Mom's the Word

by Marilynn Griffith

  “Yes,” Neal said. “We’ll help. I just changed my schedule so that I’m free every afternoon. Rob, you can do errands—”

  “Take a nap…” Dyanne said playfully, though wondering if Neal had lost it. Every afternoon wasn’t the kind of help she had in mind. Neal had altered his schedule so that the two of them could spend more time together and so he could help Dyanne with Fallon’s book. With just a few weeks before the deadline and the book tour, now was the worst time to sign up for daily babysitting duty. She’d been thinking more along the lines of Sunday afternoon playtime.

  The relief on Rob’s face made Dyanne feel guilty for not wanting to do more.

  “Are you serious?” he said. “I’ve been praying and praying. I had it all planned, home office set up and everything, but we’ve got a new contract to install software in all the schools. They’re going to need me on-site every afternoon. I just found out and I had no idea what I was going to do. I didn’t want to back out on Karol. I don’t think she thinks I can do this, but I can. I want to.”

  Ryan rolled his eyes in the way that only an oldest child can. Dyanne wanted to laugh but she didn’t dare with Rob and Neal looking so serious. No wonder the boy thought his birthday would be forgotten this year. In the midst of all of this, Rob would be doing well to brush his teeth and get dressed every day.

  As Rob and Neal shook hands, Karol walked into the kitchen in a workout outfit that had seen better days. Her expression matched her clothes. Surprised. “Dyanne? Neal? Good to see you. If I’d known you were coming—”

  “They helped with the groceries, honey.”

  Karol’s eyes widened at the heap of paper and plastic bags. She kissed each of her children and then Rob. “Sweetheart, did you buy all this? Today?”

  Rob beamed. “I did. I took it right from the master list.”

  With a sigh, Ryan headed for the door. “I tried to tell him that was the wrong list, Mom—I mean, woman who gave birth to me.”

  Karol made a face at Ryan, but hugged Rob. “That’s what I buy for the month, but you don’t have to get it all at once. It’s broken down into weekly shopping on another page. But you know what? It might be easier this way. Thank you, honey. Thank you so much.”

  Rob waved thanks to Dyanne and Neal, who headed to their car, where they sat alone and silent before heading to dinner. Without saying it, they both knew what the other was thinking—though their lives had been full of travel and success, there was emptiness, too. The Simons had something that they lacked and it wasn’t just children.

  On Monday, Rob made good on their offer. School was out and all three Simon children arrived bright-eyed and bushy-tailed—or bushy-haired in Mia’s case—despite Rob’s suggestion of a nap. Dyanne would have joined Fallon, Neal and the children in the yard, but as she’d explained to her husband and her friend—yes, Fallon was officially Dyanne’s friend—earlier, she simply couldn’t be disturbed.

  Evidently no one had given Ryan the memo.

  “Hi. What are you working on?” He entered the office slowly, staring up at the wall-size poster with book covers for the new line. Covers Dyanne needed to analyze and prepare input for her phone meeting the next morning. That would have to wait until she’d transcribed Fallon’s audio files from the new voice recognition software Neal had bought her. They’d expected a longer learning curve, but when Dyanne told Fallon that the children would be coming over, she’d locked herself in the room and made it happen. So far that had been Dyanne’s best use for the kids next door. Except for Ryan, of course. He was different. Still, she had no time to talk even to a fabulous kid like him.

  “I’m working on Fallon’s book. It’s due around the time your mom’s whole experiment is up. Right before your birthday.”

  Ryan smiled. “Maybe we can celebrate everything all at once.”

  Dyanne still had secret hopes to do something special for Ryan, all by himself, but she went along. “Maybe. I’ve got to get to work, though, or there won’t be anything to celebrate. Sorry I’m not a good playmate. How’d you end up in here anyway? Aren’t they playing outside?” From the sound of Mia’s muted squeals, they were definitely up to something.

  Ryan leaned on the edge of the desk and stared out the window. “I’m ten. Been there. Done that. Besides, you’re the only one left. Mia’s got Neal wrapped around her finger….”

  Tell me about it.

  “Judah and Fallon are like brother and sister—well, maybe boy and great-aunt.”

  Dyanne couldn’t argue there. “So you’re left with me?”

  “Pretty much. You like books and you smell good. That’s a plus. And I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have an older sister.”

  In the years when her mother had lost so many little boy babies, Dyanne had wondered what it would have been like to be a big sister. She just wasn’t so sure that now was the time to find out. “Look, Ryan, you seem like a mature kid so I’m just going to shoot straight with you. I didn’t want to do this, look after you and your brothers and sisters.”

  “But you said it first—”

  She tried to overlook the frustration on the boy’s face. “I know. I wanted to help out on Sunday afternoon or something, but every day? No way. I’m drowning here. I’ve got this book to transcribe, covers to critique, book tour stops to confirm…. My back is against the wall and I just…can’t…get it all done!”

  The emotion in her voice surprised her. This should have been easy work. She’d tackled projects five times the size in less time before. But this wasn’t before, it was now. And she wasn’t holed up in some hotel with room service, she was home with Neal and dirty dishes and ringing phones and Fallon cooking and neighbors arriving…. Tears sprang up from some unknown well and poured down Dyanne’s face.

