Family Interrupted (31 page)

“And you’ll come with me.”

“No promises, Mom. We’ll see, we’ll see.”

“At least that’s not a no,” Judy said.

“I’m counting on a yes. But now I’m going to the portrait exhibit. Right there on the left,” said Mom. “Let’s all go.” She set out, and we watched her disappear without waiting for us.

Judy and I looked at each other. “What’s gotten into her?” my sister asked.

“Maybe she and Dad should get out of the house more often.” Or maybe Mom was too tired after working at Barnes Construction. Seventy years young was still seventy years.

“Frankly, I think she’s happy out and working with you. The cruise was great. Did you see them all lovey-dovey—”

Our mother’s scream interrupted us, a primal cry ringing through the large hall. “That’s my granddaughter! Ooh, oh. Claire, Judy....”

We ran. Totally clueless. Mom pointed, and I looked up and saw what she saw. I looked up and saw...Kayla.
Girl with Secrets
. It hung on the wall as though it had a right to be there, with a small “not for sale” sign taped beneath.

Don’t faint
.
Be strong. Be strong
. But oh, my God, words of comfort for my mom were beyond me as I stared at Kayla. My precious Kayla, standing before me exactly as I’d remembered painting her. Beautiful to me, of course, but there was something else as well, something beneath the depiction that made it glow with heart, soul, and truth. I could see—finally— what Colombo had seen: the ephemeral quality of an adolescent girl’s coming-of-age. The wonderment within.

I heard my sister speak, loud words, soft words. I couldn’t understand much. Something about the not-for-sale sign....

“Forget the stupid sign, I’m buying it!” My mom’s declaration. “No one else would dare. Now, where is that crazy professor? What is going on here?”

A lioness. I turned my head and snapped a mental picture.
The Grandma Roars
. Later...later, maybe I’d sketch her.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” I whispered, looking at Kayla once again.

“Oh, you idiot,” said Judy. “It’s fantastic.”

Electrical charges continued to zap me, the initial jolt at seeing the portrait giving way to shock waves. I wondered if Jack had felt the same undertow when he saw the soccer portrait at our anniversary party. Had he been overwhelmed and breathless like I was at this moment?

“The two of you need to sit down,” said Judy. “And recuperate.”

“I’m fine, but Mom has a point. We just can’t help ourselves to the picture.”

My sister’s mouth tightened. “Hang on, and I’ll drag the honoree back here by his fancy lapel if I have to.”

“Way to go.” Sometimes Judy’s terrier qualities served a good purpose.

Mom couldn’t take her eyes from Kayla. Neither could I. “This one’s coming home with me,” she said. “Daddy will love it too. And no arguments.”

“You’ll get none, Mom. The big portrait’s still in Kayla’s bedroom, leaning against the wall. After Jack’s reaction, then Ian’s...” I exhaled. “I seem to make things worse, not better.”

Her hugs were just what I needed. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. Jack’s a good man—even though I want to shake him hard right now. You and Jack...I think you’re sort of slip-sliding around each other, not dancing to the same beat. You’re each walking your own paths in your own time.”

Alone.
Her observation was painful to hear. It reinforced what I’d already figured out. Instead of sticking together, we’d gone our own ways. I’d shut Jack and Ian out in order to lessen my own pain. My own guilt. They may have abandoned me, but I was the one who’d been so critical and stubborn I’d forced them out, putting us all in a position of trying to survive alone.

“I-I think Jack and I—and Ian too—had better work it out together and quickly, or...or it won’t matter anymore.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sure you’re wrong.”

“He’s been at the hotel for eight weeks, Mom. With no indication of coming home.”

“So join him there. Show him what he’s missing.”

I patted her arm. Sex games weren’t the answer. “He wants me to be the woman I was before Kayla died. But that’s impossible. Inside, I’m not the same.”

On the other hand, some of the real me had to be around. I certainly wasn’t still hiding in the house. I worked, painted, volunteered, jogged, cooked, loved. But it wasn’t enough. I wanted my family back! Jack and Ian and little Tina. And Kayla, in our hearts. Her joyous spirit cheering us on.

I’d messed us all up, so I had to fix us. I had to take the lead in healing my family. In healing myself. In getting rid of the guilt and pain. I wanted to be whole again.

