Things I Want to Say (25 page)

“I guess it is.” She had to admit, she didn’t feel so alone now. She could count on her youngest son to be there to support her when no one else would.

The nurse’s aide had just left the next afternoon when Del paid a visit. With him was a young, beautiful girl dressed in low-cut jeans and a tight T-shirt. She had a ring in her navel and another in her left eyebrow, and she made Karen think of the women in magazine ads for designer jeans or exotic perfume—the ones who always looked as if they had either just gone to bed with a man, or were about to.

“Karen, this is Mary Elisabeth.”

Mary Elisabeth offered a hand with a ring on each finger. “It’s good to meet you. I think it’s really great of you to come down here and look after your daddy this way.” She had a
Texas drawl that would melt butter, and a handshake as firm as any man’s.

Was it possible Del had been singing his sister’s praises? She looked over at him. He had his head in the refrigerator, probably searching for another beer. She turned to Mary Elisabeth again. The Catholic schoolgirl name seemed incongruous on the young woman before her. “Thanks.”

“If you ever need any help, or just want to take a break or something, give me a call,” she said. “I get along great with older folks.”

“You do?” Karen looked at Del again. She’d been sure he was blowing smoke when he’d offered Mary Elisabeth’s services. “Why is that, do you think?”

“Oh, I’m a good listener, and I don’t get impatient with them like some people. I used to work at a nursing home, so I’ve seen pretty much everything related to gettin’ old that there is to see.”

“Where do you work now?” Karen pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and offered it to the younger woman, then sat across from her.

“I work for the city water department. It’s not as interesting as the nursing home, but it pays better. But sometimes I think I’d like to go back to school to be a nurse.”

“Interesting.” How had this seemingly bright, ambitious young woman ever ended up with Del? She was about to ask as much when Casey emerged from the back bedroom, where he’d been taking a nap.

He cut his eyes to Mary Elisabeth and they widened a little, then he looked at Del. “Hey, Uncle Del.” He went over to his uncle and gave him a hug.

“Casey, you brat.” Del returned the hug, grinning. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I came down to help Mom. Hey look, I’m as tall as you now.” He held his hand over Del’s head, showing the tops of their heads were even.

“So what? I can still whip your ass.” Del faked a punch.

Casey dodged away, laughing.

“Del, honey, aren’t you going to introduce me to your good-looking young friend?” Mary Elisabeth turned a dazzling smile on Casey, who instantly blushed to the tips of his ears.

“This is my nephew, Casey. He’s sixteen. Way too young for you.”

“Some people think you’re too old for me.” She winked at Casey, who laughed again.

“I thought maybe Mary Elisabeth could meet Dad, see how they get along,” Del said.

“He’s napping right now,” Karen said. “He usually takes a nap about this time every day.”

“That’s all right. I’ll see him some other time,” Mary Elisabeth said. “I have to get to work now. But it was nice to meet you.” She smiled at each of them in turn, gave Del a peck on the cheek and sailed out the door.

They were all silent a moment, as if she’d taken some of the air out of the room with her departure.

“Uncle Del, she’s
hot,
” Casey pronounced.

Del laughed. “Stick with me, boy. I can teach you a thing or two about how to handle women.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Karen stood and went to the sink, where she busied herself washing up the breakfast dishes. The thought of her playboy brother teaching her son anything sent shivers up her spine. “She seems very nice. Very bright. How did she ever end up with you?”

“Obviously, she has excellent taste.”

Karen snorted.

“That was really cool of her to offer to help you with Grandpa,” Casey said.

“Yes, it was very nice.” But why would a total stranger offer to do something so nice? She turned to Del. “She’s
not some gold digger out to talk Dad out of his money, is she?”

“You watch too many soap operas.” He tossed his now-empty beer can into the garbage. “Mary Elisabeth is just a nice person who likes to help other people. There are still folks like that left in this world, you know?”

“Yeah, I met one of them on my way down here,” Casey said. “He ran this restaurant near the bus station and he let me have a burger and fries in exchange for sweeping up for him.”

“You didn’t have any money with you?” Karen stared at her son.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the kitchen. “Well, I had some when I started out, but I sort of lost it.”

“You lost it?” She sagged against the counter. Tom was right. The boy was completely irresponsible.

“It was stolen, actually.” Casey shrugged.

“Stolen?” She stared at him.

“Yeah, well, this ex-con sat next to me, see, and I couldn’t move because there weren’t any more empty seats and—”

She put her hand over her eyes and waved away the rest of his explanation. “I don’t think I want to hear any more.”

