Tails California (Heads and Tails)

by Grea Warner

  Joel shifted those large eyes. Besides when he was actually sleeping, I never recalled seeing him so quiet. “Huh?”

  “Lyric. He ate some of your blocks. It made him sick.”

  Before Ryan even finished, Joel swung his head straight over to Lyric panting in my arms. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ryan answered with straightforwardness. “We’ll have to call the vet. But, Joel, he is under your care. Do you understand me? You need to be responsible when taking care of something that young. I’m so disappointed. You need to get some rags and bags right now and clean up the dog poop he left on the floor. You will have to prove to me you can keep your room clean again.”

  “Okay.” He looked down and then back up at Lyric and me. “I’m sorry, Lyric. I don’t want you to be sick. I’m sorry.”

  Lyric bounced in my arms. I did feel a little bad for Joel. While he needed to, yes, keep his room clean, the rambunctious little puppy was one we all had to keep an eye on as far as eating things. He once went head-first into a freshly baked pie I had cooling in the kitchen—even though Sallie was holding him tightly. And in the yard, he loved chasing after other animals. If a bird would ever dare swoop down too low? Oh, look out. We had learned to even keep a tight lid on the garbage cans after he tried desperately to knock one over to get into the contents.

  “Go ahead. Go do what I asked, please.” Ryan nodded in the direction of the kitchen and the cleaning supplies. When Joel started that way, Lyric followed him and Ryan said with a sigh, “All right. I’ll take him to the vet.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?”

  His eyes closed for the smallest of seconds as he shook his head. “I mean, what if something is blocked or any of those sharp edges did any internal damage? We had outdoor dogs growing up. I’m sure they got into all kinds of stuff and managed just fine, but I —”

  “You want to make sure he is okay.” My smile was part smirk at his kind, dog-loving heart. When he rolled his eyes back at me, I made the offer. “I’ll take him. You finish packing. And who knows how late it will be. You have an early flight tomorrow.”

  “Exactly. All I have to do is sleep on a plane. You have to wrangle two kids to camp, produce pleasantries to noncaffeinated customers, and be with my two precocious offspring nonstop in the evening for two days.”

  “What!” I mocked. “I’m doing all that?”

  He smiled softly and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll take him. I’m finished packing, and if it runs late, you get to sleep. Let me go get the mutt.”

  “Hardly a mutt.” I tsked.

  “Purebred mutt.” He turned to walk out of the room.

  “Ry?”

  “Yeah?” He faced me once more.

  “Shit happens.”

  His full belly laugh was so fun to watch. “It sure does.”

  ***

  Lyric’s visit to the vet did take a while. Ryan kept me informed via text of all that was going on during his time at the animal hospital. Since he didn’t have an appointment and it wasn’t an emergency, there was a slight wait. Then, they took images and made some assessments. The goldendoodle’s prognosis was the best we could have hoped for. There didn’t seem to be any damage and everything was to pass.

  When Ryan returned home, the kids were already asleep, and I might have been also had I not wanted to stay awake for his return. I trusted all was right with our curly four-legged critter. But I wanted a chance to say goodnight and close my eyes looking at my fiancé, especially since his flight was super early the next morning and everything would most likely be crazy in those moments.

  He entered our bedroom with an initial brush of air coming through his mouth. And then the ends curled up when he spotted me sitting up in bed waiting for him. “Next time we flip, Lenay.”

  “What?”

  He was unbuttoning and pulling off his shirt as he answered, “Who goes to the vet.”

  “What? You offered. I told you I would.”

  “Yeah.” He took off his shoes and hung his pants over the nearby chair. “Not being noble anymore. A twenty-four-hour veterinary hospital is way too stimulating, and someone, seriously, came up and asked me for my autograph.” He placed his wallet on the nightstand and started to crawl into bed with me.

  “Sorry,” I consoled with my word and a kiss. “Lyric’s good, though, right?”

  “Yeah.” He sounded and looked tired. “Do you know how much a vet bill costs for something as simple as that?”

