Circle in the Sand (5 page)

His eyes brightened and peered into mine for some sign that I didn’t hate him or believe
he was a total loser. If he knew me at all, he would have known that I wasn’t a hater.
That didn’t mean I didn’t have strong opinions.

“But you’re not that great, either,” I said matter-of-factly.

Instead of getting mad, he shook his head and laughed. “I’ll take that. So, what’s
it like when you’re at home with mom and grandma.”

“Pretty much the complete opposite of this.” I wasn’t even allowed to say “dang” in
front of grandma. I was living in a convent and didn’t know it.

“Then all this must be very confusing for you.”

“A little. I know everyone can’t be the same. Sometimes I like it at home because
you can always count on what’s going to happen there. Grandma has a rule for everything.”
I rolled my eyes. “But it’s cool coming here, too, because you never know what’s going
to happen.”

“That’s true. But, honey, I haven’t made much of an effort. I know that.”

I lifted one shoulder and let it fall.
             

He turned his body to face me and put a hand on my head. “From now on, I will make
sure we spend some good quality time together. You know I love you very much, right?”

“Love you too, Dad.”

I’m not sure I ever noticed any changes after that talk. But I do remember having
that same talk again and again over the years. That’s when I learned that you can’t
change who people are. You just have to take whatever they’re able to give.

If you have kids, there’s one thing you can find in almost any room: cheerios. They
have a way of sticking to soft pudgy skin as they waddle around the house. Then they
fall off and land in the most inconceivable places. I sit at the kitchen table and
watch as my Ben contemplates a scattering of cheerios on the spot in front of him.
He picks up one, examines it, and then sticks it on his tongue. After he swallows
it, he brings both hands down on the cereal and begins rearranging them, plotting
out his own little army attack. I don’t dare interrupt him for fear of breaking the
glorious silence. James is on the floor in the other room playing with Legos, and
Sophie is next to me doing homework. I glance at my phone and note that three whole
minutes have gone by without a sound from anyone. I can now officially die happy.

When I recover from my euphoria, I realize that silence in a home filled with children
is almost always bad news. I lean back and eye James who is still being an angel.
Then I set my sites on Sophie.

“You’re so quiet. Did something happen today?”

She shrugs one shoulder and lets out her
I don’t know
sound, “Mm-mm,” that usually means
yes
.

“Did something happen at school, sweetie?” I repeat.

She puts her pencil down and eyes me with hesitance. “I got my clip moved down.”

“Oh,” I say in a soft, almost whisper. I’ve learned that non-reaction works best to
get the whole story. Then, when they confess, I lower the boom. They haven’t figured
it out yet. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I yelled out a landmark and Ms. Weldon made me move my clip down.”

“I don’t understand what that means. Why a landmark?”

“We were doing centers, and me and Keeley were at Math cubes. She said her parents
were getting divorced and she was going to have to move away.” Sophie’s mouth is tight
and her eyes glaze over.

I reach over and rub her arm. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Are you and Daddy going to get a divorce?”

“Of course not. Why would you say something like that?”

“Because you and Daddy don’t have enough romance, and Keeley said you have to have
romance or your parents will get divorced.”

“Do you even know what that word means?”

“Sure I do. It’s when a man and a woman kiss and have the
time of their lives
.” She said the last part with her arms stretched out as if she was reading a fairy
tale.

“Where did you hear that from?” I’m almost sure I know the answer before it comes
out.

“Auntie Jax.”

So far, I haven’t worried that when I look at my Sophie, I see pieces of Jax: both
wild, uninhibited, speaking their minds, and trying to save the world one soul at
a time, but completely botching it up half the time. “First of all, Daddy and I have
enough
romance
. Now, that still doesn’t explain this landmark business.”

“When Keeley said she was moving, I got mad. I wanted to yell and say a bad word like
I heard Daddy do in the garage when he dropped the drill.”

I shake my head and wait for this story to make any kind of sense. With Sophie it
eventually gets there, but sometimes the trip is oddly fun. “And…”

“So I yelled, Hoover International DAM!”

This takes me by complete surprise and a tiny laugh escapes me. Sophie will always
find a way around the rules. “Sweetheart, I understand you were upset, but you may
not say that word…even if it is disguised in a landmark.”

Just then, Ben slams his hands down on his pile of Cheerios. “Damn, damn, damn.”

