Picture Perfect

by D. Anne Love

  “Orders are orders, that’s all I’m saying.” Mike parked the wheelchair in the corner and left, his sneakers squeaking on the tile floor.

  “Well, Dad, this is one time you’re going to have to let someone else be in charge,” Shyla said. “Now, what’s this nonsense about your not wanting Mama to know what happened? If she were sick or hurt, wouldn’t you want to know?”

  “Of course. But this is different.”

  “No, it isn’t. You know I’m right.”

  “Yeah,” Zane said. “What are we supposed to tell Mama when she calls?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to tell her something,” Daddy admitted. “But I do not want her coming home on my account. February is not that far off, and I want her to come home when she’s ready, not out of a sense of obligation.”

  But wasn’t that what families were all about, bound by love and duty to take care of one another? Or were you supposed to be selfless enough just to step out of the picture so nothing came between a person and their dreams?

  The door opened, and Beverly came in with a huge basket of yellow and white flowers.

  “Good mornin’, Sum-nuh!” she caroled. “I brought you something to liven up this joint.”

  “Thanks,” Daddy said. “They’re beautiful, but I’ll be out of here tomorrow. They’re releasing me on my own recognizance.”

  “That’s wonderful news!” She dropped her sunglasses into her bag, set the basket on the windowsill, and beamed at all of us. “Good morning, Trasks!”

  “Hi,” we said.

  Beverly set her purse down like she intended to stay awhile. “Now, Sum-nuh,” she began. “I saw your doctor in the hallway just now, and he tells me you’re to be on bed rest for the next several days.”

  “Yes,” Daddy said. “I’m hiring a private-duty nurse to give me a hand while Phoebe and Zane are at school.”

  “Well, that’s just ridiculous. Why waste good money when I’m sitting right next door with hardly anything to do?”

  “What about your book?” I asked. “You said you came to Eden to get your work done.”

  “And I did!” Beverly crowed. “I finished it last week and shipped the whole shebang off to my editor. The ball is in his court now, and in the meantime I am completely at loose ends.” She patted Daddy’s covers. “I’ll be happy to look after you till you’re on your feet again.”

  “Phoebe and I can manage,” Zane said. “We’ll be okay.”

  Daddy said, “What about your swim meet, Zane? Don’t you have an important one next week?”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No buts,” Dad said firmly. “I won’t have you missing it on my account. And Phoebe should concentrate on her homework, not on fetching and carrying for me.”

  “But I don’t mind, Daddy!”

  “I know. But I’ve got this all worked out so I won’t inconvenience anyone, and that’s the end of it.”

  Just then the door opened, and the nurse came in wheeling a metal cart. “Okay, everybody out while I get this man’s dressings changed. You can come back in half an hour.”

  Shyla bent over Daddy’s bed. “I hate to leave, but I’ve got an exam tomorrow and a major paper due next week. Professor Gray will probably give me an extension on the paper, but if I miss Hartwell’s exam …”

  “Go,” Daddy said. “I’m glad you came all this way to check on your old man, but I’m fine.”

  “I’ll come back next weekend,” Shyla said tearfully. “I love you, Daddy.”

  “Love you too. Drive carefully. Stop and rest when you get tired.” He motioned to me and Zane. “I want the two of you to go on to school too. There’s nothing you can do here, and I’ll be sleeping most of the day anyhow. Those pain pills knock me for a loop.”

  “He’s right,” the nurse said. “Another hour and he’ll be sleeping like a baby.”

  We said our good-byes and went home. I wished that Shyla could have stuck around, especially since she had driven practically half the night to get home, but she ran inside, grabbed her stuff, and headed for Austin. Zane and I went to school.

  We pulled into the parking lot about twenty minutes before the end of second period. Too wrung out for conversation, we sat in the car waiting for the bell to ring, watching a couple of squirrels playing chase in the oak trees. When the bell sounded, Zane sighed and said, “Here we go.”