Casey came over and put his arm around her. “It’s okay, Mom. everything worked out.”

“That’s right, sis,” Del said. “You worry too much.”

The rest of the world might be crazy, but she was the one with a problem, because she worried too much. “It’s the worriers in this world who get things done,” she said. “People who bother to think about problems figure out how to solve them. Not to mention, we’re the ones who look after all you ‘free’ spirits.”

“Maybe so, but I know who’s having more fun, don’t you, Casey?” Del winked at his nephew.

Casey laughed. “Maybe it’s a chick thing.” He hugged
Karen again. “Stick with us and we’ll teach you to lighten up. And you never know. Some of your responsibility might rub off on us.”

She sighed. “I hear pigs might fly, too.”

Casey laughed again, and she managed a smile. Life was absurd sometimes. And this particular corner of Tipton, Texas, had always been the touchstone for most of the absurdities visited upon her. She’d be glad when she could get back to her ordinary life, where she was mostly in control and usually knew in advance how things would turn out. Unlike Casey, Karen wasn’t a big fan of surprises.

In his dreams each night, Martin strode through the jungles of the Amazon, or across the plains of the midwest, or along the shores of tropical beaches. Everywhere birds came to him, darting and wheeling about, the flutter of their wings and the lilt of their songs the soundtrack for his slumber. Ruby-throated Hummingbirds hovered before him like feathered jewels, and Black-necked Stilts stitched lines of tracks in the sand at his feet. He watched them with a lightness in his heart, as if at any moment he, too, might sprout wings and learn to soar with their grace.

He would wake buoyed by this excitement and anticipation, brought back to earth with a thud by the limitations of his body. The determination that had once enabled him to scale the peaks of the Andes or trek for days across waterless deserts, or endure all manner of hardships in the pursuit of birds for his list now could not will so much as a finger on his left hand to move or words to form on his tongue.

He silently railed at the injustice of being imprisoned by the frailty of his own flesh. His frustration exploded from him with the least provocation. He banged his wheelchair
into walls and furniture, not caring what he destroyed. He swept the lunch tray from his desk, dishes shattering, when a slice of ham wasn’t chopped fine enough to keep from choking him. He balked at being shaved or having his hair cut until the aide calmly pointed out that only a fool argued with a woman who held a razor to his throat.

And always there was Karen, watching him with such intensity, alternately cajoling and critical. “Dad, you have to eat more.” “Dad, you aren’t trying.” “Dad, come away from that computer. You need your rest.”

How did she know what he needed? She hardly knew him. She thought his pursuit of birds all over the world was a waste of time. Oh, she never said as much, but the shuttered expression she assumed whenever the topic of birding came up told him everything he needed to know. She didn’t understand that peace could come in focusing on a part of nature so different from himself. She didn’t know that beyond the pleasure of accumulating numbers and amassing records, there were the birds themselves, so diverse and diverting. They offered beauty without judgment. They demanded nothing from him.

Karen had been back in Texas about two weeks and was beginning to settle into a routine when Del showed up on her doorstep with a dog. “Look what I got for you, sis,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy who’s just handed his teacher an apple with a worm in it.

She eyed the dog warily. The oversize yellow mutt had floppy ears, legs that looked too long for its body and feet the size of Mason jar lids. It grinned up at her, tongue lolling, reminding her of Pluto from the Disney cartoons of her childhood. “What did you bring me?” she asked warily.

“I brought you a dog. Isn’t she great?” He patted the dog’s side. The animal responded by flopping over onto her back, tail whipping wildly back and forth, all four feet flailing in
the air. A flea crawled across the dirty white fur on the dog’s stomach.

Karen took a step back. “I don’t want a dog,” she said. “I especially don’t want an overgrown, flea-bit ten mutt.”

“Aw now, don’t be like that.” Del shoved past her into the house. The dog followed, toenails clicking on the hardwood floor.

“No!” Karen rushed after them. “Get that beast out of here. I don’t want it.”

“You need a dog, sis.” Del helped himself to a Coke from the refrigerator. The dog followed, eyes fixed on him adoringly. “She’ll keep you company.”

“I don’t need company. And I don’t need anything else to look after.”

“Living with a dog will teach you to lighten up.” As if on cue, the mutt rolled on her back again, and looked at Karen, as if waiting for some sign of approval.

Del bent and rubbed the dog’s belly. “How serious can you be around this?” he asked.

She was seriously considering slapping her brother, to try to knock some sense into him. Or at least force him to listen to her. “No, Del. I mean it. Get that beast out of here.”

