Between Heaven and Earth
Page 17
“Ouch.” He winced but took the deserved jab. It effectively doused the internal burning he hadn’t been very good at controlling this afternoon. The last thing he wanted to act or sound like was the guy he used to think he was. “Sorry.” He ducked his head and put his hands in his pockets, where they’d stay out of trouble. Now if only his mind and his mouth would.
“I was just going to ask if you and Noah would like to come trick or treating with the boys and me next week. I don’t imagine the candy selection is too good in your part of town.”
“Not unless you count walnuts,” Cassie said. “There are a couple of pretty big trees on the next farm over, but that’s about it as far as neighborly goodies.”
“So you’ll come then?” Matt asked, always hungry for more time with her, especially just doing normal family things like playing soccer or going to the school carnival together like they all had last week.
“I can’t,” Cassie said. “It’s one of the few nights of the year when I take Noah to see Devon.”
“Halloween?” Matt was sure his expression must be as perplexed as he felt.
“The care center puts on this event, and families are encouraged to come, bring their children, and trick or treat from room to room.”
“At a facility where patients are unable to care for themselves?” Matt scratched the side of his head. “I’m sorry, but that just sounds like a really bad idea.”
“I thought so, too, at first.” Cassie started walking toward the boys, who were poorly attempting to head butt the soccer ball to each other. Matt fell into step beside her.
“You have to realize that all the patients aren’t like Devon. There are a lot of sweet old people there, and they get lonely. They love the kids. There are even a few children who are patients at Sierra, too. Their disabilities are such that their parents just couldn’t care for them, so they live at the center permanently. It’s really sad.”
“And people in masks and scary costumes make it better?” Matt was starting to see her point, but it still seemed like an event of this nature had a lot of potential for disaster.
“Masks aren’t allowed,” Cassie explained. “There’s a dress code, actually. No weapons, real or pretend, no monsters, no blood, etc. Think of it as a kinder, gentler Halloween.”
“If you say so.” He wondered if seeing some of those patients, and particularly his father, might not be the most frightening thing of all for Noah.
“I can see that you don’t believe me, so you should come with us. I’ll put you all down on the list.” Cassie stopped walking and caught Matt’s eye. “You could meet my husband.”
“All right.” His answer probably wasn’t as enthusiastic as she’d hoped, and her invitation certainly wasn’t what he’d envisioned for Halloween night. The mirage of him and Cassie, bundled up and walking close together behind the boys as they went from house to house, vanished, as did his other plans for later— sitting on the sofa together, drinking cocoa and talking while the boys divvied up their loot.
Trick-or-treating at a care center wasn’t what he wanted, but then, when was the last time Cassie’d had anything she wanted? He swallowed, uncomfortably conscience of how selfish his thoughts and motives had been of late, since the evening of the head lice, really, a few weeks earlier.
It was as if some parasite had invaded his brain and siphoned away all logic regarding his relationship with Cassie. Their friendship. That’s all it was. All it ever could be. Maybe seeing her husband would be the solid reminder he needed.
“All right, where’s this surprise?” Matt exaggerated stumbling as he weaved his way around Janet Jensen’s front room, a hand outstretched. His other hand reached behind him, to keep Asher from sliding off his back. Asher’s sticky little fingers pressed tightly to Matt’s eye sockets, not quite blocking his entire vision, but an effective blindfold nevertheless, as fear of being gouged encouraged Matt to keep his eyes securely shut.
“Not that way, Dad.” Austin grabbed Matt’s hand and pulled him toward the kitchen and the sound of a chair being pulled out.
“Sit,” Austin said a minute later when they’d reached their apparent destination. Matt obeyed, only too happy to shrug Asher from his shoulders and to relieve the pressure from his eyes.
“Don’t look yet,” Noah said.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Matt said, grateful for the extra seconds to recover.
Shuffling and giggles filled the air around him until finally Cassie’s voice silenced them.
“You may open your eyes now,” she said.
He did to see three small-sized, hat-topped, mustached, caped Musketeers standing before him, each brandishing a foam sword.
“One for all, and all for candy!” they chorused.
“That’s not what we practiced,” Cassie scolded, her brow arched at Austin, the ringleader, no doubt.
“It’s better.” His cheeky smile all but admitted guilt.
“I suppose when you’re five or six it is.” Cassie shifted her gaze from the boys to Matt.
He stood, walking around each of the Musketeers, admiring the feathers sticking out of their wide hats and the emblems on their tunics. “Did you make these?”
“My mom and I did,” Cassie said, as Matt noted the two sewing machines at the far end of the table.
“Cassie did most of the work,” Janet called from the pantry.
“I thought you were just watching the boys over here after school because there was more space for them to play. It would appear I’ve been tricked.”
Asher giggled and wrapped an arm around Matt’s leg.
“More space really is the main reason,” Cassie said.
“Do you like us, Dad?” Asher asked.
“Do you know who we are?” Noah’s expression mirrored Cassie’s when she was concerned.
“Of course I like you. And I know who you are.” Matt crouched in front of them. “The Three Musketeers are famous. “‘All for one and one for all,’ meant they stuck together no matter what, protecting each other and the king. You guys are from a book and at least a few movies.”
