The Return of Jonah Gray

by Heather Cochran

  “Can I help you?” I turned around to see Dr. Fisher’s assistant.

  “I’m here for some blood-test results.”

  The young man looked at me warily. “Gardner, right?” he asked.

  “Yes. For Jacob Gardner. The bone-marrow match.”

  “The doctor just presented them to your mother and uncle.”

  “He already did?” I looked at my watch. It was not quite two o’clock. “Where are they?”

  “Out, I guess.”

  “Am I a match, do you know?”

  “No. No matches. Not any of you.”

  “I guess it was a long shot.”

  “It was something,” he said.

  Leaving the office, I spotted Uncle Ed standing with my mother at the end of the hallway. He was in nearly the same place he’d been when I first saw Marcus, back before I knew that he was Marcus and my half brother. Back when the news of Dad’s recurrence was still new and deniable.

  Ed and my mother looked as though they were discussing something, but then Ed raised his hands and, even from a distance, I could tell that he was angry. He looked as if he could barely control himself. My mother shook her head, then shook it again, at which point Ed turned from her and came charging up the hallway.

  “Uncle Ed,” I said.

  “Later,” he snapped, barreling past me.

  I hurried to my mother who sat now on a bench outside the laboratory door. “Mom?” I said. I could see that she was in tears. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  “Oh, Sasha,” my mother said. She reached for my hand. I sat beside her and put an arm around her. She seemed so small, so much slighter than I remembered. “I made a mistake, and Ed is angry with me.”

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  She shrugged.

  “What is it? Does it have to do with Dad?”

  She sighed. “I suppose it does.”

  I waited a moment. “Will you tell me?”

  “I don’t know if you’ll remember any of this,” she began, “but back when you were in high school…oh, you must have been fifteen at the time. It was tax season and your father barely left his study, not even to come out and eat with us. Do you remember when he’d get like that? It was a bad year, and we were struggling a bit. Bills and things. I decided to spend some time in Tahoe.”

  “For spring skiing,” I remembered. “I wanted to go but you didn’t want to take me out of school for that long.”

  “That’s right. That was the time. I should have taken you.”

  “It’s fine. I don’t harbor any resentment.”

  “Oh, Sasha. Dear, dear Sasha.”

  “What Mom? You’re scaring me.”

  “I went to the condo for about a week, I think.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “I left Piedmont angry. I shouldn’t have, but I did. And during that week, I was not faithful to your father.”

  “What?”

  “Now before you judge me—”

  “I’m not judging. I’m just surprised.”

  “I was never unfaithful before or since,” she said. “I’ve been a good wife. And your father was no saint. That much is obvious.”

  “So you had a fling. With whom?”

  She took a deep breath. “You know Ian Maselin,” she said.

  I froze. Had she really said that name, of all names? Ian Maselin? Ian Maselin the slime? Ian Maselin the snake? Wasn’t she better than that?

  “Really?” I managed to say. “Mr. Maselin?”

  “I ran into him at the ski lodge. I didn’t realize he’d be in Tahoe.”

  “Ian Maselin?” I repeated. “But he’s so…so obvious.”

  “He paid attention to me. He listened to me. He looked at me.”

  “He looked at you? Is that all it took? The man’s looked at me a thousand times and I’ve never—” I didn’t finish. I didn’t want to say anything I’d have to envision. It was all wrong. Ian Maselin?

  “I’m not proud of it, but it happened and then it was over.”

  “So it was just that one time? This wasn’t something that went on for years and years or anything, was it?” I tried to think of all the times they’d socialized with each other. I checked my memories for signs of something larger.

  My mother shook her head. “Oh no. I came back and things with your father improved, and then I found out that I was pregnant…”

  I don’t know if she said anything more just then. That’s when it fell into place. That’s what Ed was livid about. Not that she’d had an affair. Not that she’d fallen for someone other than my father. It wasn’t about a moral lapse. It was about biology.

  “Blake’s not…” I couldn’t say it.

  “I never knew for sure. He’s never needed blood tests. He’s always been so healthy. Maybe I suspected it. Well, of course, I suspected it. But now with these tests…”

  “No wonder he and Marcus don’t look more alike. I’m always trying to find some resemblance, but I never do.”

  “I don’t think you’re ever going to.”

  “So, now what?”

  “I don’t know. Ed found out and he’s angry.”

  “You don’t have a plan? Are you going to tell Blake? Are you going to tell Dad?”

  “No,” she said. “What good would telling your father do? That’s one thing Ed and I agree on. As for Blake, maybe after your father…” She petered off. “Sasha, I feel terrible,” she said.

  “You should,” I said, thinking of Marcus. I heard my cell phone begin to ring, and I scrambled to pull it from my purse in time. “Hello?”

  “Sasha, it’s Jeff. Are you okay?”

  “Enough. Why?”

  “I swung by your office and you’re not there. No one knew where you were. Where are you?”

  “At the hospital.”

  “Oh my god, are you okay?”

  “I just said I was. It’s family stuff. It’s not a good time. Can I call you later?”

  “Call me later,” he said.