  Inside the building people parted for us like we were royalty. Everybody had heard about the attack on Judge Trask, and the questions flew fast and furious. Did we know who did it? Had we talked to the police? Was it true that our dad was in a coma? Someone had heard he’d been shot. Somebody else had heard he’d died. By lunchtime I was so sick of the questions I wanted to wear a sign around my neck warning people away.

  Thankfully, Ashley and Courtney didn’t ask a bunch of questions. Ash just asked if I was okay, and when I said I was, Courtney changed the subject to something with more immediate relevance: Namely, had I finished the homework assignment for Mr. Clifton’s class, and could she borrow it?

  I opened my notebook and slid it across the table. “Don’t get grease all over it.”

  “I won’t.” Courtney wiped her fingers on her napkin, took out her pen, and scribbled on her paper. “Thanks. I owe you one.”

  Just as I was putting my paper away, I looked up and saw Nick coming into the cafeteria. I smiled and waved to him, but he looked right past me. That hurt. And I was embarrassed that Ash and Courtney saw how he had snubbed me.

  “What’s with him?” Courtney asked.

  “Who knows?” I picked up my tray. “I gotta go.”

  “Hey,” Ashley said. “Courtney’s mom is driving us to the mall on Saturday. You want to come?”

  It was the first time I’d been invited, and I really wanted to go. “Maybe. It depends on how my dad is doing.”

  “I forgot. Stupid me.” Ashley picked up her tray. “I hope he’s okay, Phoebe.”

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know about Saturday.”

  I put my tray away and went to the rest room, wondering what I’d done to make Nick mad at me. He’d said he understood why I didn’t go trick-or-treating with him and Jacob, but obviously something had happened. I couldn’t wait to get to science class so that I could talk to him and get to the bottom of his weird behavior.

  Mr. Clifton’s class seemed longer and more boring than ever. I answered a question about the Roman Empire and handed in my homework without really thinking about it. When the bell rang, I hurried to science class, where Mrs. Grady spent half the period lecturing before finally releasing us for our lab work. I got our equipment and read through the lab manual, waiting for Nick to leave his chair at the back of the room and take his seat on the stool next to mine. Finally he did.

  “Hi,” I said.

  He just stared at me.

  “What’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me?”

  “Did you send the police to my house?”

  “The police? No!” I said so loudly that Mrs. Grady looked up and frowned at us. “No,” I said more softly. “Why would I?”

  He shoved his hair out of his eyes. “Somebody thinks Pop is the one who beat up your dad.”

  “I heard they were questioning some men who were at a bar downtown, and I admit, the thought crossed my mind, but Nick, I didn’t say anything. I swear.”

  “Just so you know,” he said coldly, “Pop couldn’t have been the one who did it, because he was too busy beating up on my mom at the time.”

  “I’m sorry. Is she hurt?”

  “No broken bones. This time.”

  Mrs. Grady came by and rested her hand my shoulder. “How’s the experiment coming, Phoebe?”

  “We’re just getting started.”

  “So I see.” She snapped her fingers. “Time is running out. You’d better get a move on.”

  Nick opened his lab manual, and we hurried through the experiment. When the bell rang, instead of heading for his math class, he followed me to the gym. He grabbed my hand and
pulled me to the side of the building, which was shaded by tall hedges. The marching band was practicing for Friday’s game; music drifted across the field.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  And before I could tell him it was okay, that I understood, he kissed me. It wasn’t short and sweet like the first one. It was long and mixed with sadness. I pulled away, feeling shaken and exhilarated all at the same time.

  “I have to go.” My voice cracked. “I’ll be late.”

  “Me too.”

  I don’t remember anything else about that day. I must have gone to the hospital after school to see Daddy. I suppose that Zane and I stopped at Gus’s for a burger when we got hungry. But my mind was so taken with Nick and his problem, Nick and the way he had kissed me, that everything else was a blur.

