Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (26 page)

“Margaret knew she was dying,” she said. “That could be like hanging over a cliff.”

“We all know we’re going to die.”

“Not really, or we wouldn’t act so surprised. Why don’t you check in with Jon? Ask him how he feels about your life together now.”

“He’ll just think I’m being needy and manipulative like his ex-wife.”

“You do need him.”

“He’s got enough to worry about.”

“Many people in your circumstances would assume their partner is going to carry the load for a while.”

“He keeps saying that. That he’ll take care of me.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“Part of me believes him.”

“What part doesn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

She was quiet. Leaving me “room to grow.” Which sounded condescending. I didn’t say anything.

“Well, we need to end now,” she said. “I’ll email you my open hours.”

“Jon is still talking about getting me a ring.”

“We can talk about that next time May I say something before we end?”

“Can I stop you?”

“You can always hang up,” she said. “It’s nice to have someone we can count on.”

“Is it? If he leaves, then what?”

“You’ll be fine. Just like your mother was fine.”

“My father didn’t leave, he died.”

“Part of him had already left into an affair.”

“They might have solved it.”

“Maybe. Some things can’t be solved. Your first marriage couldn’t be solved. Leaving was in your best interest, but you didn’t.”

She was quiet again. It drove me crazy. My brain scrambled to connect the stepping-stones I knew she was throwing at my feet. I hated being reminded about my first marriage. I spent all my time worrying that the asshole was going to leave me and go back to his girlfriend. She had no problem hanging around in the background. Was my life going to be populated by hangers-on? They needed to go live their own life so I could get on with the business of screwing up mine without distractions. All the nice men I’d thoughtlessly left, but I didn’t leave him. I decided to kill any girl who treated Chance the way I treated old boyfriends.

“I was young,” I said. “I was afraid. I wasn’t over losing my father. That doesn’t have anything to do with Jon. Are you suggesting I leave Jon?”

“No. Hear me, Hannah. This is where people hear what they want to hear. I am not suggesting that you leave Jon. I am suggesting that the part that doesn’t believe Jon, might be the part that kept you from leaving your husband.”

“Like what?”

“Like being afraid,” she said.

“Jon and my ex-husband don’t have anything to do with each other,” I said. “I got over losing my father years ago.”

I sounded obstinate and I knew it. I couldn’t stop myself.

“Okay, Hannah. I’ll send you times.”

I wandered into the kitchen. Meli was reading
Cosmo,
which had about as much to do with her life as
People
did with mine
.
Note to self,
don’t be such a bitch
. She was giving Chance a bottle. We switched places and she got busy making me a smoothie with Jon’s recipe. Chance opened his eyes and smiled, then settled back down with the business of survival. He watched my face for a while before his eyes drifted closed again.

“The house looks great,” I said. “How was Jon while I was gone?”

“Lonely kane. Always running. Up and down the beach.”

“He ran on the beach?”

“Yups. Jon runs a lot,” she said.

Jon didn’t run.

She put the smoothie in front of me with a flourish, and left us on our own for a while. I was exhausted so took nap number five thousand.

I woke up to Jon asleep in the rocking chair with his bare feet propped on the edge of the bed, a magazine working its way off his lap while his glasses worked their way down his nose. We needed to go somewhere and sleep for a month when this was all over. Better yet, we needed to go somewhere and not sleep half the time.

Chance woke up next with a resounding toot. I groaned and Jon laughed before he even opened his eyes.

“Where’s Meggie?” I asked.

“At Chop’s. She’s eating over there.”

He filled me in on his day. Jugs Eli was training to be a bartender.

“Maybe he’ll just serve the big jugs,” I said.

“He’s fine. He appreciates them all.”

“Did you run while I was in the hospital?”

“Yeah. I needed exercise.”

“You hate running.”

“It’s efficient.”

He got up so fast it made me jump, and Chance start. He pressed me into the pillow with a kiss. Chance was wide-eyed with wonder at his father’s energy. He walked into the kitchen, scrolled up Richie and whistled while he rattled around fixing dinner. Okay, that was different. I covered Chance’s ears.

“What would you miss about me if I’d died?” I yelled.

