Answered Prayers (18 page)

“I ate on the plane. I just want to go to bed. Those kids will probably be up all night.”

“She said they're going out. I'll ask her to keep the noise down.”

“Thanks,” he said, and closed the door. There had been no kiss, no hug, no affectionate greeting. He had simply walked into the room and begun to complain about the noise. She couldn't blame him for reacting to the disruption, but it would have been nice if he'd had something to say to her after being away for three days.

She stopped in to see Zoe and her friends a few minutes later and asked them to try to hold down the noise. There were two pizza boxes sitting open on her bed, while two of the girls ate pizza and watched TV, and Zoe dried her hair. And there was an assortment of Chinese food waiting in the kitchen downstairs. Zoe had come home at full steam.

“Your father's going to bed in a little while, Zoe,” Faith said quietly. “Maybe you guys could tone it down a little bit.”

“We're going out soon, Mom,” Zoe shouted over the hair dryer. “Three of my friends are coming over in a few minutes, we'll eat something here, and then we'll go out.”

“Don't forget to turn off the TV and the stereo when you go downstairs.”

“I promise.” She did as she said, but when they finally thundered downstairs, Faith found Zoe's curling iron and her hot rollers blazing on the bathroom sink, and she had forgotten to empty the tub. It was useless to point it out to her. She always forgot anyway. She had also left two candles burning in the room, which worried Faith. She was always afraid they would burn down the house. Candles were a constant battle between them, and Zoe always accused her of being paranoid.

“Did they go out?” Alex asked hopefully, as Faith walked back into their room. He was in bed with a book, in pajamas, with freshly shampooed hair.

“No, but they will soon.” She didn't tell him about the candles and the curling iron. She knew he would be frantic too. At Zoe's age, there were times when she had the body of a woman, and the mind of a child.

When Faith went downstairs to check on them, they were eating Chinese food out of the boxes, and laughing hysterically. There were seven of them by then. And for an instant, she was almost relieved that Ellie hadn't come home to add her chaos to theirs, although she would have enjoyed it anyway. But Alex wouldn't have. “I thought we'd go buy the Christmas tree tomorrow,” Faith said over the others' heads.

“I can't, Mom. I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow, and I have to see my friends.” It was a tradition Faith loved sharing with her. But things were very different these days. Their traditions seemed to be vanishing in thin air. “I'm sorry. Can we do it next week?” Christmas was only nine days away.

“Do you want to do it on Sunday?” Faith asked hopefully.

“I can't. I'm going to a party in Connecticut.” “If I buy it, will you decorate it with me?” “I promise,” Zoe said, as she gave her a hug, and the doorbell rang again. Four more girls arrived, and it was another half hour before they all left. Zoe promised to be home at a decent hour, but didn't say when. And Faith stayed in the kitchen to clean up the mess. She didn't want to complain about it on Zoe's first night home. It was easier to do it herself, and it didn't take long. And when she went back upstairs to see Alex, he was sound asleep. She turned off the light, and went back downstairs to her study. The house seemed suddenly peaceful and quiet, and she smiled to herself. In spite of the noise and the mess, she loved having Zoe home. This was the life she had reveled in for twenty-four years, and it was nice having it back again, even if only for a few weeks.

She sent an e-mail to Brad, although she knew he was still on the plane. He was probably almost back in San Francisco by then. It was the second e-mail she'd sent him that day.

“Dear Brad,” she began, “well, chaos reigns. Music to my ears. Hair dryers, curling irons, pizzas arriving, Chinese food, giggling girls, rap music, stereos, TV, ice cream oozing down the counter to the kitchen floor. Zoe's home. And out again, with her friends. Alex came home from California in the midst of it all, and went to bed. He's asleep. She's out. I'm enjoying the onslaught, and by the time she leaves, I'll be off to school myself. How are you? Hope you had a good trip. It was wonderful seeing you again. I loved skating and both our dinners, and going to St. Patrick's with you. Come back soon. I miss you already. Interesting too to share our views on marriage and relationships, compromises, and the way things turn out in the end. We never used to talk about stuff like that when we were kids. Can't remember what we used to talk about. I think we just laughed a lot. I used to talk about this stuff a lot with Jack. Funny what we've ended up with, isn't it? Not the way it was supposed to work, but just the way it is. As long as the kids are around, I don't really mind. It's harder when they're away. Then you are more aware of what you've got, and what you don't.

