Temporary Father (Welcome To Honesty 1) (9 page)

“S
O WHAT ARE YOU
going to do next?” Van asked over the phone that night.

She balanced her elbow on the arm of his living room sofa. “I called and made appointments with all of them. We see one tomorrow, one the next day and the last one next Monday after Eli gets out of school.”

“Will it work if Eli doesn’t want to go?”

“I can’t lurk around the house, listening at his door, hoping he starts to feel better.”

He didn’t say anything. She knew what he was thinking. Dragging Eli to a doctor wouldn’t do him any good unless he took part in getting well.

“Did Brent have an idea what might be behind all this?”

“No more than I do. The obvious things are plenty. He hasn’t enjoyed going to school here and that takes up most of his time. If he had more than a month left, I’d take him back to the old one.”

“That wouldn’t have worked for either of you in morning traffic.”

“I should have rented a house closer to the lodge.”

“Are you kidding? Waste money when you’re trying to find more?” Van, calm and full of confidence, was just the prescription for her tonight. “Life keeps throwing obstacles at you, and you keep slugging away. Maybe this is when Eli learns to do that, too. Hey, wasn’t your appointment with Jonathan Barr today?”

“I took the loan.” She gave him the figures. “It won’t be enough. I’m suddenly downsizing, but I guess I can build on later. They’re pouring the foundation tomorrow unless it rains.”

“Maybe we could talk about going into business together and adding cottages. You’re land rich.”

“Van.” She almost asked him why he wouldn’t tell her the truth about his own troubles. She stopped herself because she didn’t like when he harassed her for the truth.

“I won’t give up on this idea,” he said. “I had plenty of time to think on the flight, and this would be a good investment.”

“Are you serious?” An investment wasn’t the same as a handout. “Could you afford it?”

“I’m serious, and I could find the money. The only problem I see is that we both like to take charge. Are you any good at compromise?”

“Not according to Campbell or Eli, and I know you’re not.”

“We’ll talk about it when I get home. Have you checked on Aidan?”

Her throat tightened and her heart plummeted as she felt herself in his arms again. His kisses made her forget everything that mattered. She wanted only one more second of the closeness of his body against hers, his mouth drawing life from her, giving it back.

Thank God Eli couldn’t be swept from her mind for long.

“I see him.”

“You sound funny.”

She scrambled for an excuse. “Because you keep accusing me of trying to kill him. He’s fine. He also wanted to know about Eli, and I told him. He doesn’t need anything for the house.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

“Someone’s knocking at my door. I don’t know if it’s dinner showing up late, or my seven o’clock meeting.”

“You’d better go.”

“Let me know how Eli likes the doctors.”

“Okay.”

“And try to keep Mrs. Carleton from quitting.”

“I try harder than you do. At least Eli and I pick up after ourselves.”

“Because of guilt.”

They hung up, laughing. She called Campbell to tell him what she was planning for their son. What a lucky night. She got his answering machine.

According to Eli, his father had avoided her calls before, but that was okay with her. If he’d acted like nothing was wrong with Eli, she’d have lost her temper, and he’d never appreciated her swearing-like-a-stevedore side.

She left the information and then dropped the phone on the cherry end table before flopping her legs over the end of the couch.

Then she heard the car. Starting and stopping. Despite dread almost gluing her to the chair, she ran for the garage.

It was cold. And dark, except for the light in her car illuminating Eli, who had eyes only for the dashboard in front of him. Good God, surely he wasn’t trying to…

Beth hit the garage door opener. “Come out of there.” Her own voice scared her. Harsh, a stranger’s, thick with terror and furious.

Eli stared at her through the open driver’s window. As a little boy, he’d taken her keys or Campbell’s to “play drive” in the car. How many times had she and Campbell argued over the front
seat of a car being an unsafe playhouse? Campbell had thought they should just hide their keys.

Find some calm. Don’t make this worse.

She gulped one breath after another of the musty air. Crossing that painted, pale gray floor she felt as if she were watching herself march to the car.

She opened the door and then yanked Eli out. His shoulders felt fragile as balsa wood. She wanted to shake him and hug him so close he could never leave, and no one could get in to hurt him. And she needed to do it all at the same time. His dull eyes refused to focus on her.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Thinking.”

“You don’t think in a car with the engine on and the garage door shut.”

He brought his hands up between them and shoved her away so that she staggered. “Let me go.” He might have been sleepwalking.

She wanted to grab him again. Instead, she wrapped her arms around her own waist. If only someone could show her the right thing to do. “You could have killed yourself. Do I have to follow you around until we see that doctor in the morning?”