  Maybe I wasn’t as angry as Uncle Ed, but I was plenty mad. I had to get some space from my mother, but I didn’t want to go back to work. Instead, I found myself driving aimlessly around Oakland and then Piedmont. I passed Hunter’s. I passed the Escape Room. I passed Blake’s high school. He was in there, I thought, somewhere, oblivious. Finally, I pulled into a plant nursery not far from my parents’ house. I was angry and confused, yes. But I still needed a Christmas tree.

  I was browsing the evergreen section when I felt a timid tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Ellen Maselin.

  “Sasha, right? I didn’t expect to see you here. Of all people,” she said.

  “I need to get a tree,” I said. I looked at her, wondering whether she knew, whether she had any inkling, after all those years.

  “Are you doing the living tree, too?” she asked.

  “My mother wanted to start a new tradition.”

  “Someone’s become quite a faithful reader,” Ellen said. “It took me a while to convince Ian. You know how he likes to have the biggest tree on the street. You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?”

  “Tonight?”

  “Our holiday party. I wish your father could attend. Please tell him that we’re thinking of him.”

  “Your holiday party,” I repeated.

  “And feel free to bring that young man who’s been helping your father.”

  “Marcus? He’s my half brother.”

  “I didn’t realize you were related,” Ellen said.

  “There’s a lot of that going on,” I said.

  Ellen cocked her head like a small bird trying to ascertain whether the crouched cat in the bushes was a statue or not. My cell phone rang again, so I didn’t have to elaborate.

  “Hello?”

  It was Jeff. “I thought you were going to call me,” he said.

  I chose a little tree that the clerk informed me was a noble fir. It looked somewhat less than noble, standing two feet high at the most, but if my mot
her didn’t approve, she could buy one herself.

  It was almost dark when I finally pulled into the driveway of my parents’ house. I carried the tree inside and found my mother at the kitchen table having dinner with Blake and Marcus.

  “What’s that?” Blake asked.

  “It’s our Christmas tree.” I set it on the kitchen floor.

  “Sasha, it’s lovely,” my mother said. “It’s just perfect.”

  “That’s our Christmas tree?” Blake asked.

  “Ask her about it,” I said, motioning to our mother.

  “I was getting worried about you,” she said.

  I ignored her.

  “Mom said that none of us matched Dad,” Blake said. “Oh well.”

  “Oh well is right,” I said. I couldn’t meet my mother’s eyes.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Is there going to be food at this party?” Marcus asked.

  “I’m sure there will be,” my mother said.

  “You really want to go?” I asked him. “I was thinking that maybe I’d skip it.”

  “Oh, come on. Go with me. Just for a little bit,” Marcus asked. “I’ve been planning on it. No offense, Lola, but I could use a night out.”

  “By all means,” my mother said to him. “I’m happy to stay with Jacob tonight. You two should go. It’s always a lively event.”

  “Fine. Let me wash my hands and we can walk down there,” I told Marcus.

  “No one cares whether I want to go?” Blake asked.

  For a brief moment, I met my mother’s eyes. Then I looked away. “Do you want to go to the Maselins’ holiday party?” I asked Blake.

  “No way,” he said. “They’re weird.”

  Marcus and I walked down the dark street.

  “You seem a little off tonight,” he said.

  “Do I?”

  “I hope you didn’t get your hopes up about the bone-marrow match. It’s a real long shot.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Everything okay with Jeff?”

  “That’s not it either.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, backing off.

  “Seems like you and my mother are getting along better,” I said.

  He laughed. “I caught her, out on the patio, smoking one of my cigarettes. It’s been better since then.”

  “Strange bedfellows,” I said.

  “I’m not—there’s nothing like that—”

  “Oh, I know. I just meant, stressful times can throw people together.”

  “Kurt still takes exception to me.”

  “My older brother takes exception to any number of things. This is it,” I said.

  “Big house.”

  Inside, I recognized a few neighbors and introduced Marcus when I could, but it was true, I was a little off.

  Ellen Maselin met us as I was getting a beer from the bartender. “Sasha, you made it. Is Lola coming?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “She’s home with Dad.”

  “Of course. And you’re Marcus. I didn’t realize you were family. Here I was thinking you were the help. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m sure you’re a wonderful help to Jacob.”

  “I’m trying to be,” he said.

  “Have you seen Ian yet?” Ellen said, casting around for her husband.

  “I’m sure we’ll run into him,” I said, leading Marcus away. I figured Ian was probably in the kitchen, trying to grope the wait-staff.

  “She seems nice,” Marcus said.

  “She’s fine.”

  “What do you have against the Maselins?” he asked. “Is it the house? It’s a little gaudy.”

  I shook my head. “That’s Ian, over there.”

  “The one who looks like an older Blake?”

  I froze. Did Marcus know already? I looked back at Ian. Indeed, I could see a resemblance. I forced a laugh. “That’s the one.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the ever-radiant Sasha Gardner!” Ian had spotted us. “And who is this? You’re not the same young man I met before.”

  “This is Marcus.”

