Magnolia's Violet

by Rachael K Hannah

  “You want to make a difference?” Dane asked.

  “I guess that saying gets thrown around so much, but yes. Yes, I want to make a difference and have an impact on someone else. For me, a job should be more than a way to pay the bills. It’s all gotta mean something.”

  Mean something… like helping Parker, and kids like him, I quietly thought to myself.

  *

  The loneliness continued for about another full week, that was until my father returned with Parker at his side. After an impromptu trip to Aspen, Father decided that his time would be best spent settling the nitty gritty details of his latest dispute with Candace. It wasn’t long before I missed that empty house, for the exception of Parker. No matter how “Parker-esque” he could get, there was something very special about having him by my side. He was still my brother. We had still survived this house together. For better or worse, we had each other.

  I had long ago learned how to move about the halls unnoticed. I wasn’t exactly sure whether to attribute that to my own stealth, or my parents being equally too self-absorbed to notice anything outside of themselves. Only then, instead of quietly keeping tabs on Candace’s drinking or phone conversations with various male suitors, I was focused on Father and David, his lawyer, and the many dialogues that usually ended with my father smashing a vase or throwing a chair across the room.

  One Sunday night, he managed to hurl my grandmother’s favored porcelain lamp across the library, slamming it into the bookshelf that housed grandmother’s collection of first editions. Every time, I shuddered, hugging myself tightly, wondering how by some miracle my father had never knocked any of us unconsciousness.

  The scariest part was that not once did David bat an eye at any of these violent outbursts. On some level, I realized David had probably witnessed his fair share of horrors amongst his many high-powered clientele who were used to winning at any cost.

  “I owe her NOTHING!” my father howled one night, his eyes seething with unfettered rage as he paced up and down the library, stomping his feet like a spoiled child. “That witch should be on her knees, thanking me for carrying the bill for Sherwood Pines, instead of locking her up in a state facility—like she deserves!”

  All I felt was numbness, for myself. Sorrow for Parker. And guilt, for perhaps failing to empathize with my mom. Every time, I held my cell phone in my hand, ready to dial 9-1-1 if needed. One night, a couple of years earlier, Candace called the police on him, using her cell phone. By the time the patrol cars came, our father had straightened himself up, presented as perfectly calm and reasonable, and convinced the police that it must have been some sort of prank.

  Regardless of whatever furious rant my father went on, David calmly reminded him of the many legal agreements that had already been settled—the main one being my father’s obligation to let Candace keep the Cos Cob house. As always, my father pulled himself together, wiped his brow with a handkerchief, and made some comment about how his estate in New Canaan was worth more, anyway.

  Meanwhile, none of this eased Parker’s anxiety, at all. He’d run straight to his room and hide under the bed, almost every time, waiting for me to come get him once the coast was clear.

  One night when I’d had enough, I remained hidden in my bedroom, researching various out of state teacher preparation programs on my laptop. After everything that had transpired within that house, one thing was sure: I needed to get out, permanently. There had to be more to all of this.

  Several of my former classmates had gotten into teaching, even guidance counseling and school psychology. Women, like me, who were educated, successful, and loved working with children. I didn’t want to give my career goals up, but maybe I’d eventually have to move. Perhaps if I gained my independence, I could be of more help to Parker. Maybe, I could even teach kids like Parker someday.

  There was a tapping at my door.

  “It’s me, Katie. Open up. Please.”

  Parker.

  “Coming!”

  I climbed out of bed and ran over to unlock the door. It was a rare moment when Parker sought me out. Without hesitation, he burst into the room and threw himself on my bed, rolling around in the covers he always called fluffy. I watched him, bemused, for a few moments, until he was ready to settle down.

  “I don’t want to stay in New Canaan,” he finally stated. “I hate it there.”

  Gingerly, I lowered myself down into my armchair. “I thought you liked it. It’s a beautiful town,” I offered.