I shoot Sophie my serious-mother eyes and a head tilt, then stand and cross over to
Ben to distract him. I don’t say a word to him because telling him “no” will only
make him want to say it more. Instead I go to the laundry room, grab the hamster out
of his cage and stick him in the plastic ball. Ben loves to watch him roll around
the kitchen.

“Hammy, Hammy, Hammy,” Ben says.

I turn back to Sophie who is also now watching Hammy. “Sophie, do you understand what
I said to you? It’s okay to be angry or sad, but it’s not okay to yell and say things
we aren’t supposed to.”

She nods, and I decide this is sufficient enough for a first offense which is good
because the doorbell rings.

At the door, I look through the peephole and see Jax. The first thing I do is pull
my phone from my pocket.
Shit, what did I forget
? I think as I thumb up my calendar. I don’t see anything. I take two seconds to check
out my appearance: black yoga pants—I’ve never done yoga in my life, not to mention
I can’t remember the last time I exercised—gray, long-sleeved t-shirt, light-brown
hair in a sloppy bun. Add one unidentified stain on my right breast.
Perfect
.

I open the door and greet her with a smile and a hug. “Hi, what are you doing here?”
She knows I don’t appreciate drop-ins. I quickly scan the living room for any embarrassing
landmines she might trip over. My mind goes to my list of things to do today, and
I contemplate how this visit will set me back. I note the washer is in spin mode,
so those clothes will need to be transferred to the dryer within minutes.

Jax goes right over to James and kneels down next to him. “Hey, Buddy Boy,” she says
using the nickname Eric gave him when he was born. James smiles and hooks his arms
around her neck. “Hi, Aunt Jax.”

After she stands, I say, “Benny’s in the kitchen. Let’s go back.”

She follows me back and makes her rounds to my other two children, Ben greeting her
in the same manner James did and Sophie displaying a smile equivalent to being handed
an ice cream cone before dinner. Then Jax picks up the plastic ball and addresses
Hammy, speaking to him as if he were the fourth child. James runs in at the sound
of Ben’s and Sophie’s giggles and quickly joins in.

Since the day each of them was born, Jax has been their aunt, babysitter, friend,
and confidant. It amazes me how great they are together, and yet she seems to have
no yearning for children of her own. I don’t even think she’s been close to marriage.

“Good to see you, Jaxie,” I say, scooping Ben’s Cheerio army into a pile. He protests,
so I leave them, aware it will be easier for us to talk.

“You too, sweetie.” She sets her purse on the island and takes a seat at the table.

James runs back to the living room to finish his Lego robot. He tells me he’s going
to be the next Tony Stark. I worry about leaving him alone for too long when I know
Jax will keep me distracted.

I brush away some crumbs at the spot where she sits, and begin to tidy up the homework
papers Sophie is working on. The dirty dishes in the sink catch my eye. Why didn’t
I put those in the dishwasher when we got home? I let out a frustrated sigh.

“Stop,” Jax says eyeing me. “I don’t care.”

I smile and pretend I don’t hear her. She brings a hand down on my arm. “You’re the
best mom I know,” she says with kindness in her eyes.

Jax could convince a tiger he was a tabby, but I don’t think that she’ll ever convince
me. “I’m the
only
mom you know.”

“That’s not true. What about Gert?”

“Oh, yes, the biker that owns that tattoo shop.” I understand I am in no position
to judge another parent especially since I never met the woman. The one time I set
foot in the place was when Jax was working and convinced me to come in for a tattoo.
It was right after Sophie was born, and I guess I was trying to prove to myself that
I was still young and hot. Apparently I couldn’t stand the heat, because I left without
getting inked.

“Hey, she doesn’t look it, but she’s a very loving and responsible mother,” Jax says.

The word “responsible” pokes at my gut, and I turn my head away. I wonder if I’ll
ever stop letting remorse run my life.

“Hey, nobody can be a perfect mother, Emily. God knows I’m not perfect at anything.”
She sees the expression on my face and grows more determined. “Everyone makes mistakes
… and that doesn’t mean you kill yourself to avoid future ones. It’s un-freakin’-avoidable!”

