Sunset Over Misty Lake

by Margaret Standafer

  “Clearly,” Joe echoed. “I’ll get his jacket, seems like it could start raining any time.”

  “Maybe snow tonight, at least that’s what I heard on the radio.”

  “Smells like snow out there.”

  “It’s nearly May, Joe. What you’re smelling isn’t snow, it’s anger with a hint of despair.”

  “Also known as spring in Northern Minnesota,” Joe finished their long-standing joke. When Karen laughed, his heart nearly burst.

  Joe dragged Dylan inside twenty minutes later, dripping wet and laughing like a hyena. His soaked, muddy shoes left splotches on the floor as he jumped up and down. Splatters reached the washing machine and the wall of the mudroom.

  “Hey, buddy! Enough of that. Puddle jumping is an outside game, not an inside game.” Once he’d peeled the wet things off his son, Joe grabbed a rag, then handed Dylan one.

  “You make the mess, you clean it up.”

  “Keen up, keen up,” Dylan sang as he mimicked Joe, swiping at the floor with his rag. Dylan grunted and turned in circles, stretching to reach into every corner of the small room. While his efforts didn’t do much but move the mud from one spot to another, it wasn’t for lack of trying.

  “Good job, bud,” Joe said as he followed behind and cleaned up Dylan’s cleaning. “Go tell Mommy about the puddles.”

  Dylan happily changed gears, dropping his rag and darting into the living room at a speed justifying the superman underwear he currently sported.

  When Joe caught up, after mopping up the mud and starting a load of laundry, he found Dylan still bouncing, still shouting. The only thing that had changed was the subject.

  “Peppy, Mommy, peppy, peppy!”

  Karen’s eyes rolled and searched the ceiling.

  “Since I heard some of that outside, in between the shouts about rain and worms, I’m guessing it’s not a new topic.”

  “Hardly. He’ll stop for a while, but he circles back with alarming frequency. I thought he’d be over it by now.”

  Joe retrieved Dylan’s stuffed dog from the toy box. “Here you go, here’s the puppy. Here’s Corky.”

  “No, Daddy. Peppy!”

  Karen lifted a shoulder. “Believe me, I tried Corky. He wasn’t having it.”

  “It seems everywhere we go, there’s a dog. He’s already in love with all of them, now Mom and Dad are going to have one, for a while anyway, and it’s a stinking cute puppy. It’s probably to be expected that he’s hung up on all things dog.”

  “We read Go, Dog, Go!, we read a couple Spot books, we even watched a Spot video. I thought that might get it out of his system, but it may have backfired. All he wants to talk about is…” Karen peeked at Dylan who was, for the moment, distracted with dangling a toy over Evan, then whispered, “Papa’s puppy. Although it’s always ‘Papa peppy.’ It’s practically a tongue twister, the way he repeats it over and over.”

  “It sounds like it will be a couple of weeks yet until the pup is ready to be separated from the litter. Maybe he’ll be adopted by then and Mom and Dad won’t end up fostering him. Kind of weird, the whole thing. I didn’t know they were thinking about a dog, or even fostering a dog.”

  “Your dad wants a dog. Fostering is his way of working your mom into it.”

  “That’s what I said. He denied it.”

  “Just wait. They’ll own that dog before the end of summer.”

  “Nack,” Dylan said, pushing his way between Joe and Karen.

  “Snack? Are you hungry, bud?” Joe said, pulling Dylan into his lap. “How about we get some clothes on you first?”

  “I put some chicken and rice thing in the oven while you were outside. It was already thawed so it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “Sounds good. Who provided the chicken and rice thing?” Joe asked over his shoulder as he carted Dylan off to his bedroom.

  “I have no idea. There’s so much in the freezer, I’ve lost track.”

  They chatted over dinner, Joe and Karen each holding a baby and taking turns trying to convince Dylan to eat something other than a piece of bread.

  “One bite of chicken, Dylan, then you can have more bread,” Karen told him.

  “One more chicken,” Dylan repeated, then promptly squeezed his lips together so tightly they turned white.