“More later, darling. Here comes your outrageous professor.”

“Good grief. He’s got an entourage with him.”

“Clara, Clara, Clara. You have found me out. Discovered my secret, no?” The guy beamed like a little boy who’d discovered the last cookie in the jar. He turned to the group and thrust his arm toward
Girl with Secrets.

“Magnificent, yes? And this is the artist, Signora Clara Barnes, from this very city. The best student of all. But then tragedy strikes, and Clara disappears. Not another class did she take. But this...this beautiful work I kept for her, hoping for her return.”

An artist and a storyteller. “I think we should set the record straight, Professor. In real life, I’m a hands-on decorator. I furnish homes, design window treatments—”

“And is that not art, Clara? You select the color...just so, just right, and the proportions for each piece, and most important, the light! The sun. You must know where it rises and sets. Where is it each hour? All the elements must be considered because, Clara, every room is a canvas. Do you not see that? You have been an artist all your life, and now, you are branching out.
Brava, brava!
”

Yes, he had an audience, a cadre of followers, but I didn’t care. I kissed him. And watched him blush. A unique happening. “
Grazie, Signor.
I needed to hear that.”

“Well, your plot worked in the end, Professor,” said Judy, stepping forward. “She wanted to attend your send-off tonight. But I’m telling you right now that the picture up there is going home with us. So, how much?”

I interrupted. “Thirty-eight hundred, wasn’t it?”

He turned toward my mother. “Mama Mia! These two daughters of yours...? It’s a miracle you survived!”

Mom’s eyes glowed hot. The lioness had returned. “Didn’t need a miracle, Professor. My girls are perfect just the way they are.”

“But of course, of course. I would not say no.”

Mom smiled. “In fact, you’d say yes. I’m glad you recognized Claire’s talent, Professor, and the woman behind it. Thank you for saving the picture. You took a financial risk, and I’m happy to repay you. You did the right thing.” She thrust her check into his hands.

His skin turned from olive to ruddy to red; he’d been embarrassed twice in one night. My mother could still shake things up.

“I’ll be ready to try again soon.” To spare him from further discomfort, I hesitated giving him a quick hug. But he had no compunction about his good-byes, and I found myself being kissed first on one cheek and then on the other.

“There’s only one thing left to do,” said my mother.

“And what’s that, Signora?”

“Put a SOLD sign on it.”

A perfect ending to the evening.
Girl with Secrets
would have a loving home, but it wouldn’t be mine. I wanted to see Jack. More than want, I needed to see him. But I couldn’t and wouldn’t jolt him with any more surprises.

#

At midnight, I moved the soccer painting out of Kayla’s bedroom and into the studio. I’d dropped Mom and Judy off at their homes, watched my dad tear up when he saw
Girl with Secrets
, and then made my way back to Bluebonnet Drive. Despite the emotional evening, I wasn’t tired. My thoughts were spinning. If I wanted my family back, I had to come clean with them, but first, I had to come clean with myself. And that meant talking to Kayla—which was not a problem.

I’d kept her alive in my mind, heart, and on canvas. I’d kept my dreams alive of watching her grow up and share her life. But I knew now that my dreams for Kayla had come at a price. Not only the loss of Jack and Ian but the guilt that rode on my shoulders, the constant irritant that wouldn’t let me heal. If I gave up my guilt, it would be easier to let Kayla go. And I couldn’t do that.

But was I truly responsible for Kayla’s death?

No.

I removed the drape from the canvas and looked again at my daughter exulting in victory. No false modesty if I said I’d done well. And I did say it, finally. I pulled over a chair and sat in front of my daughter.

“In my heart, in my thoughts, you are so full of life, Kayla, and yet you’ll never grow up to be the woman you should have become. By now, we would have argued about texting. Or tweeting. But we would have been laughing, too. I miss you dreadfully. But I can’t go on this way.

“It wasn’t your fault that you ran into the street; it wasn’t your brother’s fault that he played ball with you; it wasn’t the driver’s fault that she happened to be there; and it wasn’t even my fault. Not really. Had I arrived home five minutes sooner, you and Ian might have still thrown a ball while I went inside the house for a moment. Who knows? Ian was right about randomness. But oh, how I hate that it happened. So unfair to you.

