Family Interrupted (11 page)

“What did he say?” Jack spoke quietly, holding his body still, his eyes boring into me—through me—as he waited for my reply. He made me more nervous than I already was.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because a call to Ian is rare. How many times have you called him since Kayla died?”

How many?
“Well, I don’t know....Who keeps count of phone calls?” I quickly backtracked in my memory and came up with half a dozen at most. I went on the attack. “You seem to be the conduit to him. You always beat me to the punch.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? That it’s my fault?”

“What are you talking about, Jack? I don’t tell myself anything.”

Disappointment etched his face. Sorrow. “Maybe that’s worse.” He sighed. “So, you called Ian. And what happened?”

“I had to leave a message.”

Jack checked the time. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon, but it’ll be a quick conversation. He’s out a lot in the evenings. Wednesdays and Saturdays are booked, but I don’t know about Tuesdays.”

I’d had no idea. “Overtime? Or a class? No, not a class, not on Saturday. Oh! Is he seeing someone?”

“Hopefully a hundred someones. He’s too young, not to say confused right now.”

As though Jack had been psychic, the phone rang, and Ian’s voice came through to me, an anxious voice.

“Mom? What’s wrong? Did something happen to Dad?”

“No, no, honey. We’re fine. We’re both fine.”

I heard a huge breath of air escape from the other end. “That’s good. I got scared.”

I thought about what Jack had said to me a moment ago. “But why?”

“Mom? Are you serious? You’ve called me maybe three times this whole year and always for a reason, like don’t be late for Kayla’s memorial service. What should I think?”

“Oh, Ian. I’m sorry about that. But you were on my mind today.”

“Yeah? In a good way or a bad way?”

“For goodness sake! More questions? Of course in a good way. I sketched your portrait. Dad says he’d recognize you a mile away, that you could walk right off the page. Of course, it’s only a sketch...well, with details. But I was looking through our family albums—Kayla and you and all of us—and I suddenly started to draw. It was so strange because at first I thought I was sketching Kayla, but out you came instead. It’s my first portrait in a long time, in fact, since your sister died. You were my inspiration.”

A moment of silence. “Glad I could help. Congratulations.” Then he was gone.

I looked at Jack. “He disconnected. What did I say? What did I do?”

Jack took out his mobile and called Ian’s number.

No answer.

#

IAN

I heard the cell ring from way across the living room on the floor where I’d thrown it. The damn thing hadn’t broken. For some reason, that made me laugh. Families broke easier than phones these days.

I returned my mom’s call while Colleen unpacked her stuff in the bedroom. She didn’t see or hear anything. Not that it would really matter, not with her family dysfunctional in their own way. I guess I wasn’t used to my family being such a mess, and I wanted some privacy.

My mother was losing it. Totally. Sure, I’d been on her mind. She still held me responsible for Kayla dying. No matter what she said otherwise. Her apologies sucked. She thought I was a murderer or a negligent homicider, if that’s a word.

At first, I’d hoped she called just to chat. To catch up. If she was short on topics, I could have supplied some—

How about our Houston weather? How’s work? Do you like your job? What about those Astros? How’s your life? Or I could have brought up the forbidden topic myself. “Do you want to talk about that horrible day?”

I had to accept that my mom didn’t care about anyone but Kayla. And maybe a little about Dad. But he was still swallowing those antacid pills all the time, so she couldn’t really be supporting him. Their anniversary was coming up. I wondered if they’d celebrate. Wasn’t betting on it.

CLAIRE

An hour after Jack left for the office on Saturday morning, Judy rapped at my kitchen door and walked in unannounced. I was about to start the dishwasher but forgot to press the button when I saw her. My petite sister stood straight and tall, reminding me of a fire-breathing Viking. I cocked my head, confused.

“What are you doing here? I thought your boys had soccer practice on Saturdays.”

“Charlie can take them. You come first with me today,” she replied. “You need an intervention, and I’m the one to do it. Get dressed. We’ve got an appointment with Juanita in an hour.”

I touched my hair, glanced out the back window toward my studio, then looked at Judy. “Sorry, I’m working. I-I started something new yesterday. In clay.”