  Parker shook his head. “It is beautiful. But that doesn’t count. I miss being here. I miss Blanca. I don’t understand why she had to leave.”

  She didn’t have to leave. Our father had just decided he didn’t want to pay two housekeepers anymore, especially the one responsible for maintaining the home his ex stole from him. It didn’t seem fair to get into all of that with Parker, though, so I kept my mouth shut on that one.

  “I’m sure Blanca misses you, too,” I said.

  “Dad’s being crazy downstairs again. He’s yelling, and I think he’s going to start breaking stuff. He scares me, Katie.”

  My chest tightened.

  “Did he hurt you? Has he hurt you?” I demanded. There were plenty of times where I longed to hire an attorney myself. Sage had been right about a lot. For people who had been given more than enough when it came to the material realm, it hadn’t done any of us a bit of good regarding living better lives. “Parker,” I whispered. “I need to call the police, don’t I? Not doing anything is just enabling him.” Although I wasn’t sure if Parker quite understood the concept of enabling another person’s dysfunctional behavior, I felt safe talking with him.

  “No,” Parker grumbled. “Dad never hurts me. It’s always breaking stuff. Or saying mean things to Mom. The neighbors called the police last week, but when they came he was calm and convinced them nothing was wrong.”

  I nodded solemnly. So Parker had had a similar experience. It didn’t surprise me that our dad had successfully fooled the police, in two separate jurisdictions. He was very adept at getting his way.

  “I want Blanca back,” Parker continued. “She’s nice and always knows what to say. She even taught me the Serenity Prayer. Blanca said that whenever I’m upset, I can do this,” he made the sign of the cross and recited the prayer in full. Truthfully, I was impressed. “I just need to say that, and then I’m protected.”

  “She did teach us that, didn’t she?” I smiled. “You know, Parker, even though the police left the house those two nights, we can call again. They have to keep a log of that information.”

  “I don’t even care about him anymore. I care that I don’t know what’s going to happen. Now I’m in a new school. Now, I don’t even know where Mom is. Or when she’s coming back. You should take me to see her. You should.”

  Unable to meet his eyes, I glanced back down at my laptop. No matter what, it seemed, Parker remained loyal to our mom. Remaining silent, I scrolled down the homepage of a Wisconsin school that offered what appeared to be the greatest variety of teacher preparation programs in the mid-west, including dual certification in general and special education. It made me wonder how our Aunt Grace was doing. The last time we saw her, Parker had just lost his first front tooth.

  Unwilling to let me off the hook, Parker pressed further. “Can’t you take me to see Mom? Once? Dad won’t take me. He keeps saying she doesn’t deserve to be there… but I don’t think he means that in a nice way. I think he means… that she should be somewhere worse. Whenever he talks about it, Dad makes a face like this.” Parker scrunched up his face into a scary looking, exaggerated scowl. “Pat says that when people make that face, it means they’re really, really angry.”

  I was sure that Parker was right about that. Before closing my laptop lid, I made sure to bookmark the school’s website. Perhaps I could review it another day. “Visiting hours are over now; it’s too late to go right this minute.”

  “Please, Katie. I know you don’t get along. Bu
t I miss her. Can we see her soon?”

  “Tomorrow, okay, Parker? We’ll go first thing tomorrow.”

  It was a promise I intended to keep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kat

  The next morning, I made good on my word to Parker and the two of us slipped out of the house unnoticed by our father—who, from the looks of things, had one too many himself and lay passed out on the family room recliner. I often wondered how he could be so critical of Candace when he wasn’t about to earn an award for exemplary parent of the year any time soon.

  The drive to Sherwood Pines was a short one. Admittedly one I had yet to take myself since I had no real desire to see Candace. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel for her. How could I not, when clearly she had reached an ultimate low of sorts? It was just that I wanted to hold on to that empathy because something inside of me feared that a visit would simply reveal that she hadn’t changed, hadn’t learned a single thing. And if she hadn’t changed, then what were our options?