Sophie sucks in a breath, about to call Jax on her slip-up. I quickly hold up a finger.
“Sweetie pie, it’s time to feed Jersey.” I’m glad I thought of the distraction, but
more importantly, I can’t recall the last time we fed her iguana. “Run upstairs and
take care of it, please.”

She lets out the air, defeated, and surprisingly gives in. She most likely understands
I can still punish her for what happened today at school. When she sulks away, I take
a quick peek at James and then turn back to Jax, determined to change the subject.

“So how was lunch with Sage?”

“Great. She’s hot as ever. Still running after that uptight boss of hers and trying
to pretend she’s not becoming just as uptight.”

“I’m sure she’ll work it out,” is all I come up with. It’s hard not to compare myself
to Sage. And I often reflect upon where I’d be now if I hadn’t dropped out of college
to marry Eric. But I don’t regret my decision. “So how was George’s? Sage get her
soup?”

“She did.” Jax smiles, probably remembering how we’d teased Sage when she brought
soup to school for lunch. “It was really nice to see her, and it’s a beautiful day
out there. Supposed to be a beautiful weekend too.” She raises eyebrows at me that
feel out of place, especially since I don’t recall seeing the same weather report.

“I would have loved to be down at the beach with you guys. Sorry I couldn’t make it.”

Jax doesn’t respond. Instead, an odd expression materializes on her face and she smiles.

“What?” I ask a tad unnerved.

She’s still staring at me, grinning when the doorbell rings again. Ben is fidgeting,
asking to get out, “Up, up, up,” so I pull him up, set him down, and he hits the ground
running. I gaze at Jax. Her eyes light up, and I cast a suspicious glance upon her
before heading to the door. I see through the peephole it’s Sage, and the light bulb
goes off that Jax’s giddiness is about Sage coming to surprise me. As I open the door,
I let my elation rule over my desire for control. “Oh my gosh, Sage!” I hug her tightly
in the doorway, drinking in the fresh aroma of someone who has unlimited time in the
bathroom.

Jax appears behind me, and after Sage steps in, the three of us clasp hands instinctively.
It has been almost two years since we were all in the same room together. I remember
because it was in the hospital, right after I gave birth to Ben. I’ve seen Sage two
other times after that, but Jax wasn’t there either time. We use Facebook and texting
to stay connected, but it’s not nearly enough, evidenced by the expression on each
one of our faces as we stand in the circle of friendship. My eyes burn, and I’m not
certain if the lump in my throat is for something gained or something lost.

The moment is broken when Ben stumbles off the small step in the living room and into
James’s newly built robot.

“Mom!” James yells over Ben’s wailing.

I break from the girls and scurry over, but my subconscious picks up something from
Sage that sounds like, “Did you tell her?”

James is feverishly trying to rebuild the arm that came apart. Ben is crying, holding
his barefoot. “Oh, Benny,” I say as I take his foot in my hand. “Do you want Mommy
to smother it away?”

He nods and I smother his foot with sloppy wet kisses, his sobs decreasing with every
smooch. In the background, I hear a speaker phone ringing. An instant later, the girls
are giggling, and Eric’s voice permeates the room.

“Babe! You ready for a surprise?”

He knows I hate surprises, so I’m not sure why the hell he sounds so chipper. Probably
because I can’t beat him through the phone. Whatever is going on, Sage and Jax have
obviously not thought this part through because now James and Ben are at their feet
yelling, “Daddy, Daddy!” I detect a disaster is about to unfold.

Jax gives James the shushing signal with her finger, and Sage picks up Ben and carries
him to the couch. She insanely gives him her wallet, and he begins pulling out all
her credit cards, carefully examining each one.

“All right, what’s going on?” I keep my tone playful, though I don’t have a good feeling.
I’m about to unravel so I focus on breathing.

“Babe, this is for your own good. Sage and Jax are kidnapping you for the weekend.
You’re going to have a great time. And before you say anything”—my mouth was already
open, ready to unload the excuses—“I’ve got everything covered for the kids.”

I have no idea what the plans are, but I don’t even ask. My mind is already spinning
in a hundred different directions. What about the new gate at the top of the stairs?
Eric can never get it latched right. What about Sophie’s report that’s due Monday
or how Ben will only let me bathe him because he wants the “Splish Splash” song the
way I sing it? I can’t stop the panic from rising up, and I almost hate myself for
being so weak. Was I completely incapable of having fun away from my family?