“Hey, where’d you get the dog?” Casey ambled into the kitchen and grinned at the mutt, still on her back in the middle of the floor. He dropped to his knees beside her and began rubbing her belly. “She’s a real sweetie, isn’t she? Is she yours, Uncle Del?”

“I got her for your mom.”

“Really?” Casey’s smile grew even wider and he looked back at Karen. “She’s great!”

Karen hugged her arms across her chest and frowned down at Casey and the dog, who were now rolling around together on the floor. When the boys were six and nine, they had launched a campaign for the family to adopt a dog. Tom had been willing to go along with the idea, but Karen had put
her foot down, pointing out that if she’d wanted something else to look after, she’d have had another child. The boys and Tom had been wise enough not to press the point.

“No. No dog,” she repeated.

Casey’s smile crumpled. Crouched on the floor beside the animal, he looked closer to the little boy she remembered than the man he was fast becoming. The image tugged at her heart. “But, Mom, why not?”

“Dogs are dirty. They’re noisy. They shed. They’re destructive. And they need a lot of attention and time I don’t have.”

“I’ll give it attention.” Casey sat back on his heels. “Besides, how do you know all that stuff if you’ve never had a dog?”

“I’ve known other people who had dogs. A dog is just one more thing for me to look after, and I already have too much to do around here.” Between nursing her father and taking care of the house she was stressed to the max already. Not to mention, adding a dog would be one more change in a summer that had brought too many changes to her life already.

“I’ll look after her. I promise.” Casey threw his arms around the dog and hugged her close. “She won’t be that much trouble.”

Karen had the feeling things were fast slipping out of her control. She shook her head again. “No.”

Casey pretended not to hear her. “Hey, we could maybe train her to help Grandpa. You know, one of those assistance dogs.”

The dog seemed intent now on licking the skin off Casey’s face. Karen had her doubts this mutt could be trained for anything. “No, I don’t want it.” She turned to Del. “Get it out of here.”

He took a long sip of Coke, then set the can on the counter. “Guess I’ll just have to shoot it, then,” he said.

“Shoot it?” The outrageousness of the statement left her stammering. “Why…why would you do that?”

“If I take her to the animal shelter, they’ll just put her down, plus they’ll ask for a ‘donation’ to do it. A big dog like this is hard to find a home for. A bullet’s cheaper.”

“Mom, no!” Casey still clung to the dog. The animal herself turned to Karen, eyes the color of chocolate M&M’s filled with sadness. Karen couldn’t stand it. Why was everyone making her out to be the villain, when it was Del who’d gotten them into this mess?

She turned to her brother. “Do you even have a conscience? How could you try to foist this dog—that I don’t want—off on me, and then threaten to kill her if I don’t take her?”

His expression was guileless. “I thought you and Casey, and Dad, too, for that matter, would
enjoy
having a dog around. I saw it as a nice thing to do for you. You’re the one trying to make it something bad.”

He had had this talent all his life, the knack for twisting words to throw the blame back on someone else. The talent had enabled him to talk his way out of failing grades, traffic tickets, job layoffs and relationship troubles more times than Karen could count. She hated it, but at the same time, she couldn’t help but marvel.

Casey rose and stood at her side. “I think Uncle Del had a good idea, bringing us this dog,” he said. “This has been kind of a lousy summer for us so far, what with Grandpa being sick and all. A dog like this could give us something to laugh at.”

God knew she could use a few laughs. Only she didn’t see how a big dirty mutt was going to provide them. She looked down at the dog, who was on her back again, both paws over her nose as if she was hiding her face. It was a ridiculous pose, and Karen felt herself weakening. She still didn’t want the animal. She hated being manipulated this way. But she
wasn’t hardhearted enough to sentence the pup to death, or to risk alienating her son further, at a time when she needed at least one member of her family on her side. She blew out a breath. “All right. She can stay for a little while. But if she causes any trouble, out she goes.”

“That’s super, Mom.” Casey’s hug squeezed all the air from her lungs. “I promise I’ll help look after her. Come on, girl.” He motioned to the dog. “Let’s go outside and look around. And we have to think of a good name for you.”

The dog trotted after him, tail waving. When Del and Karen were alone again, he turned to her. “I need to talk to Dad. Is he awake?”

“He’s on the front porch.” Martin liked to sit out there in the afternoons, alternately napping and scanning the area for birds. “Why do you want to see him?” As far as she could remember, Del hadn’t spent a single minute alone with his father since Martin’s stroke.