  “Sasha, I didn’t realize you were such a girl-about-town,” I an said to me, winking.

  “I’m not.”

  He ignored my dour answer. “I expect to see you around the piano, later. I’m sorry your tone-deaf father couldn’t join us tonight.”

  “Jacob’s tone-deaf?” Marcus asked. “I didn’t realize that.”

  “It’s a shame, but the man can’t carry a tune to save his life,” Ian said. “Ever since I’ve known him.”

  “I’m tone-deaf, too,” Marcus said.

  “Then you’re excused, as well,” Ian said. “Hey, did you see the tree Ellen got us this year? Isn’t it hilarious?” He pointed to a diminutive Christmas tree in a pot in the corner of the room. It stood about three feet tall.

  “It’s taller than ours,” Marcus said.

  “At least it’s taller than someone’s,” Ian said. “I’d better mingle. Nice to meet you, Mark.”

  We sat on a couch, eating canapés and watching people socialize. I powered through my second beer, than began another.

  “Thirsty tonight?” Marcus asked. “Good thing I’m the designated walker.”

  “I guess.”

  “Let me ask you something. Have you noticed that your mother’s first instinct is to keep Blake away from your father’s illness? The blood test is only the most recent thing.”

  “He’s her baby,” I said.

  “Sure, but he’s not a baby.”

  “Well, he got his way. He was tested. For all the good that did.”

  “What do you mean?” Marcus asked.

  Though my mother had made it clear that she didn’t want to tell either my father or Blake about the day’s revelation, I felt as though I had to tell someone. And I’d had three beers, which made it easier. So I told Marcus.

  “Him?” Marcus asked, pointing to Mr. Maselin, who by then was belting out tunes at the piano.

  “Him,” I said.

  “So that’s where he gets the musical ability.”

  “And maybe his way with the ladies. Please don’t tell anyone yet. I shouldn’t have said anything. It’ll all get worked out, but it can wait, can’t it?”

  He nodded.

  “You must be so pissed at her,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Marcus said, but he didn’t sound like his heart was in it.

  “The way she treated you. She’s been acting like she’s got this moral superiority. She’s got no superiority.”

  “Yeah,” he said again.

  “Is that all you’re going to say?”

  “What do you want me to say? What am I supposed to do about it now? Sure, I’m pissed off. You think I don’t get the hypocrisy? But now what? I’m not going to take it out on Blake.”

  “Of course not. He didn’t do anything to cause this.”

  “Yeah, well, neither did I,” Marcus said.

  We sat in silence for a moment.

  “We’re a mess of a family, aren’t we? You’re probably sorry you decided to spend time with us,” I said.

  “Not at all.”

  I smiled at him for answering so quickly. “What do you think I should do?” I asked.

  “Why are you asking me?”

  “Because I trust your opinion. And because you’re family.”

  Marcus smiled. He reached out and grabbed hold of my hand. “You’re one of the good ones, Sasha Gardner.”

  I almost started to cry. “Oh, God, do you really think so?”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?” MY BROTHER BARKED AS soon as I picked up my office phone.

  “Hello, Kurt,” I said.

  “Mom said you’re not talking to her.”

  “Did she say why she thought that was?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “She’s going through a difficult time right now. Wha
tever it is, you should cut her a little slack.”

  “Typical you. Did you guilt-trip Lori into cutting you some slack, too? Was the anniversary party just your way of blowing off a little steam? No big deal?” I asked.

  He paused for a moment before exploding. “That’s none of your damn business. That’s between me and my wife.”

  “How the hell did you get out of that anyway? The sick-father excuse?” I asked. “Or was it the new-job excuse? Or the ‘I’m miserable in Stockton’ excuse?”

  “You wouldn’t understand. You’ve never been married,” my brother snapped.

  “I’ve made promises I haven’t broken.”

  I hated everything about my mother’s actions—from the ease with which she had fallen for Ian Maselin’s greasy charms to the hypocrisy of her previous treatment of Marcus. But was it the infidelity itself or its imagined effect on Blake that bothered me the most? My mother had had a point: my father was no saint. Then again, neither was she. Nor was Kurt. Was it just a matter of time before it was my turn?

  I took refuge that evening in a trip to the mall with Martina. She was trying to find the perfect Christmas gift for Marcus.

  “Everyone in my family has been unfaithful,” I said to her. “My mother, my father, my brother.”

  “Blake hasn’t,” she pointed out. We were wandering the mall in search of a Christmas gift she could buy for Marcus.

  “He’s gone through four girlfriends this year already. It’s not infidelity, but he’s sure starting off on an acquisitive track. Not unlike his genetic father.”

  “You haven’t,” Martina said.

  “Maybe it’s just a matter of time. Maybe it’s my gypsy blood. What if I get the undeniable urge to wander?”

  “I don’t see it,” she said. “You know what makes you happy. I figure the next time you start dating someone, it’s going to stick.”

  “I’m dating Jeff,” I reminded her. “He’s someone.”

  “Shit, you’re right,” she said. “Why can’t I ever remember that?”

  “You think I’m free from the Gardner curse?”