“That can wait,” she said. “The clay’s not going anywhere, but you are, and I’m not kidding.” Hands on her hips, she glared at me, but I glimpsed her pained expression before she could hide it. “I swear to God,” she said, “I’ll pull you into the shower if I have to. Now, get going.”

Judy was normally a thoughtful, gentle girl, my friend as well as kid sister. Seemed she’d had a personality shift. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m not going to let you drown yourself, Claire. Jack’s afraid you’re going backwards. Ian worries too. And Mom. You see her a couple of times a week. Haven’t you noticed that she’s lost weight just like you?”

“Oh.” I hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah. Oh,” she parroted.

“But...but... I go to the office. I do my job. I make Jack happy.” But inside, I scared myself. I was afraid, afraid to tell them that sometimes my chest hurt so bad I could hardly speak. “Kayla....” My voice broke.

Judy reached up and cupped my face. Her tears pooled. “I know, Claire. We all know. And we all miss her terribly.” Stepping back, she wiped her eyes hard. “But I also know that you can’t die too. I want my sister back.”

“And I want my daughter.” A third voice.

We both swiveled toward our mother. “Was that ten minutes?” complained Judy.

“Did you really think I’d wait that long?” Barbara Anderson, in full lioness mode, zoomed in on me. This was not the person who showed up at Barnes Construction twice a week. Definitely not.“Get dressed and let’s go.”

But I didn’t want to go. I didn’t care about a stupid haircut. And I certainly didn’t like them sweeping into my house with orders. My pulse rate soared. My skin burned. “Sorry for your wasted time,” I said, crossing to the door and pulling it open. “I’ll get my hair done when I’m ready, and that’s not today. Just leave me alone.”

Judy grabbed the door right out of my hand and slammed it shut. “No. Can. Do. You’ve not been doing your best, and we don’t want you hiding away and feeling sorry for yourself.”

Sorry for myself? How dare they! Had they walked in my shoes? I couldn’t get the words out.

“You’re coming with us.” I turned toward my mother, whose no-nonsense voice echoed the sound of my girlhood memories. Barbara was still acting like my mom. I stared at the woman I knew so well and whom I resembled. I recognized her bravado, smelled her fear.

My neck swung around toward Judy, who continued to stare at me, chin up with challenge. Beyond her overt dare, however, I sensed a long-held breath waiting for release.

I couldn’t fight them both. They loved me; they didn’t blame me for what happened. How could they when I’d never told them why I was so late getting home, how Colombo had singled me out and how I’d reveled in his attention? I would have remained in the studio with him longer had I not seen the clock. I must have been developing a significant crush on the guy. The possibility made me wince and added to my sins.

If I’d left class on time that day, I would have changed history. That is a fact for which I will never forgive myself, but my family doesn’t have to suffer more than necessary.

“You win, ladies. Let’s see if Juanita can make miracles.”

#

Juanita sat me down and muttered to herself as she hefted and stroked my hair. “
Hay caramba,
Ms. Claire! I can fix the color, but the shine is gone, the weight is going. What happened? It was better last time I saw you. So now you must eat protein. Salmon, fish, dark green vegetables, beans, nuts.
Comprende?
Yes? Eat protein, protein. Eggs are very good.”

“Slow down,” said Judy, “I’m taking notes. And she will eat the right foods if I have to spoon-feed her myself. She could also cut down on the caffeine. How many cups of coffee can one person drink?”

“Exactly,” said Juanita, still mumbling about my lousy hair.

“Ahem. I’m right here,” I said, waving my fingers. “And my ears still work. I can hear you.” The entire scene suddenly struck me as absurd, and I felt my lips turn up. I almost laughed.

“She’s making a joke! How about that?” said Mom.

“I’m writing that down too. It’ll raise Jack’s spirits.”

I loved these women, these women who had my back when I could barely straighten my spine.

An hour later, I was a blonde again—with highlights. My hair was bobbing at its usual shoulder length, and I felt surprisingly good.

“Last Sunday, Ian thought Kayla wouldn’t know me anymore,” I said as we walked to Judy’s car. “But now she will.”

Judy halted her step, tipped her head back for the umpteenth time that day, and looked me square in the eye. “I know what he said about Kayla. He made the comment because she’s all you think about. But what about us, Claire? What about the living? Don’t we count anymore?”