“See,” Cassie said. “Nothing to worry about.” To Matt she said, “Noah is concerned no one will know who they are. He was hoping for a more popular costume, Batman or one of the Avengers. But no masks and no—”
“Weapons?” Matt placed his hand over Asher’s and attempted to slice the floppy foam sword through the air.
“Well, I hardly think those count,” Cassie said.
Matt didn’t think so either, and he could understand Noah’s disappointment. What kid wanted a play weapon that resembled a sponge? He decided his contribution to Halloween— post care center, of course— would be some better swords for the boys to play with.
“The costumes are great. Perfect, really.” Over the past two months, the three boys had become nearly inseparable. Matt wasn’t certain if it was because of the afternoons they spent together when Cassie watched them, or if Noah was so eager for friends that he’d bonded with both brothers and that somehow made Austin and Asher closer as well. Whatever magic was at play, Matt hoped it continued. He guessed that Cassie did, too, as he watched her smiling fondly as the boys chased each other around the table, their capes flying.
“Ready for tomorrow night?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Reluctantly Matt pulled his attention from the boys. He’d enjoyed the temporary respite, but Cassie’s question brought the imminent visit to the care center front and center. He wasn’t ready to see her husband, to see any of the patients at Sierra Long-Term Care, truth be told. It was too close to a hospital, and a hospital represented sickness and death, and that was too close to the memory of losing Jenna and to his own pain. Ready or not, tomorrow night he’d have to face it all.
“Nice.” Matt’s voice was sarcastic as it carried from the guest bathroom at Cassie’s Mom’s house. “The boys are heroes. You get to dress like a princess—”
“Seventeenth century French nobility,” Cassie called
out, correcting him. She lowered the cape and studied her head full of curls in the hall mirror. Not bad. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d curled her hair before this and was secretly glad her mother had taken pains to make this costume that warranted an elaborate hairstyle, even if it had taken over an hour to achieve.
Cassie told herself it was important she look especially good tonight because she’d be seeing Devon, and it was a special day, a holiday. If he were awake, she would certainly dress up from her usual Friday night attire. They’d probably be going to a costume party together after they took Noah trick or treating around the neighborhood, of course.
Dreams. No doubt dressing in costume only fed them.
“Really?” More disgruntled sounds came from the bathroom.
Cassie imagined Matt struggling with a ruffled shirt or powdered wig. “Mom?” she called to her mother in the other room. “What costume did you make Matt?”
Mom came down the hall, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Well, you said he couldn’t look like he matched you, like you were a couple,” she added under her breath.
Cassie nodded. That had been her mom’s first plan until Cassie nipped it in the bud when she found the patterns for the man’s shirt and pantaloons.
“We’re not a couple,” Cassie whispered fiercely as she pulled her mom away from the bathroom door. “We’re going to see Devon tonight. I don’t know how you could suggest that Matt and I dress alike.”
“Well, you aren’t, so you needn’t worry about that.” Mom frowned her disapproval. “But you are friends, and you have been acting as a family of sorts, so he needs to look like he belongs, too.”
“What did you do?” The talk she’d had with her mom after the night she and Matt had spent alone cleaning his apartment had only seemed to fuel her mother’s fire that Matt was more than a friend. Cassie couldn’t understand her mother’s rationale. She loved Devon, too. Cassie had even asked, were the tables turned, and it was her father lying in that care center, would her mom continue to be faithful. Janet had been upset that Cassie had even asked such a question.
“But this is different, dear,” her mother had said.
“How?” Cassie demanded.
“It just is,” Mom said, as one of those far away smiles graced her lips.
It just isn’t, Cassie thought, especially not tonight. Sounding like a frustrated teen, she sighed as her mom retreated to the kitchen again.
“Matt,” Cassie called. “We’re going to be late.”
“Go on without me.”
“No way.” Cassie gathered the heavy skirt in her hands and marched down the hall. She pounded on the bathroom door. “Quit acting like a ninny and come out here.”
Unintelligible muttering came from the other side of the door. A few seconds later, it opened to a very disgruntled Three Musketeers candy bar. Cassie burst into laughter. She couldn’t help it.
“See.” Matt started to push the door closed, but she wedged her way in, no easy feat with the wide skirt of her dress.
“It’s awesome,” Cassie said, taking in the back of the Three Musketeers costume in the mirror. Beneath the shiny fabric wrapper, complete with appliquéd lettering, Matt’s bare hairy legs stuck out. She bit her lip to keep from laughing again.
“I look good enough to eat?” he joked.
“Definitely.”
He perked up. “In that case—”
Cassie backed out of the room in a hurry. How was it they kept getting in this situation— flirting, standing too close to one another, becoming too familiar and comfortable. The red danger button flashed and blared in her mind, but down the hall, her mother was looking on and smiling.
“Do you like his costume?” she asked as Cassie marched past.
“It’s great,” Cassie said. Her mom had honored her request; they didn’t match, but somehow it had gotten her into trouble anyway.
The boys were just finishing dinner in the kitchen, and they, too, laughed out loud when Matt appeared.
