Goodbye to You

by A. J. Matthews

  “I don’t think they’ll be mad,” I say, regretting my anger last week, “but they’ll be upset you didn’t say anything till now. Don’t delay anymore.”

  She props her chin up on my chest and takes my hand in hers.

  “You’re right.” She absently toys with my fingers. “With Jen’s treatment and daddy helping out with the twins, they’ve been so stressed. I don’t want to add to it.”

  “You’ve been helping out, too. How is holding this in not stressing you? They’re your family. That’s what family does. They take on each other’s burdens to make them lighter.”

  “You’re right.” She squeezes my leg.

  “Wait, did you say twins?”

  She nods.

  “Do they run on your side of the family, or your sister’s ex? Because if it’s yours, do you know what the chances would be of us having twins?”

  She lays her head back down, shielding her face. She doesn’t respond.

  Hell, maybe she doesn’t even want kids, but she trained to be an elementary school teacher, so I assume she wants kids of her own.

  She’s under so much pressure. These last rounds of tests, telling her family, the looming surgery. That’s a lot to handle.

  “Come with me. Sunday. To family supper. Daddy wants to introduce me to his new girlfriend. I want them to meet you.”

  That’s a big deal, meeting the family over a meal. I smile remembering my first family dinner with Thea, pizza in the kitchen after Mom found her almost naked in my room.

  There’s a story for the reunion.

  I squeeze her tightly. “I’d love to. I need to study in the morning. What time should I be here?”

  “I’ll pick you up at three thirty. Wear something decent.” She pulls on my ratty Miami shirt.

  Now I’m nervous. Family dinner. Meeting her dad. Dressing up. This could be great, or disastrous, but I’ll support her. She needs to talk to her family now. They’ll want to help her, support her through recovery.

  Because that’s what families do.

  The end of medical school is years away, but can’t come soon enough for me.

  Then I can start my own family, with Thea.

  We’re gonna make some pretty kids.

  I hope they look like her.

  Chapter 17

  Thea

  Shay sucks in a deep breath and releases the air in a slow “whoooosh.” It’s adorable how nervous he is to meet my daddy and Jen.

  “You’ll be fine. They don’t bite.” I squeeze his arm to reassure him. “Unlike me.”

  “I like when you bite. And when you say those things, I can’t stop thinking about getting you naked later. That’s going to feel a little dirty in your childhood home.”

  I grin up at him as he cracks his neck and shakes his shoulders out. We walk up the sidewalk from his car, and he pauses.

  I link my arm in his and pull him along. “Come on. Don’t be a big sissy.”

  “Your dad, is he a large man? Does he own a gun?”

  “No, and yes.” His eyes widen in terror, and he tries to turn around and walk back to the car. “He’ll only use the shotgun to scare you.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  He has no reason to be nervous. I, on the other hand, am quaking inside. Not only am I meeting Daddy’s new lady, but I’m going to have a private conversation with my family and tell them what’s going on since the surgery is in a few days.

  The time has flown by.

  I first met Shay almost three months ago.

  And here we are, at a family supper together.

  Though technically we had one of those with his mom after we knew each other for just a few days.

  Still the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me.

  If Daddy had caught Shay in my room practically naked, the outcome would have been much different.

  We walk up the creaky stairs to the open front door, the fresh October breeze blowing in through the screen.

  Shay holds the door open, remembering that I told him he’d get brownie points from Daddy if he caught Shay acting like a gentleman. Which Shay does without asking anyway.

  “Hello? Daddy? Jen? We’re here.” Shay’s carrying the six-pack of beer we picked up on the way, and I take the bottles from his shaking hands before he drops them.

  “Baby, calm down.”

  “This is a first for me. I’ve never ‘met’ anyone’s parents before. My first girlfriend, our families knew each other forever before we started dating freshman year of high school.”

  “Follow my lead, and just be normal.” He cracks his neck again. “And relax!”

  He shakes his arms, trying to throw the tension off.