“Everything,” he yelled back.

“You always say that,” I yelled.

“I always mean it,” he yelled back.

Then again with the whistling.            

“That’s not very specific,” I yelled.

Chance was smiling politely, trying to get my attention. He had no idea what was going on except that all of a sudden he couldn’t hear.

“What would you miss?” he yelled.

“Everything,” I yelled.

“I rest my case,” he yelled.

“That’s not fair. I told you in the hospital. All the things I love about you,” I yelled.

“Let’s hear it,” he yelled.

“Your hands,” I yelled.

I was racking my brain. I’d had a whole list, but I was stumped under pressure and without the lucidity of morphine.

“That’s it?” he yelled. “My hands?”

“No, that’s not it,” I yelled back. “Your hands are good though.”

He went back to whistling. A cork popped. I was trying to think of what to add when he came out with wine and a plate of pupus. He helped me sit up, took Chance, and handed me a glass.

“How about my face, my laugh, my intelligence, I’m nice to babies and waitresses,” he said. “Do you remember what I said?”

“Not really. I wasn’t well, Jon.”

“You wouldn’t remember if you were on top of your game.”

“You’re not going to tell me?” I asked.

“Nope. Everything covers it.”

He sat down in the rocking chair and smiled back and forth with Chance. He looked at me.

“I’d miss your hands washing my back. Your face in the morning. The way you float. I’d miss hearing you wheedle and boss crew guys, and the snooty looks you give Jugs Eli. You and Karin with your evil laughs. I’d miss it all, H. Life with you.”

“I can’t imagine life without you,” I said.

“I’ll probably die first. I’m older.”

“Oh, Jon. Don’t say that. I worry all the time as it is.”

“I’m just being realistic, H.”

“Do you feel like we lived different lives while I was in the hospital?”

“I ran, and hauled your meals to the hospital. That was different.”

“How do you feel about our life now?”

He was quiet. I played with Chance’s hand and tried to act nonchalant. Jon stayed quiet. I looked at him.

“Is this going to be an octopus conversation?” he asked.

“No. I told Jane I felt like our lives split apart with the accident. She asked if you feel the same way.”

“Not now. I did when you were missing, but not after you were back,” he said.            

Someone knocked on the kitchen door. He kissed the top of my head and headed to the kitchen.

“Jimmy and Keith are eating with us,” he said.            

Keith? A couple of young mutts came out on the lanai. A man whistled and yelled.

“Hans! Arlen! Come!”

Hans and Arlen went deaf and continued to wiggle their butts with their paws on the bed while they licked Chance’s toes. He snort laughed. A man stuck his head around the corner.

“Sorry about that. They’re young. I can put them in the car.”

“They’re okay,” I said.

He scooped up a pup under each arm, and still managed to shake my hand. He was Jimmy’s partner, Keith.

Jimmy came out with the red plastic toolbox he used as his doctor bag and pulled the reading light down close. They both inspected my finger. I could almost touch my palm with the tip. Jimmy liked that it was cool and closed up. Keith went back in the kitchen and talked to Jon.

“You didn’t tell me your partner is a Keith.”

“I said we had dogs and might adopt.”

“Is that code for, I’m gay?”

“It’s a solid hint.”

We ate dinner on the lanai. Keith was a psychiatric nurse who was working for the Army in Germany when they met. Jimmy was still living in London and had gone to a medical conference in Switzerland where he ran into Keith at a talk on acupuncture for depression.

“What did you think about out there?” asked Keith. “May I ask?”

I hadn’t remembered, much less told anyone, the full extent of my thoughts, but I started talking and it came flooding out. The pups jumped up on my bed and put their heads in my lap. Chance fell asleep to my drone. The sun set. The only light was a pool of red and orange Indian bedspread. I broke the trance and looked at their faces.

“I was just there. Suspended between this life and the big mystery of what comes next,” I said. “The worst part was thinking that Jon and the babies might live their lives not knowing what happened to me. That I loved them until the end. That would be hard for them.”

“One of my patients is reading the
The Gulag Archipelago
,” said Keith. “He said we should tell the people we love that we love them every time we walk out the door, in case we don’t come back.”