  Isolated within Darien, which I always found to be one of the more charming towns within Fairfield County, I had only really come to know about Sherwood Pines Hospital through Sage.

  Several years ago, when we were still kids, Sage had done the unthinkable and landed herself in a bed in its adolescent treatment house—a breathtaking colonial-style mansion that looked more like a former United States president’s home than a mental health and substance abuse treatment center.

  “It doesn’t look like a bad place,” Parker said as we entered the main building, eyeing everyone and everything with caution. “Dad says she deserves to be in a state facility. State facility. State facility.”

  Whenever Parker was especially nervous, he’d repeat the same set of words over and over in a different tone. His psychologist shared that repetition had a calming effect on him. It just occasionally brought about attention from onlookers who didn’t understand.

  “You’re right,” I said. “This is not a bad place. They’re helping Can—Mom here.”

  The least I could do was call her Mom during an ordeal like this.

  As we got closer to entering the recreational room, I felt a tightness deepen within my chest. I wondered about what kind of condition we might find her in. Would she even want us there? Well, Parker, yes. That was an absolute certainty. But would she want to see me?

  When we entered, I let out a small sigh of relief. There, off to the side by the windows, our mother sat comfortably on a sofa, leafing through a celebrity-centered tabloid with a bored expression on her face. Perhaps she was vicariously living through the dramatic exploits of the stars, considering she was pretty much stuck for a full month.

  At least she looked well rested.

  “Mom!” Parked exclaimed, running over to her with his arms wide open. He hated hugs, yet there he was lavishing her with one of the biggest bear hugs I’d ever seen him give.

  Her eyes shot right up from the magazine page as she returned the hug herself.

  “Parker, honey,” she whispered. “I have missed you so.” She closed her eyes and sighed deeply with happiness. When she opened them, she looked directly at me and scowled. “Oh. You’re here too. Fantastic.”

  I’m doing this for Parker, I reminded myself. “Hello, C—Mother.”

  “Mother?” Candace’s eyes brightened, and for a moment revealed a slight sense of vulnerability. “I think the last time you called me that… well, you were in high school, I believe. Thank you for bringing Parker… and coming yourself. I appreciate the visit.”

  “You’re welcome,” I replied curtly.

  I sat down on the ottoman adjacent to the sofa, where she had moved over to share the space with Parker. Looking around, I could understand why so many it-people (as Dane would call them) chose this place to… rehabilitate. In many ways, it felt as if Parker and I had just stepped foot inside a home décor hashtag.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Candace said. “Yes, this place is everything you think it is. My single bedroom is all mine—no annoying roommates. They have me on a strict paleo diet. I go to Yoga, every frickin’ morning… God, I could use a cigarette right now.”

  “You’re not supposed to smoke, Mom,” Parker chided. “Smoking is bad. It can give you cancer.”

  “Parker, honey, everything gives you cancer. Life gives you cancer. Go to the nurse’s station and get Mom a sparkling water. And a chocolate bar. I need to talk with your sister about adult stuff.”

  Like the dutiful son he was, Parker walked over to the nurse’s station without protest, leaving me alone with the dragon lady.

  “That’s a nice one. Life gives you cancer? Why did you say that to him, Candace? You know Parker has difficulty deciphering sarcasm. Now he’s going to believe that anyone who’s alive will end up with cancer. And a candy bar? What happened to strict paleo?”

  “Candace. There it is. There’s the daughter I know. Don’t be foolish, Katie.”

  “It’s Kat.”

  “Kat is so pedestrian. You’re an adult. If anything, you should insist that people call you Katherine. And for your information, the paleo diet was not my choice. If I can’t have my cigarettes, the least they can do is throw in a candy bar every now and then.”

  “I’ll go by whatever I please.”

  I could be just as stubborn, if not more so.

