories are written about famous people, and over the years, things get changed.”
“That's very true. The Sad Little Peahen is a fairy tale.” I glanced at the clock. “Listen, it's time for bed.”
Shaina frowned. “Only if you read me The Sad Little Peahen.”
I rose. “Oh, come on, Shaina. I let you stay up late already. And you're old enough that you can read on your own.”
“Please? Mommy would,” she begged.
“Sorry, kid. It’s eight-thirty. Time to get to sleep.”
“Mommy would've,” she grumbled once more as I put her in bed and tucked her in.
ALMOST AN HOUR AFTER I'd put Shaina to sleep, she wandered into the TV room where I sat. Her face was pale.
“Someone's outside,” she whimpered.
I jumped up and made sure the outside door was locked. The idea that something bad would happen when I was babysitting always scared me. What if there was a crazy killer outside? How would I protect us? I pulled my phone from my pocket,
poised to dial 911 if necessary. With my heart pounding, I proceeded to walk through every room of the house, scanning outside the windows and then closing any open blinds. Shaina tagged along behind me, emitting an occasional whimper.
Finally, finding nothing amiss, I calmed down enough to ask, “Shaina, everything seems fine. Why did you think someone's outside?”
“I could feel someone's eyes on me.”
“Where?”
“When I was sleeping in my bed.”
I let out a breath, feeling like an idiot. “Shaina,” I put my arm around her and guided her toward her bedroom. “You were dreaming. Go back to sleep.”
“But–”
My thoughts went back to the night I'd dreamed of the invisible creatures, and I shuddered involuntarily. “I've had that happen too. It's just a dream. It's scary, but it's not real.” Seeing the frightened young girl made me embarrassed at how I'd responded in the same situation. I really had overreacted.
I pointed at the window. “Your shade is closed, so you're fine there.” I even opened the closet door, hanging back a bit in case there was a murderer inside. Luckily, there wasn't.
“No one in the closet. So how could anyone look at you?”
She shrugged. “Guess you're right. I was having a dream.”
I coaxed her back into bed, and she fell quickly asleep. The reassuring sound of the garage opening met my ears minutes later, and I was very happy when Andrew drove me home.
IT WAS TWELVE-THIRTY that same night, and I tried to go to bed, but I was so excited for the next day's party that I couldn't sleep myself. My parents were downstairs, conversing quietly, and a delicious smell of cooking wafted in the air. I checked out my bedroom window to see if any exotic creatures were lurking in my yard, but there wasn't anything noteworthy except a large, pretty moth and an opossum slinking around the underbrush.
I crept downstairs and into the kitchen, immediately stepping back in awe. Steaming plates of food covered most of the counters. The kitchen table held snacks, cutlery, plates, and drinks, all precisely aligned and ready to be brought outside. Mom stood next to Dad by the oven. They were surprised to see me.
“You're making a habit of getting up in the middle of the night, Corinne,” Dad commented. He tried to sample a cookie but my mother swatted at him. “Your mother's been working hard,” he pointed out, gesturing at the myriad platters as if otherwise I might miss seeing them.
“Mom, how did you cook this all so fast?” I breathed. The counter nearest her boasted trays of meats, side dishes, and desserts that made my mouth water just viewing them.
Dad put his arm around Mom, who was now struggling to remove a large cake from the oven. “That's Patricia for you!” he beamed with pride.
“Oh, Julian,” my mother reddened at his words.
I stared at the food. It was everything I liked, all done to perfection.
My mom is amazing.
CHAPTER SIX
The next morning, we walked through the bleak hospital corridor, my mother tight-lipped. I could only imagine how she felt, visiting her ex-husband as he lay in his sickbed. I know she was doing it more for my brothers than for Jack himself, but it was still nice of her.
I never asked too much about her previous marriage, and she rarely spoke of it. She had said at one point that she and Jack “were not meant to be together”. Their relationship just fizzled away through the years, and she ended up back with Dad, who had been her high school sweetheart.
Originally, my parents had broken up when Dad went to college, but he never got over Mom. He briefly was married to a girl named Katie, but it was on the rebound, and she left him because they never “had fun” together. She always wanted to go to clubs and exotic vacations, while he struggled through medical school. How was he supposed to be doing “fun things” when he was studying all the time?!
But fate finally got my parents back together, and here I was, Corinne Lisette Greene in the flesh.
I watched my mother as we neared Jack's room. Her face was contorted with stress, and I realized – after all these years, she still felt guilty.
Jack never remarried, although he'd been involved with several women. But now he was sick and unhappy, and I think Mom saw herself as partly responsible.