  Daddy comes out from the kitchen and kisses me on the cheek, his whiskers a little rough on my skin. Like when I was little, his beard still tickles me, and I giggle like that baby girl I used to be.

  He then steps back, narrowing his eyes, and glares at Shay.

  I slap Daddy on the arm. “Stop! He’s already scared as hell to meet you, and you’re making it worse.”

  Daddy bursts out in laughter, and pumps Shay’s hand. “A pleasure to meet you, son. We’ve heard so much about you.”

  “G-good, I hope.” He glances at me, and I shrug.

  “Of course, of course. That doesn’t mean I’m not going to interrogate you tonight. The ex-cop in me, son. Need to make sure you’re good enough for my baby.”

  “I doubt it, sir, but who is good enough for her?”

  My stomach clenches, in a good way. He’s more than good enough for me.

  “An-T’s here! An-T’s here!” My niece and nephew, in all their four year-old glory, wrap themselves around my legs and threaten to topple me with their exuberant hugs.

  I kneel down to their level and whisper, “I want you to meet someone special. Can you stand still long enough to say hi?”

  Kyle stands up straight and nods, fingers twitching and eyes rolling. A four year-old can’t be perfectly still, but it’s good enough. Shay’s watching. The tenderness on his face leaves me breathless. I smile, and motion for him to join us down low.

  He crouches, and I point at the kids. “This lovely lady is Josie and this handsome fella is Kyle. Guys, this is my friend Shay.”

  They both wave at him and he shoots them a dazzling smile.

  “What a pleasure to meet the tiniest McBrides.” He looks at Josie and winks. “The prettiness runs in the family. You’re quite a lovely little lass.”

  Josie buries her face in her hands and runs away. He’s so charming he makes even the littlest girls blush.

  Kyle tugs on Shay’s sleeve. “What ‘bout me?”

  Shay chuckles and eyes Kyle with some consideration. “You? You’re quite the strapping lad. Strong enough to defend your auntie and mama and sister from monsters.”

  “Yeah, monsters, rawwwrrr!” Kyle darts off and goes after Josie, growling like a creature from the deep.

  We stand up, and Shay rests his hand on the small of my back. My skin tingles through the thin fabric of my dress and light sweater. It’s a comforting touch, one meant to reassure me and help me through dinner, but it still warms me. It makes me think of him folding me in his arms and kissing me senseless.

  “The-a!” Jen wanders out of the kitchen in her stained apron. Her hair’s coming back in, and the color is returning to her skin. Her eyes widen as her gaze scans Shay from the top of his carefully-styled dark hair to the tips of his polished black shoes. “Hello. You must be the amazing guy my baby sister can’t stop talking about.”

  Shay’s face reddens, but he shakes my sister’s outstretched hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Jen. Thea neglected to mention how gorgeous you are.”

  Jen’s the one who blushes now, and I squeeze Shay’s arm in appreciation as she drops his hand and takes a hold of mine. “Come on, little sis. You must meet Marcy. Not only is she an extraordinary nurse, but she’s one heck of a cook. You’ve got to try her mashed potatoes and homemade gravy
. To die for!”

  Jen leads, and I follow. Resistance is futile. When we get to the kitchen, a tall woman with coal-black hair and bright violet eyes works the pots on the stove top like a professional chef.

  She’s beautiful. Very Elizabeth Taylor.

  Way to go, Daddy.

  I slip the beer into the fridge and turn back to the older woman.

  “Marcy, this is my baby sister Thea. Where did Daddy get to? He should be making introductions. Anyway, Marcy, I was telling Thea about your spectacular cooking. She’s a hearty eater, so your efforts will be appreciated.”

  “Wow, thanks Jen. ‘Hearty eater.’ Is that the latest euphemism for ‘carrying a few extra pounds’?”

  “Ooooh, touchy. No.” She steps back and assesses me. “You look fabulous. That gorgeous hunk of man-meat seems to be happy with all this.” She waves her hands at me.

  “Um, thanks?”

  “Yeah, sure. He seems to agree with you, too. You’re practically glowing. He must be a dynamo in the sack.”