Her accusation finally shattered the fog. She knew the second he recognized her, but the boy inside his eyes was a stranger. Her blood froze.

“I’ll go,” he said.

“Go where?” Was he threatening her in that terrifying monotone? He wanted to run away?

“I need to feel normal, Mom. Nothing’s happened, but I feel sad and bad. I’m always sad and I’m usually angry, and I always feel a little afraid, deep down, like something bad’s about to happen. I’ll go to that doctor if he can make it stop.”

“Damn right you will.” At his sullen look, she shut her mouth. She was the adult. Twisting fear into anger would only alienate him. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You scared me, Eli. Why were you turning on the car with the door shut?”

He looked her straight in the eye. This time she saw her son starting to form inside those blank eyes. “I’ve done that a million times, Mom. You know I have.”

“You’ve turned it on with the garage door open. You’ve never worked up a cloud of carbon monoxide.”

“I never thought about the door being closed. If I had, I would have opened it. Mom, look at me. I’m not like other kids. Maybe you were never like me and you can’t understand.”

“You’re eleven years old. You know better. I want to take you to the emergency room.”

“No. I already agreed to go to that doctor tomorrow.”

“And you were doing something that could kill you, son. You’re too responsible to risk sitting in a running car in a closed garage, but if you were trying to—hurt yourself, you’d pretend this was nothing, just play—like when you were a kid.”

“You’re going to tell the doctor tomorrow. I’ll
tell him. Would I do that if I was suicidal and trying to hide it?”

She looked at her son working so hard to make her believe. “You’re not a child at all anymore.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. So don’t always be touching me. Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m not sure anyone can.”

She shivered. The sun never reached inside this building. The longer she stood here, the more it felt as cold as death. “Will you talk to Brent if I can get him on the phone?”

“No, Mom.” He walked away. Taking the opportunity to dash tears out of her eyes, she didn’t back down.

“Otherwise, we go to the hospital. I want to believe you, but I won’t let you—”

“Die? You can see I don’t want to do that. It’s the last thing I—” He stopped, staring at her face as if he couldn’t stand to see her.

No doubt she wasn’t hiding anything. “I’ll call Brent.”

“All right.” With his fists clenched, he stomped toward the house. Suddenly, he stopped and went back to open the back seat of the car.

Only then, did Beth see Lucy, nothing but a pair of eyes against the black upholstery. She tumbled to the floor, her nails scratching the surface. Then she grabbed at Eli’s hand with her mouth. He brushed her away, but then patted her side.

Beth breathed again. He’d never hurt Lucy. No
matter what, Eli would protect his dog with his last breath. Just the way a mom would.

Lucy peered, her soulful brown gaze asking, “What next?” Beth rubbed her shoulder. She longed to pretend nothing could happen, but it was too late. “Let’s go in and get Dr. Brent before he leaves his office.”

“Can we wait until after Mrs. Carleton leaves? She was mean at lunchtime, like she thought I let you sleep on the couch to be funny. She asked me why I didn’t wake you so you could sleep in your bed like decent folk.”

“That sounds like Mrs. Carleton, but I’m sorry. We need to catch Brent tonight.” He turned away. More mutiny. Fortunately they had a distraction who actually needed addressing. “Maybe you could give Mrs. Carleton a break? I don’t know much about her, which is unusual around here, but she moved to Honesty when she was older. She may never have had children.”

“Or she may have scared them so much they don’t come see her.”

“I meant she’s not used to our noise or the way you and I are always running here and there. Van is more easygoing.”

“And he’s not here much, getting her house junky,” Eli said.

“Mrs. Carleton has ideas about propriety. We’ll move home as soon as we can, Eli. Learning to be patient with her might be good for both of us.”

“Maybe you need a makeover. I don’t.” Sarcasm dripped from every word, but Beth smiled benignly, grateful for any emotion after a glimpse of that boy in the garage.

In the kitchen, she reached for the portable phone. Just after Eli was born, she’d memorized Brent’s number without even meaning to.

“Can I talk to him privately for a minute?” she asked her son.

Eli left the room on a jet trail of resentment. Beth held out her hand as if she could drag him back.

This time Brent’s receptionist put her through instantly. He picked up the phone and said a worry-tainted hello. “Something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.” She explained what had happened. “He looked as if he were in shock, and he said he just wants to feel normal, but I seem to make it worse.”

“Because you force him to pay attention to what’s happening. Don’t you, somewhere deep inside, wish you could put your head in the sand and pretend this will go away on its own?”

“Absolutely, and it’s a relief to say so out loud.”