So maybe she really was here for him too.
Daniel and Matthew went into Jack's room first, and I heard Matthew gasp, “Dad! Why are you out of bed? What's going on?”
“We brought Mom!” Daniel added in a confused voice.
I entered with my mother. The bed looked freshly-made, and a healthy, animated Jack stood packing his belongings into a plastic hospital bag. He started to lift it, but Matthew darted over to him and snatched it away. “Dad, no! Let me help you!”
Jack simply blinked at his son. “You have it...” he breathed, his face expressing shock, joy, and pride all at the same time.
“Have what?” exclaimed Matthew, bewildered. “Dad, what happened? You look so much better, I–”
“They're dismissing me. I am better. And thanks for coming, Patricia, but I don't need you now,” Jack delivered to Mom smugly. “I have our son.” He put his arm around Matthew.
Matthew's mouth hung open. “What are you talking about, Dad?”
Wide-eyed, Mom stared at my brother, not her miraculously-cured ex-husband. “Really, Jack?” she uttered. “They said you're fine?”
“The doctors can't understand it. But I do. And Matthew's the only one that came near me. Not Daniel, not Corinne.”
“Came near you? Dad, what the hell is going on?” Matthew yelled. His usually cool exterior was melting away fast. He was starting to fidget, in fact.
Mom moved closer to Jack, a half-smile on her lips. “Well, this is wonderful, Jack. We're so happy for you.”
Matthew choked out, “Well, of course we're happy you're okay, but...” His words trailed off and he bit his fingernails.
Daniel, in the meantime, observed everyone very closely. He glanced at my mother, and then stated, “Dad thinks you healed him, Matthew.”
I guffawed, “Right. Matthew has the power to heal.”
And, as if there was nothing better to say, my mother spouted out, “Jack, we're having a party for Corinne later. It's an early graduation plus eighteenth party. Maybe you'll join us.” Her eyebrows raised, and even after all these years, Jack could obviously read her facial expression.
“I'll be there with bells on!” he cried triumphantly, repeating Grandma Felicia’s favorite saying.
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Glad to have you back, Dad,” he murmured. “Bells and all.”
WHEN WE GOT HOME, MOM started setting up for the party and Dad followed her around, whispering to her. I marched right up to them and stuck my head in between them both. “What are you talking about?” I asked. I figured they were talking about how Jack was losing his mind. I knew my father would have something sarcastic to say about that.
“We're talking about how Jack's getting better,” Mom said softly. She pulled the plastic wrap off of a vegetable plate and carried it to the back door.
Trailing her closely, Dad went on, “And we're also discussing how thrilled I am that we'll be seeing him. Did you really have to invite him to this, Patricia?”
My father slid open the door and Mom shuffled through. “I think he's lonely. It'll be nice to talk to him, Julian. I think it'll make him happy.”
“He's plenty happy. Matthew just healed him.”
“Funny, Dad. Very funny,” I said, walking off.
CHAPTER SEVEN
I always love the few hours before a party that’s for me. There's an excitement and anticipation that one can practically feel in the air. Everything seems almost unreal, like a dream...
I had last seen Allen on Friday. Now it was Sunday, and it seemed like ages had passed since we'd spent time together. The uneasiness of our last encounter had dulled in my mind, and I found myself craving his presence yet again. I really hoped he would come to the party.
“Be careful!” Dad shouted at them.
A crow squawked from high in a tree, and I set down the chairs at the table. “You're being yelled at, Dad,” I chuckled, indicating the bird. “I have a feeling he...or she...has a nest nearby.”
Dad said something under his breath as he retrieved a leaf floating in the water. “I just cleaned the pool! Don't dirty it up!” he directed at the animal.
The crow emitted a raucous caw and flew away.
I laughed. “A feather or two won't hurt, Dad.”
“It's not the feathers I'm worried about,” he muttered, throwing the leaf aside. Clearing his throat, he pushed out, “So, I hear there's a 'guy'?”
“Well...” I blushed. I don't know why, but I was embarrassed to admit the Allen relationship to my father. “We're not dating or anything, and I'm not sure he'll even make it to the party. He's observing our classes in school.”
“Observing? He's not a student?”
“No, he's in college.”
Tilting his head to the side, Dad tapped at the vacuum pole with his wedding band – a definite sign of anxiety. “College? Where?”
Actually, I had no idea where. “Um...I'm not sure.” I still hadn't even figured out his last name, come to think of it.
Dad stopped vacuuming completely and leaned against the pole. “You invited him to your party but you don't know what school he goes to?” When I didn't answer, he continued, “Corinne, be careful with older men like that.”