  I crinkled my brows at the LA music manager who, while not an extravagant over-the-top spender, did not need to worry about money ... at all. “No. But I’m sure you’re fine with it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I was thinking of the people in there who might not be.”

  “Probably hocking your autograph for cash.”

  His laugh was short but legit. “Well, that certainly wouldn’t pay the bill. You know, it reminded me of you going to the ER for the brownie nut reaction and not having good insurance.”

  “It’s the whole reason I agreed to marry you,” I teased. “Your insurance.”

  “I thought it was my uncomplicated life,” he joked back.

  “Ha! Yeah.”

  He sat quietly for a second or two before speaking again. “Do you think the kids ... do you think they know the advantages they have? Do they understand all that they don’t have to worry about?” Introspective Ryan was clearly taking over. “They’ve never had hand-me-downs or watched us buy with coupons or whatever. They’ve never wanted for anything.” Not like Ryan or me growing up. He knew he was speaking for both of our childhoods—his rural farmland and mine as a small-town preacher’s daughter.

  “No,” I acknowledged. “I’m sure they don’t realize it.” Before his grumble lasted too long, I continued, “But they are also not those kids. They are kindhearted, respectful, compassionate children.” While I had his direct eye contact, I added one more thing, “And, quite honestly, because of who they are, they have other, different worries.” Before and after Kari’s death, I thought.

  “Yeah.” He breathed out his sad, accepting breath again. “There’s not much I can do about that.”

  “Nope. It’s their world ... their reality.”

  “I was thinking of finding some way of having Joel pay me back for Lyric’s bill. Not the real amount or cash, of course,” he quickly added.

  “Cleaning out the chicken coop?” I smiled a tease, thinking of his own childhood.

  “You laugh, Lenay, but it was not fun work.”

  “I’m sure it wasn’t, farm boy. To give Joel credit, he was very concerned about Lyric and did a good job cleaning the mess up ... both Lyric’s and his room.”

  “I saw it.” Ryan, I’m sure, had peeked into his children’s rooms as he had made his way to ours. “And you wanna know something?” He poked my arm. “Those chickens were never appreciative!”

  I laughed legitimately that time. “I appreciate you.”

  “Well, thank goodness someone does.”

  “I’m pretty darn sure there would be two little hands and a paw raised in addition to mine, Ryan.”

  His whole body seemed to rise and fall slightly. “I worry about them—their world, as you said.”

  “I know you do.” I elongated my body and rested my head on his torso. “And you have legit reasons to. But how they are turning out as human beings is not one of them.” I kissed his strong, sturdy, beating chest a couple times and did what I wanted to all along—tilted my head so I could look into his eyes and fall asleep.

  ***

  We did a Thompson family video chat Wednesday afternoon. Well, it was the afternoon for the kids and me. It was dinner time in Iowa. All of the Thompsons—minus Dylan’s clan—had gathered for dinner at Ryan’s parents’ house. Mrs. Thompson’s surgery was midmorning that next day. So, Wednesday eve was our one chance to live chat.

  I had barely gotten my greeting into Ryan when Joel piped in next to me. “Daddy, do you see where we are at?�
��

  “Huh? Uh, the house?” Ryan responded.

  “Where in the house?” Joel further questioned.

  “Spin the phone around a little, Joel. It’s too close,” I suggested, but he did so in the same speed Joel did everything—super fast. “No. Slowly. You are going to get your dad seasick.”

  Once he did, he immediately looked back into the phone. “Do you know now? It’s my room!” He immediately gave the answer away with excitement. “I bet you couldn’t tell because it is soooo clean. I told you I would keep it clean.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since he cleaned it. And he had barely been in the house, nonetheless his room, for one awake hour of those. But Joel was proud. So, Sallie and I had appeased him with our location central to call Ryan.

  “Uh-huh,” Ryan acknowledged. “Great. Now, you just need to keep it that way.”

  “I will!” Joel said as I gained control of the phone again and Ryan spoke.

  “How’s the dog?”

  “He pooped another one!” Sallie exclaimed, a little grossed out.

  “Well, that’s actually a good thing,” Ryan responded.