“Did you think he was trying to kill himself, Beth?”

“No.” She gripped the phone tighter. “He had Lucy in the back seat. He’d never harm her.”

Brent tapped the phone with something. “Okay, but I have to ask. Are you sure he wouldn’t think Lucy’d be better off if he sort of took her with him?”

“You don’t have to pussyfoot around. I know what you mean and I’m positive. I see what kind of father he’ll be in the way he cares for Lucy. He’s not capable of hurting her.”

“You’d bet his life on that?”

“Nearly. If you speak to him and feel satisfied that we can wait until tomorrow, I’ll be his shadow tonight.”

“Better let me talk to him. Remember though, I’m not a psychologist.”

“But you’ve known him all his life.”

She passed through every nook and corner on the way to Van’s study where Eli had turned on the TV. Mrs. Carleton was nowhere to be found.

“Here you go.” She handed him the phone. “Talk to him honestly if you can, Eli.” He snapped his mouth shut and sat up, on the verge of telling her off.

She exited, trying to give him space to breathe.

T
HE FIRST NAME
on Brent’s list, a man who ordered them to call him Dr. Drayton, was a dismal failure. His office was all heavy slabs of furniture. His eyes held no compassion, though he boomed like a favorite old uncle when he spoke.

He left cigar stubs all over the place. A manly man, and too much so for her. But what about Eli? She had to let him decide.

“I’m just a blunt guy.” Dr. Drayton showed them to straight-backed, cushionless chairs on the other side of his desk. “I’ll always tell you what I think, and I’ll suggest anything that makes Eli’s life better, but Mrs. Tully, you may not hear what you want.”

Beth concentrated on hiding her misgivings.

“How are the boy’s grades?” Even though Eli was at her side, the doctor interrogated Beth, Marine style. Grades, friends, curfew, diet…

She cut in after he asked about pets. “Why don’t you ask my son directly?”

“I’ll talk to Eli in a moment.”

He went on to sleeping habits, recent illnesses,
the number of hours Eli spent on the phone, on video games and online.

Beside her, Eli stewed in anger, and Beth didn’t dare offer a hand to comfort him. Dr. Drayton wouldn’t approve of the soft touch and Eli might bite her head off.

At last Dr. Drill Sergeant suggested she wait outside while he and Eli spoke. She went, cursing herself for letting him think he intimidated her, but this situation demanded restraint. A trait she’d never before practiced when anyone tried to interfere with her son.

Within a few minutes, Eli came out, too, red-eyed, stern, refusing to speak at all. Dr. Drayton asked Beth to come back. She hated leaving Eli.

“Mrs. Tully, your boy will be fine. Please join me.”

She sat in the chair she’d vacated, whacking her spine against the no-frills wooden back.

“You’re smothering your son,” the man said.

She clutched the wooden seat. It was that or beat him about the head with the bronze eagle grounded on his desk. “Did Eli say I smother him?”

“You answered every question I asked you correctly. Should any mother know that much about her child?”

“If she’s been worried about him, if she’s involved with his school and if she lives in the same house with him. How would I not know about his friends?” Dear God, don’t let me be driving my son to suicide.

“Don’t get me wrong. I think we made progress,” he said. “Eli’s not used to a man’s input, but we understood each other. He’s reluctant to talk, but that’s always true at a first visit when a little guy’s mother is forcing him to see someone.”

“You’re implying I shouldn’t insist?”

“No. No. But Eli’s growing into a man. He needs a little less woman time. Seeing me will be good for him.”

There it was. Another accusation of coddling. Could he be right? Was Eli simply trying to outgrow her?

“I can’t pretend this isn’t happening. I have to make sure he’s all right.”

“No, Mrs. Tully. You have to give him room. And I’m the man who can teach him to put a safe distance between you.”

She sat back. “I’m everything bad in his life?”

“No.” He laughed at her. Laughed. As if he were a sadistic clown, rather than a man charged with caring for emotionally troubled patients. She wanted to erase that smile from his he-man face. But she also needed to fall on her knees and beg for answers, in case he was right and she’d caused this trauma.

She rubbed her forehead and behind closed eyes, saw Eli again, stomping out to a chair in the waiting room.

“You’re blind. You don’t even see he’s resentful and resistant,” she said. “Not grateful you’re riding
in to save the day.” Pressing her fingers to her lips, she tried to stop.

“You’ll keep seeing me with your son. I can teach you both strategies—”

“I don’t know how you keep your job, and you certainly won’t be condescending to me or teaching my son to be a misogynist. As if he needs more problems.”