“All I know, darling, is that I can’t bring you back, and I can’t ruin Dad’s and Ian’s lives anymore. The only direction for me to go is forward, Kayla. And I’m so very, very sorry.”

And that’s when I broke down. That’s when the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. And that’s when I heard Jack’s voice calling my name from outside. No hallucination. He stood in the doorway, focused on me.

“Your mother phoned and demanded I come over. Since I don’t mess around with Barbara, here I am. What are you doing?”

I looked up at him, smiling through my tears, mascara probably all over my face. “I’m making peace with our daughter. I’m searching for hope.”

He glanced at the painting, his love and longing as clearly written as a poem. I heard his deep exhalation before he met my eyes. “And?”

I stood and approached him. “And you’re next on my list. Right here. Right now.”

“Peace? Hope? You must have had quite an evening at the big shot’s party.” He sounded suspicious.

“You can judge for yourself.” I took his hands and pulled him toward a chair. “Sit, please.”

My heart beat like a bass drum. I wanted that new beginning with Jack, the one I’d gone after the night of the anniversary party. I was ready to open up to him. To talk! And I hoped Jack would listen and believe me. I refused to consider the alternative.

I plunged in. “Judy and Mom went with me to the champagne reception for Professor Colombo earlier tonight. That big shot you just mentioned.” I described the scene, the people, the gallery exhibition, and my mom’s excitement at being part of it.

“Do you remember me calling you in tears a couple of months after Kayla died with the news that Colombo sold my painting without permission?”

He nodded slowly. “I was willing to get our lawyer involved.”

“Good, you do remember. Here’s the point. Tonight, we were browsing the displays at the
galleria
when Mom decided to go off on her own.” The memory of what happened next had me perspiring and made my legs feel weak. I pulled a chair over and sat down across from Jack.

“Suddenly, Judy and I heard her scream.” I leaned toward Jack and grabbed his hand. “In the middle of this fancy gala reception, we heard my mother shouting, ‘That’s my granddaughter.’ And her voice echoed throughout the entire place. Everybody heard. Everybody looked.”

My fingers ached from gripping him so hard. “I ran to her, and when I got there, I understood everything. As if a wave of light passed through me, the secrets of the world. I saw what she saw, and I screamed too. Looking at Kayla, at
Girl with Secrets,
I wanted to howl. My world tilted and went awry. What was real and what wasn’t?

“Jack, Jack...This is one of the things I need to tell you. I now understand how you felt that night of our anniversary party. I really get it. Back then, I was only thinking about myself and how the painting made me feel better. I’d assumed the same for you. I was wrong, Jack, and I’m so sorry. So very sorry.”

Silence. I watched his Adam’s apple move up and down a couple of times. My grip loosened, but I continued holding his hand. He coughed, a clearing-the-throat type of cough.

“Thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m not finished yet.”

“It’s enough for me. Validation is everything.”

I stood, held up my hand. “Wait. There’s more. Tonight I’m putting everything on the line. I know I’m taking a chance, but it’s better than being in limbo. I don’t want us to be the only couple in the support group whose husband and wife don’t support each other.”

Jack leaned forward in his chair, head cocked, eyelids slightly closed. “What do you want?” he asked softly.

“Everything. I want everything, but I can’t have
anything
until I confess all my
mea culpas
.”

“Oh, please, Claire.”

When he seemed about to stand up, I placed my hand on his shoulder and pressed. Like trying to move a boulder. “No, sit and listen for a minute, like you used to.” I’m sure he complied out of courtesy rather than curiosity. It was good enough for me. I took a breath.

“I’ve been blaming everybody else for Kayla’s death. Certainly Sarah Levine, and the cop who stopped me, then poor Ian. But all the time, I really believed the accident was my fault. You didn’t think it made sense to blame myself when I wasn’t even on the scene, but you didn’t know everything that happened beforehand.”

I started to pace then stopped myself. Jack deserved to see me straight on, eye-to-eye. Nothing to hide.

“With Colombo on that day in class...I felt like a teenager. He loved my work—his compliments overflowed—and I thought maybe it was more. The other students gathered round also; their awe of my work kind of surprised me. But Colombo held my attention, and I stayed late, not because I was actually painting, but because we were having a-a repartee. A flirtation. And I was flattered at his interest. I ate it up like I was a starving child.