  “Does it seem like he’s repeating everything we say? That’s new, isn’t it?”

  Karen cocked her head in Dylan’s direction. “He’s talking more and more, stringing words together more in a way that makes sense. I think he’s decided he needs to speak up or he’s going to get lost in the shuffle around here.”

  “Are we ignoring him?” Joe felt a flutter of panic. The twins took so much of their time, were they short-changing Dylan? “Do we need to make more time for him?”

  “We’re not ignoring him, things are just different. He was used to being the only, now he’s one of three and the other two, for the time being, require more attention. He’s adjusting, that’s all.” Karen turned to look at Joe. “At least that’s what I’m telling myself.”

  “This is hard, isn’t it? The whole parenting thing is hard, but it got so much harder. You know, I’ve looked at some of those books you asked me to read.” Karen’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I have, looked at them. Can’t say I’ve read them all, but I’ve looked. I expected, or wanted, one of them to give me all the answers, but they don’t do that, do they? They tell you one thing, but then go on to say all kids are different, yours may or may not do this or that, may do it earlier, may do it later, blah, blah, blah. What’s the point? It seems like I could have written a book like that. Cover all the bases and leave yourself an out.”

  Karen nodded as she spoke. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it? I guess there aren’t any hard and fast rules, hard and fast milestones. Maybe if your child isn’t doing something by a certain age it’s cause for concern, but for the most part, they’re all going to do things on their own schedule. Maybe that’s the point of the books. Don’t sweat it if yours doesn’t seem to be doing what the kid next door is doing.”

  “But Dylan’s on track, right? Ahead even?”

  “Dylan’s fine. His doctor has been pleased with his progress at every check-up. And look.”

  Karen swung her head in Dylan’s direction. He’d apparently decided he was done eating and instead, was using his chicken and bread pieces to make a line across his plate. The pieces were carefully placed end to end, and as Joe and Karen watched, Dylan clapped his hands and said, “Choo, choo!”

  “He’s fine,” Karen repeated. “Will you take Evan and I’ll clean up?”

  “Sure.”

  Karen situated Evan in Joe’s empty arm. It was getting easier every time. Without arm rests or pillows supporting his arms, he competently held both of them and even managed to shift Julia to the same arm as Evan for a moment to free up a hand to unfasten Dylan’s bib. While he didn’t use that free hand to pat himself on the back, choosing instead to get Julia back safe and sound next to him, he told himself he could have.

  While Karen bustled around the kitchen and Dylan sat on the floor and arranged magnets on the refrigerator, Joe wondered how best to broach the subject of Karen’s doctor visit. She hadn’t mentioned it and wondering whether she’d talked her way out of it with Dr. Hilliard’s nurse was driving him crazy. He wanted to ask but didn’t know how without Karen figuring out he’d called her doctor.

  “Karen, I was wondering—”

  “Oh, I forgot to ask you,” she interrupted. “I got a call today from Annie’s office wanting me to come in tomorrow for my six-week check. I told Jeanette, Annie’s nurse, that I’m fine and was going to wait until you’re out of school. She gave me a bunch of nonsense about being anemic and needing to have blood work done.”

  Karen spun around and faced Joe. “I’m a nurse too. I told her so and told her if I was anemic, I’d know it. She acted like she didn’t even hear me, just said she had me down for two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I planned on no
t showing up, but I see on your calendar that tomorrow is an in-service day. I don’t suppose you could come home a little early and stay with the kids so I can get this over with?”

  Joe struggled not to smile, let alone cheer. He felt confident his face showed the right combination of interest, concern, and consideration when he answered.

  “I can sneak out. The last in-service of the year is really just a catch-up day. I don’t have any meetings scheduled. Sure, I can be here. It’s not serious, this anemia?”

  Karen waved aside Joe’s concern. “It’s nothing.” Then she paused, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me you can’t take care of all of them at once? What’s up?”

  “Nothing, nothing’s up. Okay, I’ll admit my mind was racing trying to figure out if I could call my mom and have her come over, but no, I can do it. I will do it. It will only be an hour or so, right?”

