Authors: Patti Hill
Seeing Things (19 page)
Chapter 19
Andy huffed, an echo of years gone by. “I don't have time for pie this morning.”
“It's rhubarb and strawberry, your favorite,” I cooed.
He paused. “Is this about Fletcher and Suzanne?”
I gave up on corralling my anger. “The boy protected Bee, and he did so in the safest, most respectful manner possible, given Suzanne's irrational anger.”
He snapped his briefcase closed. “This is an extremely tough time for Suzanne. You need to cut her some slack.”
I lowered my voice, scooted closer. “She pounded Fletcher's chest with her fists and slapped him.”
Andy tucked the briefcase under his arm and turned. “I'll talk to her, I promise.”
I followed. “Is there anything I need to know?”
He stopped, lowered his head and put a hand on the doorjamb. “We're both under a lot of pressure. We'll sit down with him and get this straightened out.” He turned to face me. His shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry I can't stop for pie, Ma. I have a breakfast meeting I still need to prepare for.”
“How will Fletcher get to school?”
“I've made arrangements with my secretary.”
“Can I pray for you, son?”
“I'm already late. Maybe later.” And he was gone.
Later
schmater.
I leaned against the door, listened to the garage door grind open and closed. “I'm loading the whole Wainwright family onto the mat, Lord. By your strength, I lower them into your presence. Could you whistle a happy tune to get their attention? Part the traffic on I-25 like the Red Sea? Better yet, offer them an espresso, a grande something or other from one of the bistros in LoDo. If they could just see the love in your eyes. Is that too much to ask?”
schmater.
I leaned against the door, listened to the garage door grind open and closed. “I'm loading the whole Wainwright family onto the mat, Lord. By your strength, I lower them into your presence. Could you whistle a happy tune to get their attention? Part the traffic on I-25 like the Red Sea? Better yet, offer them an espresso, a grande something or other from one of the bistros in LoDo. If they could just see the love in your eyes. Is that too much to ask?”
Chapter 20
Fletcher sat next to me on a park bench across from Mi Sun's house.
“She won't be here today. She has an orthodontist appointment.”
“Mi Sun has a beautiful smile.”
“She wears the invisible kind.”
“I had no idea.” Diane had hated me for putting her in braces, claimed I ruined her life. All I remembered was wishing I'd kept her in braces through college. Her life needed ruining those seven years.
Huck lay in the grass with Bee, stroking her belly and grinning like a boy who had found the key to the candy store. Seeing him there, without a care to shackle his thoughts, I blurted, “Fletcher, something wondrous has happened to me.”
“Huh?”
“How are you at keeping secrets?”
“Pretty good, I guess.”
“Well, I need you to promise not to tell a soul what I'm going to tell you.”
“You aren't in love with some old guy, are you?”
“Something much better. Bigger. Much more mysterious. Even magical.”
“You won the lottery?”
“Better than winning the lottery.”
Huck sat up, narrowed his gaze at me.
Fletcher shifted in his seat. “Are you sure I'm the one to tell?”
“There's no one else. This will do you good.”
He surrendered to the inevitable by leaning back and stretching his legs. “Shoot.”
I patted his leg. “Not good for you like a vitamin or reading some tiresome textbook. Good for you like discovering a portal to the fifth dimension or a wormhole to another time and place.” I smiled. “I watch the Sci-Fi channel too.”
“Grandma, the chances of aliens living in our galaxy or universe are nearly nil . . . or less than nil. If you're seeing aliensâ”
“I'm not sure what I'm seeing, but that's what's so fascinating.”
Huck rose to a knee and leaned forward.
“I'll leave it up to you. I'm content keeping my secret. I'll wait for you to decide if you want in or not.” I rose.
Fletcher grabbed my wrist. “I want to know, Grandma. I really want to know.”
I skipped the part about the mountainside on the staircase and the purple flowers popping up in unlikely placesâpretty boring stuff for a young man. I told him instead about Huck's coming after I'd awakened with heartburn, how he'd winked at me before he left.
“He winked? Did he come back?”
“Oh yes, several times. I enjoy his visits very much, although he never shows up when I want him to. You know what kind of boy that Huck isâmore feral than tame. That he's interested in the likes of me is the best part of the mystery.”
“Cool.”
“There's more.” I told him about Huck mimicking Suzanne and his fascination with Bee.
“Does that mean I'm off the hook walking the dog?”
“He just pets her.”