  On Friday, when Zane and I got home from school, Daddy was already home, propped up in the living room on a rented hospital bed so he wouldn’t have to climb the stairs to his room. The nurse he’d hired bustled around him straightening pillows, filling his water glass, and generally trying to convince him she was worth the money he was paying her.

  When Daddy introduced us, she said, “I made a roast beef sandwich for his supper. It’s in the fridge. I don’t cook for the whole family, and I don’t do laundry.”

  “We’ll be fine, Mrs. Vance,” Daddy said. “Thank you for coming.”

  “Well.” She surveyed the room and straightened a stack of magazines on the coffee table. “All right, then. Don’t forget your medications, Judge. They’re right there on the table by your water glass.”

  “I’ll remember.”

  “And use that walker when you have to go to the bathroom. One fall and those ribs of yours will shatter like glass. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

  “No, ma’am.” Behind her back Daddy winked at me.

  Mrs. Vance pointed her finger at Zane and me. “Don’t you kids make a lot of noise. Your father has been through an ordeal. He needs peace and quiet.”

  She picked up her yellow flowered tote bag and let herself out.

  “Man, she’s something else,” Zane said. “Where did you find her, Dad?”

  “The hospital recommended her,” Daddy said. “Hey, Feebs, would you mind bringing that stack of papers from my desk?”

  “You’re supposed to rest.”

  “I am resting! It won’t hurt me to read for a while.”

  Zane rummaged around in the kitchen and came out with a bag of chips and a can of soda. “Dad? I’m heading out to practice and then to Ginger’s, okay?”

  “Home by eleven,” Daddy said.

  I brought Daddy his papers. While he read, I spread out my homework at the dining-room table. Later we ate our sandwiches in the living room.

  “How are things at school?” Daddy asked.

  “A couple of girls invited me to go to the mall with them tomorrow. Is it okay?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  After calling Courtney, I switched on the lights and tried to watch TV, but there was nothing on but football and mindless sitcoms with sound tracks to tell you when to laugh. I was too preoccupied with everything else going on in my life to concentrate on anything anyway.

  Daddy’s papers rustled. “Phoebe?”

  “Yeah, Daddy, do you need something?”

  “What’s the matter, sunshine? I’ve been talking to you for the last ten minutes.”

  “Sorry. I had a long day at school.”

  “Trouble with math again?”

  “No more than usual.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  I wrapped Mama’s old afghan around my shoulders. “Suppose somebody you cared about was in a bad situation and they made you promise not to tell.”

  “If you promised, then I’d say you have to keep your word. Unless you could convince this person to release you from your obligation. Of course, if he or she were involved in something illegal, then you’d have to tell, to avoid becoming a part of the crime.”

  Daddy peered at me over the top of his reading glasses. “Is someone you know in trouble?”

  Just then Mama called, and she and Daddy talked for a long time. I thumbed through a magazine, listening to Daddy’s side of the conversation. Now that we knew for sure when my mother was coming home, it seemed that something had loosened inside them both, and they were talking more easily, like in the old days. I thought about telling Daddy as much of Nick’s situation as I could without actually giving anything away, but by the time they hung up, Daddy was worn out and I had lost my nerve.

  The next morning, Saturday, Mrs. Vance didn’t show up, so Zane and I made oatmeal and bacon for breakfast. While Zane helped Daddy to the bathroom, I made the bed, filled the water pitcher, and neatened up Daddy’s stack of mail and papers.

  Zane left for his swim meet. I was waiting for Ash and Courtney to pick me up for our trip to the mall when Beverly arrived with coffee and croissants. As if without her we’d starve to death.

  “We’ve already eaten,” I said.

  “But those smell so good I might have to try one anyway,” Daddy said from his bed. “Come on in, Bev, and have a seat.”

  “You’re looking ever so much better,” Beverly said, settling onto the sofa. “And I see you’re starting to think about work already.”

  “Three days down, seven to go,” he said like a kid counting down to Christmas. “I can’t wait to get back to the courthouse.”