“I read the book. I should say books. They were like their own archipelago,” I said, “I remember that part. I tried it for a while. My college roommates thought I was nuts, then I forgot.”

The dogs started whining and agitating to go out. The guys joked around telling us how much they loved us, and then Jon walked them out. He came back and got in bed with me.

“You okay with all that?” he asked. “That’s the first time you’ve told the story.”

“It just came out. I like Keith. I bet he’s a great nurse.”

“I can see how you would feel separate, H, but you were always with us.”

“I know.”

Jon’s phone rang. Victor. He listened for a second and his face transformed. Every ounce of softness was gone. It was frightening.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

He held his hand up to stop me.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll come get her.”

He was gone. I was cold. I had visions of the scar face guy showing up for payback. I hoped Jon wasn’t walking into some awful confrontation. Meggie must be okay. He was bringing her home.

They were back in ten minutes. Her voice stuttered an endless story to the beat of his earth pounding feet.

He stood her on the bed. She’d had a bath over there and was still wrapped in a towel. Most evenings they filled a wading pool in the yard and washed all the kids, dogs, and frequently Chop, at the same time. Victor had rigged a hose for hot and cold water and sprayed them all down to a chorus of screaming, squealing and barking. Meggie had her own towel on the pegs along the side of the house. Jon tossed her clothes in the chair, sat on the bed next to her, and lifted the towel off her butt.

“I didn’t get her another tattoo, if that’s what you’re looking for,” I said.

“Turn around, Megs,” he said. “I want to show Mama something.”

She turned her back to me and looked over her shoulder. An angry red handprint marked her. I shot my hand out and ran my finger around it as she watched my face.

“Did someone spank you, Angel?” I asked. “Here on your bottom.”

I wasn’t sure if she knew what spanked meant, we’d never talked about spanking.

“No.”

I checked her over. Bruise fingerprints dug into one of her soft biceps. Someone had grabbed her arm roughly and hit her. I touched the handprint again.

“Did someone hurt you?” I asked. “Right here.”

“Yes.”

“Who was it?”

She shrugged and started to cry.

“Was it someone at Victor’s?”

She shook her head hard.

“At school?”

She nodded. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks. I started to cry along with her.

“Someone at school did this?” asked Jon.

“I wanted the trike,” she said.

“Of course you did, Angel,” I said. “You love the trike.”

She stuck her thumb in her mouth. I looked at Jon.

“Who said you couldn’t have the trike?” he asked.

“Sandy,” she said around her slobbery finger. “I’m a bad girl.”

“Oh, Angel,” I said. “You are such a good girl.”

Sandy was the helper at preschool. Jon was pacing and grinding his teeth. The school was closed. There was nothing he hated more than being presented with a problem at the wrong time of day. I felt helpless and like throwing up the news from a stomach lined with ice. I rocked her and stroked her head. Jon grabbed his phone and left the room.

“You are a good good girl,” I said. “You are the best girl ever. Mama and Papa love you. Chance loves you. Chop loves you. Victor and Kaia and Tutu love you. Grandma and Grandpa love you. Grandma and Arthur love you. Arthur really loves you. Chana loves you so much. And Adam. Oh my gosh, Adam is crazy about you. Eric and Anna love you. Sherry and Bob love you. Karin and Oscar.”

“Gus loves me,” she said.

“Gus really really loves you. I bet he’s thinking about you right now. Wishing you were there. He’s probably howling he’s so lonesome.”

I started howling. I could hardly breathe. She started giggling. I tickled her.

“You think that’s funny?” I asked. “I sound just like Gus.”

“You do not, Mama.”

Jon’s angry voice came through the door. He came out and gently lifted Meggie’s towel and took a couple of pictures. She started crying again.

“You’re a brave girl,” he said.

He kissed the top of her head and went back inside. I kept hugging her.

“Go get your nightie and hairbrush. I’ll braid your hair, then it will be all curly in the morning.”

She hopped off the bed holding her towel and watched her own feet as she crossed them back and forth out of the room. It was amazing she didn’t walk into doorjambs all day long. Jon said something gentle to her as she went by and she chirped a response. He came out and sat on the edge of the bed.