  “Hey, hey, hey, Bethany.” The image of Megan wrapping her arms around her younger brother from behind filled our screen. “Hey, kiddos!”

  “That’s Aunt Megan!” Joel called out.

  “Yeah, Joel.” Sallie looked at her brother incredulously. “They’re at Grammy and Pappy’s.” Duh!

  “Hi, Megan.” I decided to properly answer for all three of us. “How is everything there?”

  “Did you see Cotton Candy?” Sallie asked about her favorite animal at the Thompson farm—the white horse.

  “What about the piggies?” Joel chimed in.

  “Your dad is going to clean the pig pen out for Pappy.” That was Teagan, who was now also in view from Ryan’s end.

  “Oh,” Ryan immediately shot back. “He is not.”

  “I cleaned my room, Daddy!” Joel countered.

  And Sallie called out, “Hi, Aunt Teagan!”

  “Make sure he does the chicken coop, too,” I told Ryan’s sisters. “He was just talking to me about that last night.”

  “Lenay ...”

  “So, I’m sure we have you to thank for getting baby bro back home, huh?” Teagan was obviously talking to me.

  Rolling his eyes at the screen but very much meaning them for his sister, Ryan emphasized the first two words as he said, “Baby bro can make up his own mind.”

  “So, yeah, I got him to.” I stuck my tongue out at Ryan, who winked at me in return.

  “Totally a better man because of you,” Megan added.

  “Can’t argue that,” Ryan agreed, prompting both of his sisters to gush and awe at him.

  It was fun watching Ryan, who always claimed to hate being the youngest and therefore picked-on sibling, interact with his family. It made me long to be with him and them. But I knew and understood the reasons why I couldn’t. I also noted Megan’s last comment. It had never been told to me directly—and certainly not in front of the kids—but when Ryan was married to Kari, his relationship with his family, while not necessarily strained, wasn’t as present. And that made me sad because we all needed family. We all needed support from wherever we could grab on to it.

  Soon after, we wrapped up our conversation with everyone saying they missed and loved one another. And I knew that was most certainly the case. Even though I kept their routine pretty much on target, the kids missed their dad a lot. They weren’t used to him being the one who was away. It had always been Kari. So, it wasn’t just Joel, but both of them who had trouble falling asleep that night. But we made it through.

  ***

  Thursday was another story. Our schedule ... routine ... balance was completely thrown off, but it was for a fun reason. We went to the Princess Perfection movie premiere.

  After getting the kids from day camp, we picked up Willow and all her creative cosmetic and fabric elements. My best friend loved the idea of going to the premiere. She had even gotten props from the fashion magazine she worked at and was able to leave work early to act as a correspondent for the event. After she swooned over the house—which she did on every visit—Willow made a fashion station in the family room. While I prepared dinner, she enhanced the clothes for Princess Sallie and Knight Joel, which included homemade wands, crowns, sashes, and more. Makeup would wait until after our meal. We were on a tight schedule, but it was a good thing—it kept us all going. It was particularly fun to see Willow interact with the kids. She was far, far from wanting to be a mom herself, but she most definitely warranted the fun “aunt” status.

  Between parking, the red carpet, photo ops, snacks, and, of course the movie itself, by the time everything was done for the night and we made it back home, it was much later than Sallie and Joel’s regular bedtime. Joel had even fallen asleep in the car, which was probably a result of resisting sleep for so long the night before. I couldn’t help but think if Ryan had been there, he would have carried him. But I wasn’t that strong. So, I woke the little boy up enough to get him to his bedroom and didn’t even bother to ask him to change clothes.

  When I next entered Sallie’s room, she was in her pajamas and in bed. Her droopy eyes and unicorn stuffed animal against her chest told me she was moments from falling asleep, too. More than anything, I hoped the evening had been a good one for her.

  “Hey, Princess Sallie Belle, you all set for dreamland?”

  “Yeah. Thank you for taking me today, Bethany. It was a lot of fun.”

  “It was, wasn’t it?” My internal beam surely equaled the one on my face. “You know what I thought was so super special?”

  “Huh?”