“Hey,” he quipped. “Don’t laugh at me. This is all your fault.” He placed a hand on Austin’s head. “One for all and all for candy.”
The boys laughed louder but instead of joining in, Cassie felt something melt inside of her. Matt looked ridiculous, yet he was willing to for his sons. And mine. Because of Matt, life had been so much better the past couple of months. Fighting a sudden swell of emotion that had her near to tears instead of laughter, Cassie pulled her hood up and started for the door.
“Come on everyone. Let’s go.”
The antiseptic smell dredged up painful memories the instant Matt stepped through the doors of Sierra Care. He glanced down at Austin and Asher to see how they were faring and was relieved to see they both appeared to be busy taking in all the bats and ghosts hanging from the ceiling. He’d never taken them to the hospital to see Jenna to say goodbye to her. It hadn’t been a choice, really. The accident had transfigured her face in a way that made it almost unrecognizable, and he hadn’t wanted the boys to see or remember her that way.
Like I do. He didn’t usually; all the pictures in his bedroom helped with that, but just as he’d feared, the care center brought it all back.
Matt shuffled along behind Cassie and the boys, almost looking like a patient here himself. Janet had sewn the cloth candy bar straight, all the way to the bottom of the costume which fell to his knees— so no one will be able to see up under it, she’d told him— and the result left him with very little stride.
Cassie led them past a living room-like foyer, straight back, then down one hall and then another. Halloween music piped from the intercom, and, still waddling behind the others, Matt rocked out a bit to the Ghostbusters theme. Anything to get his mind off of where they were.
People come here to die. Maybe it wasn’t such an inappropriate place for a Halloween party, though not one five-year-olds attended.
At the nurse’s station, Cassie introduced Matt and the boys.
“Lynn, these are our guests tonight, Matt Kramer and his sons, Austin and Asher.”
“I love your costumes,” Lynn said, her amused gaze lingering on Matt as she distributed plastic bracelets to each of them.
“My mom made them,” Cassie said by way of explanation.
“Ah.” Lynn nodded. “Tell her I said hello, will you? I haven’t seen her for a while.”
“She comes to visit during the day now,” Cassie explained. “Her eyesight is getting too poor for her to drive at night.”
“Well, tell her I miss seeing her then.”
“I will.” Cassie turned to the boys and Matt. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re going to start with the children who live here. We’ll visit with each of them for a few minutes. Most can’t eat candy, so the treat for them is having visitors tonight.”
“They’re going to laugh at Daddy,” Asher predicted.
“Maybe.” Cassie’s eyes flickered to him, and Matt gave her a smile and thumbs up to let her know he was still on board.
Just barely. The costume was the least of his worries now. It was memories from last January that were causing a cold sweat to break out across his forehead.
“Remember what we talked about and the movie we watched,” Cassie said.
“Movie?” Matt asked.
“Last week. You were at work,” she clarified. “I showed them a documentary about children with severe disabilities. I wanted them to be prepared for what they’d see today."
“Oh. Great idea.” He was impressed. Once again, Cassie’d shown how thoughtful a person she was. In this case, it was thinking not only of the children who lived here, but thinking about how Austin, Asher, and Noah would handle this place. He wished there had been a video he could have watched to prepare.
The first room they came to belonged to a nine-year-old girl with cerebral palsy. She was also blind, so Matt felt unable to provide much entertainment value. He was astonished at what Cassie and the boys did, especially Noah. It was clear he’d been here before a
nd felt comfortable around these types of children. Asher was quick to warm up as well. Only Austin hung back, standing near Matt while the others held the girl’s hands and talked to her.
“What’s wrong with her, Dad?” Austin whispered. “What’s that thing Cassie said she has? Can we catch it?”
“We can’t catch anything that anyone here has.” Matt explained what he’d already heard Cassie say several times. “Cerebral palsy means that her brain didn’t develop right.”
Austin seemed to think about this for a minute while Matt watched as Cassie helped the girl run her fingers over the feather in Noah’s hat.
“Brains sure hurt a lot of people,” Austin said.
“They can,” Matt agreed, “but they also do amazing things. Your brain is like a computer for your entire body.”
“When I grow up I’m going to learn how to fix them,” Austin declared with as much passion and intensity as he’d exhibited during the fits he’d thrown the past months. “So people like mom don’t have to die and people like Noah’s dad will wake up.”
“That’s a fine idea.” Matt pulled Austin up against him. “It would make Mom very happy to hear that.”
By the next room— belonging to a fifteen year-old born without legs and with much of his torso deformed— Austin was participating, too. When the patient, Zack, showed extreme interest in Matt’s costume, Matt joked with him, saying that the costume would be perfect for Zack, and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone checking out his hairy legs. Cassie promised that Zack could wear it or she’d have her mom make him one of his own next year. Matt would have been only too happy to give it to him now.
After they’d visited all of the children’s rooms, he began to see why this activity began at four-thirty and went until nine. At the pace they were going, they’d be here past ten. But the boys were enjoying themselves, and somewhere between the teenage girl recovering from an amputation and the elderly woman with Alzheimer’s, Matt realized he’d stopped thinking about his own loss and had started counting his blessings instead.