Standing, she slid her purse between her elbow and side and sailed out of his office. Eli didn’t look at her. She eased the doctor’s door shut.

“I think we both need ice cream.”

They went to their favorite specialty store. The drill sergeant would have assigned her extra duty, cleaning a toilet or something, which only made the ice cream taste sweeter. Eli managed to unlock his jaws enough to choke down a mixed slab of dairy cream and bubble gum with sprinkles on top.

When they got home, Beth parked in the garage and grabbed Eli’s arm before he could get out of the car. “Want to go for a run?”

“Can Lucy come?”

“Sure.”

“Do I have to go back to that guy?”

“Are you kidding me? I’m going to redo my will tonight with strict instructions that you’re never to darken his door again.” She took a deep breath. “Just in case.”

Eli laughed. Red rimmed his eyes again. “I never thought I’d say this, but tonight I’m glad you make a big deal about the small stuff.”

They left the garage and walked out the front to take the sidewalk to the porch. Morning sunlight had disappeared behind black and blue clouds, and rain began to slap the cement in fat drops.

“There goes our basement,” Eli said.

If getting them back into their home didn’t seem like a vital part of Eli’s cure, she wouldn’t have had the energy to care. The rain wetting their faces felt all too appropriate.

A
FTER THEIR MEETING
with the good Dr. Devastation, Beth found little jobs for Eli to do all day. That night, once he was in bed, she couldn’t stop herself from strolling past his room. Again and again and then one more time.

Finally, she leaned her forehead against the door, praying he wouldn’t open it to find her worrying so much she had to wait, listening for him to move. How many times had she leaned over his crib when he was a newborn, taking comfort from the slight elevation of his chest?

Eleven years later, watching made her sick.

At last she sat against the wall opposite his room and let the tears fall. She couldn’t help it. She hadn’t given in where Eli could see her. But during the dark hours of night-into-morning she fell apart.

At last, the sudden familiar grunt he’d always made as he turned—more like whirled—in his bed made it through the door. Beth pushed herself up the wall, wiping her face.

He hadn’t refused to see the next doctor, and he was sleeping. She couldn’t ask for more.

A home and a father at least as mature as his own son? She wouldn’t let herself think of Aidan and the promises he’d nearly made.

For anything that extravagant, she’d still need a fairy godmother.

She stared at the telephone in her bedroom, but didn’t touch it.

T
HE NEXT MORNING
Beth woke reluctantly. She and Eli hardly spoke through breakfast. Moving her mouth cost too much energy, and the queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach refused to be ignored.

“I wish you’d calm down, Mom.”

She concentrated on relaxing every muscle from her scalp down. “I’m making a mental list. We have so many things to do today, and I’m still hoping we get our basement.”

“I’ll bet the dirt doesn’t dry out enough for Mr. Grove to go back.”

“I called him last night. He said they’d almost finished putting the forms together.”

“The forms to pour the cement in? Maybe tomorrow then.”

“How do you know about that?”

“I hang around with the other guys. Their dads do stuff like that. Adam Grove was in my Geography class.” He sounded wistful.

“If we ever have another accident like this, let’s
rent a house in our old neighborhood.” She pushed her spoon and napkin and bowl together, preparatory to getting up. “We’d better dress for your appointment.”

“Here we go again.”

“We’ll find someone.”

“I don’t like the way people look at me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t like the way you look at me.”

Her queasiness welled. “I’m sorry. I’d love to be the stoic type, and I keep thinking I’m hiding what I feel, but I don’t seem to be keeping you safe.”

“Whatever.”

He picked up his cereal bowl and set it in the sink with a rattle that made her get up and check for cracks after he walked out of the room.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mrs. Carleton.” Beth almost dropped the bowl as she faced the other woman. “Aren’t you early today?”

“No.”

She was, but talk about a pointless argument. Beth had no urge to mentally arm wrestle the formidable housekeeper. “Nice to see you. We’re going out.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Huh?”

“The boy’s in trouble. I’ve overheard folks talking in town.”

A mother’s protective rage electrified—damn near shorted Beth’s brain. “Mrs. Carleton, I’ve tried
to stay out of your way and make no extra work. I’m not sure why you don’t like us or why you always hid your animosity until my brother invited us to stay, but I had better never hear you’ve said one word against Eli.”

“Calm down, Mrs. Tully.” The other woman set two net bags of shopping on the island and tried to cool Beth with one of her icy glances. “I was going to ask if I could do anything to help you or your son. You probably won’t be surprised to hear I have a little depression myself. I thought the boy was upset, and if you need any extra help with him, babysitting, whatever, I’d be glad to help.” She looked even colder when she was trying to be kind.