  “Meeting the real princess.”

  Sallie momentarily closed her eyes as if reimagining meeting one of the European princesses who flew in for the event. “She was so nice and just like a regular person.”

  “That’s what I was saying. Princesses are real, and we can all be them. I’m gonna send your dad the photo of the two of you so he sees it first thing when he wakes up.”

  “Yeah. That will make him happy.” She smiled a little in her sleepiness. “I miss Daddy.”

  I touched her cheek, still rosy with extra Willow blush. “I do, too.”

  Particularly since we hadn’t had a minute to talk with him the entire day. And by the time we had gotten home, it was too late, especially in Iowa. Although, he had texted while I was at work to tell me that all went well with his mother’s surgery.

  “I miss Mommy, too.” The little girl was getting sleepier with her words and eyes, but her brain was very accurate. She glanced to her bedside table where a photo of Kari, among others, sat. “Do you miss her? I know Daddy doesn’t.”

  Huh? Wow. What? And, how to answer?

  I chose two out of three. “I know you miss your mom, Sals. If you’re sad and want to talk about her, you can. And your dad? Yeah, sure, he misses her.”

  Why would Sallie think he didn’t? What gave her that impression, and it was obviously a concern of hers. I thought of Ryan and how cautious, caring, and protective he had been with the kids, especially since Kari’s death ... how he tried to keep things sunny and bright. Was it too much? Did Sallie see what I did, too—that Ryan hadn’t vocalized any of his own feelings on Kari’s death?

  As I thought about all three of their grieving processes, Sallie said, “He misses Mommy?”

  “Yeah,” I reiterated and added, “Sometimes adults don’t really know how to say or show it, though.”

  “Oh.” Her heavy eyelids flickered.

  Then after a moment or two, I leaned over and nuzzled my cheek up against hers. “Sweet dreams.”

  After making my way down the hall and into the master bedroom, my thoughts were much more subdued and sentimental than a few minutes before. Sallie’s words had done that. I took off my own princess dress, removed my makeup, and started putting on my blue shorts pajama set. But I cha
nged my mind. I might not have missed Kari—although, I would have never wished her dead—but I did miss Ryan. And I missed him even more so since talking with Sallie and looking at our empty bed for the second night in a row—a bed that seemed so much larger and lonelier without him. So, I traded my pj’s for one of his shirts—a record label graphic T.

  Snuggling under the bedcovers, I was prepared to forward the photos as I had told Sallie I would. But I decided on a simple text instead. Even though it wouldn’t wake him up—and I didn’t want it to—it made me feel somehow like we were connected.

  Pang. Pang. I wrote.

  I placed my phone on the nightstand and started reminiscing about the first time, over a year before, when Ryan had said he had pangs. He had been in a meeting and suddenly had an urge—a pang—to call me ... out of the blue. And, ironically, I had needed to talk so much right then. I think it was the first time we both knew there was a connection between us different than most.

  The present-day phone ringing made me jump a little. “Ry?” I answered. “Hey, why are you calling? It’s so late.”

  His smooth, late-in-the-evening voice sang across the line. “Can’t sleep.”

  “Like father, like son,” I jested. On his partial grumble, I continued, “They’re both wiped out and asleep from the movie premiere now, though.”

  “Good. It went well, then?”

  “Yeah. No one recognized us.” I knew that was a fear of Ryan’s, but he didn’t want to disappoint Sallie after she decided to go, after all. And it wasn’t as if I didn’t know how to avoid questions. “Wait until you see Sallie’s photos,” I continued with a more positive thought. “She’s totally one hundred percent all about princesses again.” I left it at that, thinking her words about Kari would have to wait until a time when Ryan and I were face-to-face.

  “Thank goodness.” I “heard” his smile.

  “Everything all right? Is your mom okay?”

  “Yeah. Yeah. All good. No reason for you to have any pangs. That’s one of the reasons I called—so I could tell you that.”

  “Pangs are only for when you think something is wrong?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer. “I was just thinking of you. I miss hearing your whistle breath as you sleep. I miss you. That’s what my pang text was about.”