“I wanted to buy the tree with Zoe tomorrow. She can spare me an hour in three weeks. We might have to put the tree up for Easter this year. Guess I'll buy it by myself. It's okay. As long as she's here. This house is like a tomb when she's gone.

“Don't work too hard this weekend. Talk to you soon. Love, Fred.”

She sat at her desk for a couple of hours, answering correspondence after that. And at midnight in New York, she had an e-mail from Brad.

“Hi… just got home. Turned my computer on, to write to you, and there you were. Send me some of that noise. I have the other side of that coin, bicycle pumps and skateboards in the front hall, single tennis shoes floating all over the house. Incredible racket from conflicting stereos and TVs, and my underwear always disappears. How can they wear all my shorts and take all my socks? Cars parked on the sidewalk outside the house. A cluster of young males devouring everything in the fridge. I miss it all. I wish mine were home too. Enjoy every minute of it! I enjoyed every minute with you, Fred. What a gift to have found you again, after all these years. I'm sorry I lost you three years ago. I promise it won't happen this time. You're too good to be true. Why didn't I snatch you up and keep you when you were fourteen? I was pursuing girls with big boobs and no brains in those days. The bigger the better. Jack would have killed me anyway. Better this way. I love you as a friend, little sister. Thank you for bringing so much sunshine into my life. If your mom were still alive, I'd go thank her for everything you are. Probably no thanks to her. You just are who you are. I'm going to go fall into bed. Wish I were there to decorate the tree with you. Give Zoe a hug from her mom's oldest friend. Don't kiss Alex for me, he wouldn't understand. And take care of you, Fred. Only nine more days till Christmas. Eight till I shop. Love, Brad.”

Faith smiled to herself as she read it, and then finally went upstairs to read in bed. She wanted to wait up until Zoe came home, which she did at two o'clock. And Faith went to kiss her goodnight. She looked happy and excited to see her friends, and her best girlfriend from high school had come home to spend the night with her, which was fine with Faith.

“See you in the morning, girls,” Faith said as she closed the door, and then opened it again. “No candles, please. I'd like to try not to burn the house down before Christmas, if we can manage it. Okay by you?”

“Okay, Mom,” Zoe looked amused. “Goodnight.”

Alex was snoring when she slipped into bed beside him, and she turned to look at him as she turned off the light. She could never have had the discussions she'd had with Brad that week, not with Alex, he wouldn't have seen the point of it. And he would never have waxed poetic over the lovable chaos of his children in the house. He wouldn't have skated with her, or gone to St. Patrick's with her to light a candle for Jack. Why was it that one could do things like that with friends, and never with the men in one's life? Alex was solid and serious and reliable, and they had been married forever. But he would have dismissed her out of hand if she had tried to talk to him about the sacrifices one made in marriage, or the compromises one had to make. He would never have understood, and wouldn't have wanted to. She and Alex talked about other things, like children, and business, and his latest trip, or something she'd heard in the news. But she couldn't have shared her philosophies with him, or the dreams of her heart. That was just the way it was. There was no point musing about it, or regretting what she didn't have. And now she could talk to Brad. Just as he had said about her, he was a gift in her life.

She turned the light off then, and five minutes later she was asleep. And when she woke up the next morning, Alex was gone. He had gone to seek refuge in the office and catch up on his work. Faith was getting out of the bathtub and reaching for a towel, when Zoe walked in.

“Wow, Mom! Where'd you get that bruise?” Zoe looked shocked, and Faith looked down in surprise. She hadn't even noticed it. There was a long black and blue mark on her hip.

“What? … Oh … that… I must have gotten it skating the other night,” she said, drying herself off. Although the bruise looked impressive, it was barely sore.

“You went skating? Since when do you skate?” Zoe looked surprised.

“Since I was about five. And not in a long time. Don't you remember? I used to take you skating when you were little, in the park.” Jack had even gone with them once or twice. But Zoe had probably been too young to remember.