  “Now you’re probably wishing you were outside, huh? I don’t think I’d make a very good big sister. I don’t think I’d make a very good mother, either.”

  Ryan laughed. “Oh, you’d make a very good mother. You’ve already got the drama down pat.” He straddled the stool next to Dyanne and handed her a laminated note card before attacking Fallon’s already transcribed pages with a red pen.

  “Don’t! I have to mark those with proofreading symbols. Ugh…”

  Ryan went on, slashing phrases without mercy. “Got it. Mom used to be an English professor. She still teaches some summers. She wrote a book once. I helped Miss Hope edit it.”

  That stopped Dyanne cold. “Your mother wrote a book?”

  “Yes, my mother. She’s not the slug you think she is. Not hardly. You just caught her at a bad time. All of us really. Now read the card. Three times aloud. I should be done with these by then. We’ll start the covers next. The one in the middle is awesome but the others suck. Big time. Too busy.”

  Dyanne’s eyes widened. She’d thought the same thing herself. How a ten-year-old could know just what to say she wasn’t sure, but it seemed best to follow his advice. She held the card up in front of her and began to read:

  “I am strong, beautiful and created for the glory of God. Though I bend, I will not break. Though life often asks more than I can give, I will not give in. Blessing and wisdom flow from my mouth. Power and grace come through my body. My hands heal and comfort. I am quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to get angry. I do not need the counsel of man to obey the word of God. I have a secret place in the Most High. It is available to me always. God has given me a flow. He has made me a river. God is within me. I Will Not Fail. He will help me at the break of day.

  “I agree with what the word of God says about me and ask God to give me supernatural wisdom. May my family and I fulfill our eternal purposes in every word we say, every move we make. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

  By the time Dyanne had read it aloud the third time, the tears were flowing again. Ryan kept editing, but snatched a tissue from the box on her desk and handed it to her.

  “Thank you. Thank you so much. You wrote that, Ryan?”

  “No. My
mom did. It’s based on Psalm 46. She’s done tons of those. That one’s for emergencies. I figured you might need it so I brought it along.”

  This kid was going to make somebody a killer husband. “You knew?”

  He nodded. “I always know. Nobody listens to me, though. I get that. It’s part of being a kid. It’d save a lot of time if they listened. I tried to warn Dad about this Mom thing for months. It’s because of Faith the Second—my grandmother—you met her. Mom is always like this after she leaves. Miss Hope was usually over to our house double the usual time for the week after.” He passed a stack of pages to Dyanne. “Here. These are done. I’m going downstairs for a snack before we start on the book covers. Hungry?”

  Dyanne found her voice. “Starving.”

  Nowhere To Hide

  Folded into myself, looking for

  What You alone possess, I

  Can only find the corpses of my

  Long, lost dreams. Their

  Beauty faded, allure lost,

  They wait in the abandoned corners

  Of my soul, waiting for another

  Chance to ensnare me.

  You are waiting, too, pierced

  And poised, arms wide-open.

  No case to make, no questions

  To match my answers.

  Only true or false instead

  Of good, better, best. Only

  Here and there and everywhere.

  Nowhere to hide from Your love.

  —Karol, day 5

  Chapter Ten

  Having time alone wasn’t as easy as it seemed. The last time Karol and Rob had gotten a sitter, they’d gone to buy a microwave before dinner. They’d promised not to talk about the kids, but somehow Ryan came up during their hurried meal. She’d fallen asleep during the movie after seeing the ending from afar off. These afternoon times seemed much the same, so much bigger than Karol knew how to fill. She’d started with the gym, surprised to discover that their membership had not expired. Her courage, however, was in serious decline.

  “Good afternoon,” the receptionist said, looking at Karol over a fringe of spidery lashes that looked meticulously applied. Her body had the same wispy falseness, but the men in the room didn’t seem to mind.

  What am I doing here?

  Karol had asked herself the same question on the first day, when she had become painfully aware that her penchant for spandex and step classes had gone the way of the dinosaur. There was spinning, Latin dance, Pilates and all sorts of other stretchy limber things that Karol could never quite manage.

  She wasn’t giving up, though. Three times a week, she came here for an hour. Afterward, Karol had walked at the lake, gone to the library, taken a short-lived painting class, knit a baby blanket and gone to the pool, all by herself, and dived into the deep end. She’d had lunch with some of her old colleagues from Florida State, many of them now mothers themselves. She’d attended afternoon prayer at the church and visited new moms from the congregation who’d just given birth. Karol prayed more, praised more and pulled herself from place to place frantically trying to outrun the words swelling inside her, screaming to be written down. Trying to outrun her destiny.

  “Hey! There you are. I wondered if you’d make it,” a woman from the Latin dance class said, waving at Karol.

  Karol smiled and caught up with the lady, who she recognized from church. Had she been in that class the last time, when Karol made a fool of herself trying to swivel her hips like the exercise instructor?

  “I’m so glad you came back. It’s a blast. You looked like you were having a ball the other day, but you left before I could say hello.”