  “Look, we don’t have all day to get into the specifics before your brother comes back from his errand with a barrage of questions about this place. Listen to me, and listen to me clearly. Your father is going to take Parker away from me, permanently. He’ll give me the house… because he’s cut Blanca and thinks I’ll get so overwhelmed by taking care of it that I’ll be begging him to place it on the market by Christmas. But he’s going to take Parker away from me, mark my words.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have him, either.”

  “Smart girl. I shouldn’t. That’s why you need to have him emancipated.”

  I didn’t have the words to respond. Emancipated? Parker. Clearly, my mother was in the right place because she had downright lost her mind.

  “Parker has autism,” I spoke haltingly, as if explaining my brother’s situation to a young child who didn’t know any better. “He can’t be emancipated. Not now.”

  “Well then, you can take him.”

  “Me?!?!”

  “Yes, you. Well, no. Not you—admittedly, that’s an awful idea. However, my sister, Grace. Now listen to me closely before he’s back. Every woman who’s worth a damn knows to hide money. A woman has to have a packed bag ready and the funds to back it up, at a moment’s notice. Well, I have that,” she whispered proudly. “Your father thinks I’ve squandered every penny of my allowance on purses and other designer trinkets. Well, I have a hidden account that no one knows about.”

  “Miranda doesn’t even kno—”

  “Quiet and listen, for once. Of course, Miranda knows—she’s my attorney. Anyway, I need you to go into that account, contact Miranda, and get the ball rolling. I can’t beat your father alone. Not from in here. I’m lucky he didn’t file for full custody yet… I’m waiting for it. Any day now. You get that money and have Miranda draw up the papers, ASAP. Parker doesn’t need that maniac ruining his life. Also, let’s face it. I’m no mother of the year. Grace is a good woman. She’s the only one who can get my boy out of this mess I put him in.”

  Candace spoke so fast, I began to wonder if she was in the midst of having some sort of manic episode; it felt almost impossible to keep up with her. Part of me couldn’t quite comprehend what I was hearing. The other part, well, the other part on some level knew she wasn’t as stark raving mad as some might make her out to be.

  “Candace, I’m in no position to fight this battle. How do I even get Grace involved? Will she go for it? Have you two even spoken—”

  “No, Grace and I haven’t spoken. However, I know my sister. She is a good person—soft, like you always were—and she’ll do right by me, if you ask her. You do this, you ge
t in touch with her on my behalf, and I’ll sign over a partial advance in your inheritance. There’s a lot a girl can do with 50k in her back pocket—they’ll be more to follow in the future.”

  I felt my face grow red. 50k? That was huge—at least for a twenty-two-year old grad student.

  “Can you even do that without Dad co-signing?” I asked.

  “Of course I can. It’s money I saved myself, not his. As I said, there will be more, eventually—that’s all his. But this is money I earned and saved a lifetime. I can do whatever I damn well please. Will you do this for me? Will you contact Grace? Will you have Miranda draft the papers? Will you do this for Parker? Your father’s going to take him, to spite me, and he won’t be able to keep up with Parker. He’ll send my son to a Massachusetts boarding school before the year is through. That isn’t right. My son needs to be with family. Do this one little thing for me, and I promise you will be provided for.”

  “I… I guess—”

  “Shhhh!” she hissed. “Parker’s coming back.”

  Then she took my hand into her own, and gently squeezed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sage

  “How much red ink can you seriously fit onto one sheet of paper?”

  I propped myself up in bed with my elbows and rested my chin in my hands. Jake sat on the floor, right at the foot of the bed, with a stack of papers scattered around him. Each one bled profusely from one long-winded comment after another.

  For someone who seemed fixated on correcting his students’ grammar, it appeared no one had ever explained to Jake why it’s generally a good idea to avoid run-on sentences!

  “It’s my job, Sloane.” Jake scribbled a few more comments in his chicken scratch, then smiled up at me. “If I don’t make the necessary corrections, my students aren’t going to learn. Besides, when did you become a staunch defender of the young women of Tinsley Prep? I thought they were all awful people.”