“Yeah, I guess,” Zoe said vaguely. She had been more interested in ballet, and horses after that. “So who did you go skating with?” She couldn't imagine her skating alone. That seemed weird.

“An old friend of Uncle Jack's. We grew up together. He came to New York for a couple of days, and we went skating for old times' sake. It was fun.”

“What's he like?” Zoe looked interested, as her mother got dressed and they chatted. It was all part of what Faith loved about having her at home. It was company for her.

“He's a nice man. He reminds me a lot of Uncle Jack. We've been sending each other e-mails for the past two months. I ran into him at Papa Charles's funeral. He lives in San Francisco, and is a criminal defense attorney for kids. Heavy stuff. Felonies, that kind of thing. You met him at Uncle Jack's funeral but you probably don't remember him.” The girls had met a lot of people that day, and they'd all been upset. Zoe looked amused.

“Do you have a crush on him, Mom? You look so cute when you talk about him.”

“Don't be silly. I've known him all my life.”

“Weirder things have happened. Does he have a crush on you?”

“Nope. We're just good friends. Kind of like sister and brother. We talk about a lot of stuff, and have a lot of the same ideas. Probably because we grew up together. I guess that helps.”

“Is he married?” Zoe was intrigued by him. It sounded exotic to her. She couldn't remember her mother ever having a close male friend, although she knew some married women did. She also didn't think her mother had affairs, even though she thought her father wasn't nice to her. Zoe thought it would have served him right, and maybe been good for Faith. She was open to all possibilities, far more so than Faith.

“Yes, he's married. He has two sons, twins. They're working in Africa for the year. They're about Ellie's age.”

“Maybe she'd like to meet them sometime. Are they cute?” He had shown her a photograph, and they looked just like him.

“I think so.”

“Then they're probably not cute,” Zoe said, and walked back to her own room.

It seemed odd to Faith that Zoe was so intrigued by Brad. And a little while later, Zoe left to get a haircut, and Faith went out to buy the tree. She bought a tall wide one that would look nice in the living room, and they delivered it that afternoon. She was decorating it when Alex came home, and he stood watching her for a moment, and then sat down, as though the project didn't involve him. She was up on a ladder, hanging brightly colored balls on the top branches. She'd struggled with the lights for an hour before that.

“Want to help?” she asked hopefully. Zoe was nowhere in sight, and hadn't come home yet.

“Looks like you have it in control,” he said, and then disappeared. He hated decorating the tree. She always did it with the kids, but those days seemed to be over. The kids no longer had time, or the interest in doing it themselves. It took her another hour, and then she stood back and looked at her work with pleasure. The tree looked beautiful, and festive. She put on a CD of Christmas carols, and went to look for something on her desk. And when she did, she saw that she had mail. She hadn't checked her computer all day.

“Hi, Fred. Depressing day. Had to share it with someone. Got a call from a couple, saw them a little while ago. Their fifteen-year-old daughter is accused of killing their six-year-old son. From all I can gather, she is mentally ill, though not obviously so, but clearly she is. She may be tried as a result, though I think I can get a sanity hearing for her. She'll probably go to an institution for the criminally insane. Tragedy for them. They're destroyed. Some Christmas gift. The pictures of the little boy broke my heart. I'm going to see the girl tonight. She's being evaluated now. Some days I don't love my job. Can't do much to fix this one, or to help them, except pretty technical stuff. Sorry to bum you out. Hope you're having a decent day. Better than mine. Did you get the tree? I'll bet it looks beautiful. And you too. I liked your red coat. Did I tell you that? You look great in red. And on skates. More soon. Love, Brad.”

He sounded so down, she answered him immediately.

“I'm so sorry about the case. Sounds terrible. The ultimate nightmare, it will be like losing both kids for them. How awful for all concerned. I'm really sorry that landed in your lap. All is fine here. The tree is up. Looks pretty good. Zoe escaped all day. A six-hour haircut spared her tree-decorating duty. She'll be home any minute, I'm sure. Have to start dinner. Just wanted to say hi. I looked so good on skates, I now have a bruise from my hip to my knee. Zoe was horrified. Told her where I'd been and with whom. She was impressed. Hope you meet her again next time. Take care. Try to cheer up. Love, Fred.”