Del arched one eyebrow. “I have to have a reason?”

“No.” Though she had no doubt he was up to something. She led him to the porch, half hoping Martin would be a sleep. But he looked up as they approached.

“Hey, Dad. How you doing?” Del loomed over his father, his broad shoulders and air of radiant health in sharp contrast to his shriveled, pale sire. Still, Del was the one who looked awkward, head bent, hands clasped in front of him, posture slightly slumped, like a boy awaiting reprimand.

He glanced at Karen. “I need to talk to Dad
alone,
” he said.

Translation:
I’m going to ask for something, or propose some scheme that you won’t approve of.
She debated staying where she was, ready to defend her father against Del’s manipulations.

Martin made a shooing motion with his hand, and grunted, waving her away. Hurt, but determined not to show it, she
turned on her heel and fled to the kitchen. Why did she even bother resisting? Del always got his way.

The thought made her feel childish, and she struggled to regain an adult perspective. Del had aright to talk to his father in private. The stroke had left her father physically weak, but mentally he was as strong as ever. It was none of her business what Del did with his life. If she let him manipulate her, it was her own fault for giving in.

The thought rankled. Who wouldn’t be annoyed at being manipulated? Why should she take the blame for Del’s bad behavior? Maybe that was part of the problem between them—she was too willing to let him get away with being “just Del,” too ready to think her own attitude was the one that needed adjusting.

She sagged against the counter, heart pounding. What would happen if she stopped letting the men in her life get away with unacceptable behavior? The idea was tantalizing, and more than a little frightening. Did she really have what it took to be more demanding and less accepting?

“So, you’re looking pretty good,” Del said when he and Martin were alone.

Martin frowned at the lie, and watched his son, enjoying his discomfort. Del stood awkwardly in front of the wheelchair, as if he was contemplating hugging his father or perhaps shaking his hand.

Martin had no delusions that Del had stopped by out of some concern for Martin’s health. The boy never made any pretense of closeness unless he wanted something—to park his trailer on part of the land Martin owned, his father’s signature on loan papers for his business, to borrow a car or a tool or money.

Theirs was a relationship of give and take. Martin gave; Del took. They both understood this and were comfortable in their roles.

Del dragged a heavy Adirondack chair over in front of his father and sat, hands on his knees, back straight. “Karen says you still can’t talk much.”

He couldn’t talk at all, which might be an advantage in this instance. He shook his head no.

“Well, I guess you don’t need to wear yourself out talking. You can just nod your head and we’ll communicate fine.” Del’s shoulders relaxed a little, as if he liked this idea. “I wanted to ask you a favor,” he said.

Martin nodded. Did he know the boy, or what?

“You know Sheila and I split up?”

He nodded again. Del’s third wife had surprised him by staying around as long as she had. On Martin’s visits home between birding expeditions, he couldn’t fail to hear the fireworks from next door: the shouting, tears and slamming doors. Sheila could swear like a sailor, and had once fired a shotgun over Del’s head as he and his girlfriend of the moment raced from the trailer one evening when Sheila had arrived home unexpectedly. Martin himself had paid to bail her out of jail that time, and advised her that a load of rock salt and a lower aim might do more good next time.

She had been the best of the Mrs. Del Engels, regularly bringing over casseroles and leftovers, keeping the bird feeders filled when he was out of town, collecting the mail and even mowing the grass Del let grow long. When she hadn’t shown up to help since his stroke, Martin had figured Sheila had finally had enough of Del’s flirtations and affairs and packed it in. He couldn’t blame her, though he would have liked the chance to tell her goodbye.

“Anyway, she’s hired some big-shot lawyer and is trying to get pretty much everything I own.”

Half of little or nothing hardly seems worth fighting for,
Martin thought, doing a mental inventory; the trailer house wasn’t worth much, the oil change business was mortgaged to the
hilt and, as far as he knew, Del had never had any savings to speak of.

“I told her I couldn’t afford to pay what she wanted. She had the nerve to suggest I sell the truck and the motorcycle to get the money.”

Martin chuckled. Heaven forbid Del part with his expensive toys.

“You okay?” Del half rose out of his chair and looked around, possibly for help. “You’re not choking or anything, are you? Do I need to get Karen?”

He shook his head and waved the boy back into his seat, then motioned for him to continue.

Del sat, still eyeing him warily. “Anyway, I hired a lawyer who says he can work this so I don’t end up in the poorhouse, except he wants five thousand dollars up front. I just don’t have that kind of money.”