They counted only if I didn’t allow my guilt to swallow me whole. Oh, God, why had I lingered so often in my studio when Kayla wanted to gab about her friends? About which girl liked which boy in school? Mindless chatter I’d sometimes brushed aside as unimportant....

My mom started to cry. “Claire, Claire...my heart’s broken too. Forever. Kayla was the sun and the moon and the stars to me. My only granddaughter. And now I worry that I’m losing you as well. You have to try to live again. You must live among the living.”

Her words echoed. I’d heard something similar before. Leaning against the car, I whispered, “Jack said that once. He said he couldn’t go on without both his girls.”

Judy stared at me as though I were a child. “Of course he can’t. You’ve always been his one and only. All these years. In fact, I can barely remember a time when he wasn’t part of this family. Now, get into the car.” She opened the front passenger door for me and said, “Let’s pay Jack a visit. I definitely want to see his reaction to your makeover. And then we’re going out for lunch.”

“Right,” said Mom, her finger pointing at my chest. “A relaxed lunch. You’ll eat salmon and chicken and spinach. You heard Juanita. You need protein.” The woman opened her door with vigor and got into the back seat. At seventy-one years young, my mother wouldn’t—couldn’t—be ignored.

The women in my life were acting like a couple of storm troopers, and I’d be overruled if I objected to lunching at a restaurant.

Once in the car, I pulled down my visor and grimaced in the mirror. I pulled the corners of my mouth up with my fingers.

“What the heck are you doing?” asked Judy, glancing at me.

I gave her a wolf grin. “Practicing how to smile. It’s hard.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, my God, Claire. You can still be funny.” Patting my arm, she said, “You’ll be all right, sweetie. You’re on your way now.”

Being “all right” was the end game. I knew that. The hard part was getting from here to there. And I’d been hiding, hiding behind my mother. While she dealt with the customers, I went on site visits early or late in the day, checking paint colors, the placement of furniture and accent pieces right down to the coordinated bath towels. I studied blueprints and ordered items by phone. I didn’t have to “put a smile on my face.” She did. I just had to focus on the work.

Judy pulled up in front of Barnes Construction. “I’m always impressed by how beautiful the building is. A bit different from when you started out.”

“Just like our house,” I said. “Except at home, most of the improvements are on the inside.”

We lived in the same family-friendly neighborhood we’d lived in since Ian was a baby. Jack had built the house, one of his first projects, and we’d been so happy there, we’d never considered moving. Until now. Until I’d brought it up because of Ian. But Jack hadn’t mentioned it again now that Ian was really on his own.

Mom, Judy, and I walked up the steps and opened the door. In the reception area, Jack had used a variety of materials to educate visitors. Granite counters and tabletops caught the eye; large ceramic floor tiles installed on an angle added sophistication and the illusion of extra space. In the center of the lobby was a big display showcasing miniature home models. Large easels held visuals of subdivisions under construction, which featured Barnes homes.

“He could be anywhere,” I said, taking out my cell phone.

A minute later, Jack danced into the lobby, looking like a kid on Christmas morning.

“What a treat! Wow.”

He kissed each of us, stepped back a pace, and stared at me. “You’re gorgeous, Claire-de-Lune.” His shaky hand brushed my hair, lifting a section. Then he hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe. “My wife’s back,” he whispered.

“We’re taking her out to lunch,” said Judy. “Can you join us?”

From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother’s brow rise as she gave Jack a look—one of those conspiratorial looks between people who’ve got a secret. And then I understood. He’d known about this. My husband had been part of this little
intervention
.

I could feel the fire growing inside me as I stared at my conniving family before pivoting toward Jack. If I’d been two years old, I’d have lain on the floor and kicked my heels. Instead, I had to rely on puny words.

“You sneaky…sneaky…how dare you? Don’t you ever scheme behind my back again. Twenty-three years can be undone like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “I don’t appreciate being manipulated by anyone, but especially not by you.”

Jack’s glare seared me, but before he could speak, my sister rushed in.

“Well, that’s too damn bad,” she said. “Because we’re not giving up on you. You don’t scare me, you don’t scare Mom, and you don’t scare Jack. It’s tough-love time, big sister. And that’s what you’re going to keep getting from us.