Huck stepped closer, cocked his head. Had I said too much? Broken some kind of cosmic rule? Would speaking about our visits drive Huck from my life? He said, “The boy's in a sweat to find out all about me. I reckon a body that ups and tells the truth when he is in a tight place is taking considerable many risks, though I ain't had no experience and can't say for certain.”
“Then it's okay to tell him?” I asked.
“The boy is mild as goose milk. He won't be no trouble.”
Fletcher's voice broke. “Is he here, Grandma? Is he here, now?”
Huck sashayed, kicked up his heels, and bowed deeply. He stood only a few feet away, with hands on hips and one foot crossed over the other.
“You mustn't be afraid, Fletcher. Huck is a good-hearted fellow.” I pointed to the place in the grass where Huck stood. “He's right there.”
Fletcher jumped up to stand behind the bench. “What do the two of you talk about?”
Huck rolled on the grass guffawing at Fletcher. I shot him a stern look that sobered him up quick.
“He's like any boy,” I said. “It took him a long while to open up. We talked about Buck's death the other night.”
Fletcher eased around the bench to sit next to me. “Why can't I see him?”
“I wish I knew, but I thought you might like to hear about our adventures.”
“Your secret's safe with me.”
Chapter 21
I dreamed I walked down a long corridor lined with doors, each one a different color and shape. A woman's wails compelled me to pound on each door and jiggle the doorknob. Door after door resisted my efforts, and the wailing grew louder. I doubled my efforts. I rubbed my knuckles and knocked harder at the doors. Then I came to a red door with a tiny window just above my head. I was certain the cries came from within. I jerked the knob. Locked. And this is the annoying thing about dreams: Each one repeats a thousand times, like the brain is practicing how to solve a confounding problem from its wakeful time, so when I raised my fist to knock on the door, I already knew my efforts were useless, but I knocked anyway. When no one answered, I kicked the door. Still no answer, only the heaving sobs of the woman. I stood on tiptoes to look through the window. A lone candle burned inside to illuminate a woman, her face draped by her dark hair. From deep within her soul, a grievous moan pierced my heart.
I sat bolt up in bed, blinking in the darkness. Outside the bedroom door, the weeping continued. Suzanne? Light seeped into the room from under the door.
“This was only our first try with this procedure.” Andy shushed her. “You'll wake the house.”
“I don't care.”
I lay back down and closed my eyes. This wasn't a conversation for my ears.
Andy said, “We have two more cycles for success. We're far from defeated. If this doesn't work, there's still in vitro. Baby. Sweetie. We'll try again.”
“Why is this so hard? I get it. I mean, I understand what's going on, but I'm a mess. Heather brought her baby to the office yesterday. I almost said something. Oh God, I'm so glad I didn't. I don't know how much more of this I can take. The waiting, the disappointment.” More crying, only muffled this time. I pictured Andy holding Suzanne's head to his shoulder, and the image comforted me.
Heels tapped on the kitchen floor. “I have to shake this off. I have patients to see in twenty minutes.” The tapping stopped. “Oh, my eyes! I look like I've been on a bender.”
“Sit down. A cool cloth will help.”
Their voices softened. I rose to my elbows to listen.
Suzanne said, “My mother keeps asking about a grandbaby. I never should have told her.”
“You were excited. Don't blame yourself.”
“I waited too long, that's the problem. I thought I had forever. Residency. Chief surgeon. A practice. I'd trade it all for a baby. The woman I beat out for the residency at Women's Hospital? She has three kids. How could I have been so stupid?”
“Hey, you had responsibilities, obligations. You can't blame yourself.”
“Oh no? Watch me.”
“Suzanne, stop. I won't let you drive like this.”
They were quiet again. Rock her, Andy.
“I have an idea,” Andy said. “I'll see if the Vail house is available in a couple weeks. Fletcher can stay here with my mother. We'll get a fire going, play some jazz. We'll order in from Chez Marilyn. We'll be relaxed. No cell phones. No beepers. We'll put a do-not-disturb sign on the door. The doc said to minimize stress. How about it?”
When Suzanne spoke again, her voice was throaty but pliable. “Sounds good.”
“I'll arrange everything. Nothing will interfere, I promise.”
For goodness' sake, Andy, this is no time to bring up past mistakes.
“You've said that before.”
See?
“This will be different.”
Tell her.
“Forget about the Vail house. We'll go someplace else, where no one knows how to get hold of us. You can't tell your mother either.”
That's better.
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