“I see—no, I don’t.”

“I don’t dislike you two, but I get attached to people who stay awhile. I don’t want to be attached.” She opened the strings on the first bag and pulled out a sack of sugar. “And pardon me for being blunt, but you’re not the tidiest guests who’ve ever visited Mr. Haddon.”

Beth understood the part about not wanting to get attached. She found herself checking for Aidan’s car at all hours. “I’ve misjudged you.”

Mrs. Carleton looked disappointed. “I expected something a little sharper from you, Mrs. Tully.”

“I wish you’d call me Beth.”

“Feeling egalitarian now that I’ve confessed to having a soft heart?”

“I heard nothing about soft.” Smiling felt odd, but
good. Mrs. Carleton might look like Lot’s wife after she’d turned into salt, but she was trying to reach out. Abandoned by her own husband, she’d understand Beth’s reasoning. “I hate hearing my last name.” More than ever right now.

Mrs. Carleton stopped in the middle of putting eggs in the fridge. “Why didn’t you change it back?”

“Because of Eli. I wanted us to have the same name.”

“Ahhh. I never had that problem.”

“Why didn’t you take back your maiden name?”

“Women didn’t do that when I got divorced.” She shut the refrigerator with a shove that rattled every glass object. “Do you want breakfast?”

End of conversation. Beth shook her head. “We just finished. I’ll do our dishes before—”

“Cleaning the kitchen is my job. I’m sure you have more pressing commitments.”

“I can—”

Mrs. Carleton turned with a look, clearly preferring to be alone while her confessions still wavered in the kitchen air.

Beth lifted both hands. “I meant thanks.” She hurried down the hall and up the stairs to her room to change and get ready for running the next stage of the therapist gauntlet.

She’d lived in Honesty almost all her life, but the people still surprised her. Imagine Mrs. Carleton guarding her tender center with intimidating crankiness left over from a bad divorce.

Beth didn’t want to be that way.

She wanted to believe again. She wanted to believe Aidan when he swore he’d keep promises and went out of his way to care for her and Eli.

As Beth turned from her closet, pulling a T-shirt over her head, she caught sight of the cottage roof. What was he doing?

Had he thought of the kisses she’d walled off in a compartment that had no door? She’d dated since the divorce. She’d shared kisses.

None of them had touched her, tempted her, unnerved her the way his had. Muttering with frustration, she grabbed a pair of jeans and shimmied into them. Her son’s reaction to Aidan’s certain departure didn’t bear considering if she wanted to keep her grip on sanity.

“Mom?” He thudded on her door with surprising force.

“Coming.” She twisted her hair into a ponytail and stepped into flip-flops as she crossed to open up for him. “Ready?”

“I’ve been waiting for you.” He looked at the watch his father had given him two years ago. The woven band had begun to fray, but Eli refused a replacement. He kept saying he’d ask his dad for a new one.

Bitterness choked Beth. Eli probably had asked, but Campbell had most likely turned him down.

“Let’s go.” She shut her door with a shudder at her unmade bed. “And pray Mrs. Carleton doesn’t set foot in there.”

“She’s all over this place.” He led the way downstairs. “Mom, don’t I seem okay?”

“Not all the time.”

“I’m fine, though. Why do I have to go to another doctor?”

“Maybe you feel all right now because you know you’re going to get help.” She’d read that online. “What if something went wrong? The house burned again? Or you got a grade you didn’t like at school? What if something made you sad?”

“I’m not a baby. It’s more than sad.”

Why did Campbell get to be so oblivious, but Eli had to be self-aware and mature? “That’s why you’re going. You know it’s worse than being normally sad.”

“Okay, but I don’t want anyone yelling at me.”

“I’m going to ask Brent why he sent us to that lunatic. He actually said he would have taken his kid to any of these therapists. Brent must know him from conferences when he’s on his best behavior.”

“What if Dr. Brent was wrong about all the doctors he told you about?”

“We’ll find someone else.”

In the car, they were both too anxious to talk. Today’s counselor, Dr. Kathy Lester, had her offices in the medical building. “Since Brent’s in the same building with Dr. Lester, maybe he knows her better.”

“Is that supposed to be good?” Eli asked.

“I hope.” She turned past the courthouse and wove through back streets.

“I thought Aidan might come by last night.”

“He’s got that laptop and I guess his folks and the doctors have kept him from working until now. He’s probably a workaholic.” She had to prepare Eli for the day Aidan left.