  My face heats up, but Marcy only smiles and shakes her head. Jen’s return to normalcy is complete, her interest in living vicariously through my sex life as inappropriate as ever.

  I was so nervous all day I couldn’t eat, and now all I want to do is stuff my fear, guilt, and anxiety down my throat in the form of an exorbitant amount of carbs.

  The warm scent of freshly-baked bread stokes my craving.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Marcy, and it’s wonderful to see Daddy smiling again. I think you can take all the credit for that.”

  “Maybe not all of the credit.” She nods in Jen’s direction. “Having Jen on her feet, and getting back to herself, is a huge deal. Seeing you happy hasn’t hurt, either.”

  I gulp. I don’t want to stand around feeling useless, and need something to take my mind off the thing I have to do tonight. “What can I do to help?”

  Marcy nods in the direction of the family room. “We’re good here, right Jen? I think you may be better off rescuing your young man.”

  I glance over my shoulder. Daddy’s talking non-stop. Shay nods and shakes his head, unable to get a word in.

  I tip my head at Marcy. “I think you’re right. He’s gonna talk his ear right off, isn’t he? Then move on to showing off the television.”

  The sound of cheering from a football game sweeps across the room, so that’s already started. Poor Shay. He’s not a sports fan—that’s more his brother Liam’s thing—but he’ll tolerate the game if he thinks it’ll make Daddy happy.

  Which will make me happy.

  He is one unselfish man, and I remind myself again how I’m lucky I found him. Lucky he found me again here in North Carolina.

  Fate, kismet, coincidence. Whatever you want to call it, it’s right.

  He’s in for the long haul.

  I am too.

  ***

  Shay

  “So son, Thea tells me you’re in medical school.” Burt’s fork pauses in midair as he waits for my answer.

  “Yes, sir. First year.”

  “What are you going to specialize in?”

  I finish chewing my meatloaf, washing it down with a sip of water.

  “I’m hoping to practice neuropsychiatry, sir. I started an internship with one of the physicians at the university hospital, and studied psychobiology at Miami. I’m confident it’s the right choice for me.”

  “Why? Out of all the specialties?” Burt shovels a forkful of mashed potatoes and gravy into his mouth and looks at me thoughtfully.

  “Daddy, can you just let Shay eat in peace?”

  “No, Thea. I don’t mind talking about it.” I put my fork down and consider my words. I’m not ashamed of my family’s history, but people often struggle with processing the situation.

  Burt narrows his eyes at me again and waits for my answer.

  “When I was a child, my mother died, and we later found out she was severely depressed, and it wasn’t an accident.” I decide not to say “suicide,” since the kids are still at the table. They’re not paying any attention to our conversation, but I don’t want to mention anything someone else may need to explain later.

  I take a deep breath and continue. “My little brother, Mac, has inherited some of those tendencies, and also has autism. I’m most interested in research. I’d like to help find more concrete biochemical and structural connections in mood disorders as well as developmental disorders. Better treatments will follow from there.”

  Burt continues to eat, but keeps his eyes on me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Thea squeezes my thigh under the table, and I smile weakly at her.

  I want to impress her family, and while her sister seems to like me, the jury’s still out on her dad.

  Burt puts his fork down and finally responds. I hold my breath.

  “Good to see a young man who knows what he wants. Has a plan. So many kids these days are clueless about what to do when they get out of college. But you, son, and my Thea, you’ve got it all figured out. She’s going to be a remarkable teacher, isn’t she?”

  I loop my arm around her shoulder and puff out my chest. “I think so, sir.”

  “Speaking of,” Jen says to Thea, “Daddy says your student teaching is lined up for spring. Is it nearby? You thinking about moving closer to home?”

  “No, the job is fifteen minutes from my apartment. I-I actually need to talk to you and Daddy.” She looks at me, and glances over at Marcy. “In private.”

  I lean in and kiss Thea on the cheek, giving her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “Dinner was amazing. Can I help clean up?”