  “Should be.” She still eyed him suspiciously as she wiped down the table. “Could take longer if the lab is busy. Dylan might still be napping when I leave, but I can’t guarantee he’ll sleep the entire time. Probably won’t.”

  Joe took a fortifying breath as he contemplated whether he could have his mom on standby. “Not a problem. Dylan’ll help me with the twins.”

  The sound came from deep in Karen’s belly and built to such an uproarious laugh it brought Dylan to his feet. When she finally caught her breath, Karen said, “You let me know how that goes.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  IT WAS NO wonder people hated going to the doctor. Karen frowned at the scene in the waiting room. Spring colds seemed to be the order of the day as everyone from toddlers to those using canes was hacking and sneezing. Stay home, she wanted to shout. The doctor couldn’t and wouldn’t do anything for a cold but to tell the patient to rest, drink a lot of fluids, and take Ibuprofen if a headache gets to be too much to bear.

  She knew she should be more understanding, more compassionate, that was her job, after all, taking care of those who were sick or injured. Right now, though, all she wanted was for everyone to stop coughing on her. She’d have to burn her clothes and bathe in hand sanitizer before she’d dare go near the twins. Sure, she believed in exposing kids to germs, in letting them get their hands dirty, but not when they weren’t yet six weeks old.

  She folded her arms across her chest, crossed her legs, and swung her foot impatiently in the air. Short of donning a surgical mask and wearing a sign, she didn’t think she could make the ‘steer clear’ vibe any more obvious. She just hoped those around her would take notice.

  Since the clinic in Misty Lake served not only Misty Lake residents but those from several neighboring towns as well, the room today was filled with strangers. She’d had to make some idle chitchat with the receptionist, answering questions about the twins, but aside from that, her visit had been blessedly solitary. That had been a fear, running into friends and having them grill her. She’d been successfully avoiding most calls and texts from those friends. If she kept it up, she guessed the excuse of being exhausted and run ragged caring for two newborns would run out soon enough and she might have a hard time calling some of them friends for much longer.

  Maybe it would be for the best. Holing up in her house seemed like the best strategy right now. She didn’t need anyone scrutinizing her babies and hurling dozens of questions at her.

  Karen uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, watched the clock and added up the minutes she’d spent waiting, then took to drumming her fingers on her thigh. Five minutes, she decided. If they didn’t call her name in five minutes, she was out of there. Her appointment could wait. She wasn’t exactly eager to talk to Annie, anyway.

  She cursed under her breath when, four minutes and forty-seven seconds later, she heard her name.

  In the few minutes Karen spent with the nurse who checked her pulse, blood pressure, temperature, and asked a slew of ridiculous questions, Karen learned the nurse was new to the clinic and to Misty Lake, was named Tiffani with an I, as that was apparently important, was the oldest of six kids, loved to water ski, and had the cutest boyfriend ever…Gregg, with two G’s.

  Even on her best day, Karen knew there was no way she’d ever share that much personal information with a patient. Today, she wanted to stuff a roll of gauze down the perky, bleached blonde Tiffani’s throat. Instead, Karen nodded a few times, managed one smile, and said a prayer of thanks when Tiffani danced out, telling her Dr. Hilliard would be in shortly.

  Shortly, in this case, was fifteen minutes. Annie walked in smiling, but Karen recognized the strain, the grief. She’d seen that same thing in the mirror more often than she cared to remember.

  “Karen, you’re looking well. How are those babies?”

  “Fine, they’re fine. You had a tough one. Take a minute.”

  “It shows, does it? I guess you’d know the signs.” Annie sat, pressed her fingers to her eyes, and did take a minute, along with a few deep breaths. “A miscarriage. Fairly late into the pregnancy. The couple’s been trying for a long time. They were so happy, so hopeful. Now, they’re devastated. Telling them that it happens, that they didn’t do anything wrong, that they can try again soon, all sounded meaningless, even as I said it. It’s all true, but to them, right now, it’s meaningless.”