  Beverly put a croissant on a napkin and passed it to Daddy. “Do the police have any leads on who did this?”

  “The chief called yesterday. He’s questioning some people, looking into their alibis. Nothing solid yet.”

  The phone rang and Daddy picked it up. He listened for a minute and said, “Well, I’m sorry too. This puts me in a tough situation. It’ll be difficult to find someone else on a weekend.”

  He listened some more. “In that case, perhaps it would be for the best.”

  He hung up. “Mrs. Vance quit. She’s had second thoughts about taking care of me. She doesn’t feel safe looking after someone so controversial.”

  “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,” Beverly said. “Who on earth would want to harm her?”

  For once I agreed with Beverly. “That’s okay, Dad,” I said. “We don’t need her. We can manage until Monday.”

  I picked up the phone. “I’ll call Courtney and tell her I can’t go to the mall today.”

  Beverly said, “Phoebe Trask, you’ll do no such thing! I’ll be happy to stay right here and look after your daddy.”

  Yes, I thought. I just bet you would.

  “I don’t mind. I can go to the mall anytime.”

  But just then Courtney’s mom pulled into the driveway and honked the horn. Beverly said, “You go on, now. Have a good time, and don’t worry about your daddy. I’ll spoil him rotten.”

  That was only the beginning. For the next week Beverly practically lived at our house. She cooked elaborate meals, including dessert, every night. She took Daddy to the hospital for his follow-up appointment and refilled his prescriptions at the drugstore. She sat in on his talk with the police chief, organized our mail, and answered the phone. At night she watched TV with us or listened to opera records with Daddy until bedtime. In other words, she acted like a wife, like a mother, like someone who belonged in our family.

  All that togetherness about drove Zane and me crazy, but Daddy soaked up the attention the way pancakes soak up syrup. And I have to admit, having Beverly there made life run smoother. Instead of rushing home right after school, Zane and I could act like normal teenagers, hanging out at Gus’s, going to the movies and the football game.

  Still, I couldn’t wait for February, when Mama would come home.

  Mama likes to say that every cloud has a silver lining, and maybe it’s true. One year I missed Lauren’s birthday party because Daddy’s aunt Reba was visiting, and as a result I was the only one of Lauren’s friends who avoided chicken pox. More recently,
Zane’s run-in with the law had sure improved his relationship with Daddy, which made things around the house a lot less tense.

  The week before Thanksgiving break the huge black cloud that had hovered over Nick’s family finally gave up its silver lining, and it happened because of the attack on my father. Daddy had been back at work for a few days, as good as new except for some sore ribs and a pale, moon-shaped scar just above his eyebrow. He was so focused on the next case coming up for trial that he didn’t spend too much time worrying about his attackers. But the police chief and the county sheriff were like men possessed. It was a point of pride for them to solve the case. They had taken statements from half the population of Eden, and every day one of them went on the local news to reassure the town that they were close to making an arrest.

  Eventually the investigation focused on the three men who had been seen outside the bar, bragging about how Daddy had gotten what he deserved, and as I had feared, one of those three was Nick’s dad, Frank Harper. According to Nick, the police were just about to arrest Mr. Harper and charge him with assault and battery, public drunkenness, and who knows what all, when Mrs. Harper showed up at the police station and confirmed for the cops what Nick had told me earlier—that her husband could not have been the one who beat up the judge. He was at home that night beating the tar out of her. She still had plenty of bruises to prove it.

  “Man, I have never seen Pop as mad as he was when Mom told the cops what had been going on at the house,” Nick said.

  We were sitting outside in the quad, killing time before the last pep rally of football season. The sun was out, but a sharp wind bit into my shoulders as we huddled on one of the benches. I blew on my hands to warm them and turned my face to the sun.

  “So, what happens now?” I asked.

  “Mom made Pop move out until he completes a program at AA and takes anger management classes.”

  “That’s good, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe. He’s promised to change a bunch of times and never followed through.”

  “But your mom never made him leave the house before, right? That should get his attention.”