  “I’d appreciate your help, thanks Shay.” Marcy stands and picks up some dishes. I follow suit.

  The twins trail behind us to the kitchen, sticking their little plastic character plates in the bottom rack of the dishwasher before dragging their toy trucks and books around the kitchen floor. For four year-old twins, they’re surprisingly low-key. Liam and I were the opposite of calm. “Holy terrors,” I believe is what Da called us. Our nicknames, Rascal and Scamp, did not come from us being mellow kids.

  Burt, Jen, and Thea move to the family room. Thea’s hands are clutched in her lap, and then I hear the muffled sound of her voice in one long stream. I already know what she’s saying, but I strain to hear how Jen and Burt respond.

  Jen sobs, and Thea cries, too. I resist the urge to comfort her. She needs this time with her family to work through everything. Good or bad, this is their conversation, not mine.

  They’ve got to understand her reasons. How could they not?

  “Shay. Shay?” Marcy is trying to get my attention.

  “Oh, yes, sorry. What were you saying?”

  “Want to help get dessert ready?”

  “Sure. Plates are…” I go to the cabinet she points out and pull out four stoneware plates, and a couple plastic bowls for the kids.

  Thea’s still talking, but everyone’s stopped crying. A good sign. Burt doesn’t appear angry, which Thea thought he might be.

  Like I was angry about her withholding the information. Was I petty to be so irate? Maybe. Now, though, I can help her through recovery. The entire process, from mastectomy to reconstruction, could take months, and she can’t do this alone, or rely strictly on her friends. They have lives, jobs, and responsibilities. I do too, but the most important thing I can do is take care of my future wife.

  I run the idea through my head.

  This is my wife. Thea Kelly.

  The name has a nice ring to it.

  The proposal needs to be spectacular.

  Deserving of Thea.

  My future wife.

  ***

  Thea

  That was easier than I expected. Both of them, at some point, had considered this a possibility.

  I think Jen wishes she’d had a mastectomy, instead of letting the cancer progress under an ineffectual treatment.

  Daddy seemed almost relieved. Not happy I waited so long to tell them, scoffing at the idea of
me “protecting” him. The protection role fell to him, as the father, he said before squeezing Jen and me into a rib-crushing group hug.

  Luckiest girl in the world. That’s me.

  We should get going, but I hesitate to pull Shay away from his fun. He’s running around the backyard with the kid, giving them piggyback rides and chasing them around the yard. Their delighted squeals sparkle in the air.

  Jen squeezes in next to me in the rocker on the back porch and lays her head on my shoulder.

  “That’s a good one you got. He’s okay with this?” Jen reaches over and pretends to squeeze my chest.

  I’m relieved to have the old Jen back. When she was at her lowest, retching and not eating and so weak, she had no energy to be the spunky girl we all loved.

  “Yeah, he is. He’s a professional, well, he’s going to be, so he gets the medical implications. He understands it’s the smartest thing to do.”

  “How is he, emotionally?”

  I face her. “What do you mean?”

  “Of course, logically he knows it’s for the best, but these,” she motions to my chest, “are some spectacular girls you’re giving up. He’s okay with this? Is he a boob man or a butt man? Because you have enough of both to make any man happy.”

  I slap her on the arm. “I thought boob man, but the other day, in the shower, he…I think he may be a butt man.”

  A heat creeps up my neck to my cheeks. I fan myself with my hand and check the porch clock.

  “Shay,” I call out, “sorry to break up the party, but we need to get back so you can study.”

  “Thea Michelle McBride, you’re going to tell me about all the dirty things this boy does to you at some point.”

  I jump up and dart off the back porch, calling over my shoulder, “Never!”

  The twins are fighting over turns for piggyback rides, and I settle the argument for them. “My turn!” I shout, jumping onto Shay’s back and throwing my arms around his neck as he catches my legs in his arms. Then we both chase Kyle and Josie around the yard before we collapse into a giggling mess, skirts and limbs tangled in tiny arms offering hugs and sticky lips offering sweet little kisses.