  Karen didn’t have to know the couple to understand the pain and the heartbreak Annie’d witnessed. It was universal, that devastation when, with just a few words, lives were forever changed. I’m sorry, we did everything we could, but we weren’t able to save your son; We got the lab results back, it’s cancer; Researchers make miraculous strides every day, it’s possible that one day your husband will walk again. The fancy car, the vacation home, the flashy jewelry, the prestigious job…there was nothing the person hearing those words wouldn’t trade in a heartbeat to undo what life had dealt.

  When Annie dropped her hands into her lap, Karen covered them with her own. “Even if it didn’t seem like it today, your words, your compassion, will be a comfort to them in the days ahead. It may not seem like it, but you helped them, and you’ll help the next and the next. It’s what you do, and I haven’t come across many who do it better.”

  Annie gave a brief, quick nod and blinked her eyes against the tears that threatened. She was still for a moment longer, her eyes searching for something far away. Then that moment passed, and she straightened her spine and faced Karen with clear eyes.

  “I apologize for that. I don’t know why this one hit me so hard, but thank you.” She squeezed Karen’s hand once before turning her attention to the information Tiffani had entered in Karen’s chart. As she scrolled through the computer screens, she nodded her approval.

  “Everything here looks good. How are you feeling?”

  Convinced Annie had moved past the worst of it, Karen switched gears along with her.

  “Fine. Tired, but I have two newborns.” She shrugged.

  “It’s normal to be tired. Any extreme fatigue or other signs you may be anemic?”

  “No. I’m sure that was a temporary thing.”

  “You’re probably right, but I want to check. I’ll have you stop by the lab before you leave. I’m going to be out next week, that’s the reason I had Jeanette call you to arrange for you to come in today. I’m sure you would have called soon yourself.” At this, Annie arched a brow in Karen’s direction. “If you’re anemic, you’re going to have a harder time caring for the babies and for Dylan. Not to mention yourself.”

  “I’m not anemic, Annie,” Karen said, fighting frustration.

  Annie continued as if she hadn’t noticed the sting in Karen’s words. “How are the twins doing?”

  “They’re doing well. They don’t seem to want to be on the same schedule, but I keep telling myself it’s only been a few weeks, it will get better.”

  “It will. You’re still nursing?”

  “Yes. They’ve both had bottles a few times. I’m trying to get both the babies and Joe comfortable with it.”

  “
Keep at it. Their pediatrician will have better advice on feeding them, but I’ll tell you not to feel bad or guilty if you move them to bottles and formula sooner than you did with Dylan. There’s no shame in it; don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise.”

  Karen nodded. “I won’t.”

  “And how are things with you and Joe? Strains on your relationship?”

  This time Karen couldn’t hold in the sigh. “I already answered all of Tiffani’s questions. I know you have it right in front of you.”

  Annie turned from the computer. Karen could feel the doctor’s eyes boring into her and struggled not to cave under the scrutiny. She had to remind herself Annie couldn’t read her mind.

  “Yes, it’s here in front of me. Sometimes, as you know, a patient prefers to talk with the doctor and will tell the doctor things she doesn’t want to tell the nurse. Or vice versa.”

  Silence hung in the air between them like a storm cloud. Karen decided she wouldn’t be surprised if Annie could read her mind.

  “There’s nothing to tell. The kids are fine. Joe’s fine. I’m fine.” Karen picked up her hands and let them fall. “Everything is fine.”

  “That’s a lot of fines.” Annie tapped her pen on the desk. “We’ve known each other a long time. I’d like to think you’d talk to me if there’s something that’s not fine.”

  Karen’s heart raced, her anger flared. “Why is it everyone is so convinced there’s something wrong with me? Am I supposed to make up something to make you happy? To satisfy Joe and everyone else who asks me, a dozen times a day, if I’m doing okay? Is that what you all want? I’ve seen enough over the years to concoct something pretty elaborate if it will shut everyone up.” Her hands shook, and her voice was shrill by the time she finished.

  Annie’s dark eyes rounded beneath her fringe of wispy, black bangs. Slowly, calmly, she said, “Karen?”