  Yep. She’d seen it all.

  Salsa music boomed from the stereo system as they entered the workout room. In the last class, Karol had been in the front row and come in early. She’d never looked back to see who was in the room. Now as she took in all the smiling faces and waving hands, she wanted to run back to her car. Almost the whole women’s ministry was here! And not the mom-kind, either. The pretty, poised church ladies who had sitters for everything, even their weekly hair appointments.

  “Got out from under those kids, I see,” a slim blonde said, clapping Karol on the back. “It’s about time. You’ll love it here. And we’d love to get to know you better. You and Hope were always so close. There was no getting between the two of you! Oh, class is starting.”

  As the music rose and their bodies dipped, Karol stared at the mirror. The woman in the back row, tall and brown, had her own face, but Karol wondered if she really knew that woman at all.

  After dance class, Karol joined the ladies for lunch, but she left long before they set out for the mall and the grocery store. She missed her children, her home. The very things she’d wanted to escape called to her now, blurring the words of these women who seemed so different from herself. But she tried to listen. She smiled as much as possible, knowing that something had changed and that no matter how hard she tried to swim back to the shore where she’d felt safe, she could never reach it because it no longer existed. With her own words, she’d washed it away.

  More than anything, Karol wished that she could take it all back. Every thought of running away, every feeling that being a mother was somehow not enough. Her heart broke thinking about how her children tiptoed around her now as though she were one of the china dishes so often broken in her own childhood home.

  The fear in their eyes scared her, too. She’d been so afraid that losing Hope had somehow meant losing herself, her ability to be a mother. Now Karol realized that her concerns had been misplaced. It was her own family that she needed to worry about. Rob was frazzled around the edges and quickly coming undone. And the only person she could discuss it with was ten years old and he was more than a little bit overwrought himself.

  Ryan was changing, his slim frame filling with muscle and wind, his angular, thoughtful face rounding with manhood. He’d even started growing his hair out into an Afro. Rob hated it at first, but they both had to admit it suited Ryan, who, like his mother, always seemed to thrive when going against the grain.

  That night, long after dinner and the reading of too many stories, Karol tiptoed to the kitchen to save the unwashed dishes left behind in Rob’s brilliant reenactment of the battle of Jericho during Bible time. When she entered, her son was already there, smiling shyly and running water.

  Karol grabbed a dish towel. The boy didn’t give his usual protest. It’d been a while since they’d been able to talk, just the two of them.

  She spoke first. “It’s too much for him, isn’t it? All this running around your dad is doing trying to take care of you kids, the house, his job…” Karol asked Ryan in the dim kitchen. Ryan had probably agreed to do the dishes tonight, but Karol figured he could use a little help. It didn’t hurt that it was keeping her sane, as well.

  Ryan yawned. “It’s too much but he’d never admit it. You started this. It’s going to have to play out to the end.”

  Karol tightened the belt of her robe and dried another dish. Her son was right and she knew it. Talking to him like this wasn’t something she’d done much before. She wasn’t sure it was the right idea now. Hope had warned about trying to be too chummy with your children. She was usually right about those kinds of things, but Karol didn’t know what else to do.

  “I wish that Hope was here,” she said into the darkness.

  “I’m glad she isn’t,” Ryan answered back.

  Karol almost dropped the dish in her hands. “What did you say?”

  She could see him shrug in the evening light coming through the window. “Look, Mom. I love Miss Hope. Mr. Singh, too. It’s just that, well, they’ve learned what works for their family. We need to do the same thing.” He turned off the water and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’m kind of glad to be able to just be myself. It’d be great if you and Dad would catch on.”

  Her heart pounded as she put down the dish and towel and gave her son a crushing hug. “Who are you and where have y
ou been all my life?” she asked with a laugh in her throat.

  “I’ve been right here, Mom. All the time. You just didn’t see me,” Ryan whispered, returning his mother’s hug just as his father walked into the kitchen.

  “Well, look at this. Kitchen elves and a group hug. I think I’ll join in.”

  As Rob wrapped his arms around them, the truth in her son’s words pierced Karol’s heart. She’d been so busy trying to be the perfect mother and wife that she’d forgotten that sometimes people—especially children—just need to know that someone sees them.

  I see you Ryan Andrew Simon. And God sees you, too.

  Things had been tense between Karol and Hope since Karol admitted that Rob had something to do with her friend moving away. Singh had had a part in it, too, but Hope didn’t seem to see it that way. Though her friend never said it directly, Hope seemed to be bearing a bit of a grudge against Rob, maybe Karol, too. In time, Karol thought that it would blow over, die down.

  She couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “So how long are you going to let this go on?” Hope sounded a little irritated on the other end of the phone.

  Karol tried to hide her surprise at her friend’s tone. “Until the twenty-one days are up, I guess. I’ve tried to get Rob to forget about it, but he won’t. He says that I have to fulfill my end of the bargain and find something I love to do.”

  Hope groaned. “Oh, please. You have lots to do—laundry, dishes, shopping, cleaning…Are you all doing that unit study I suggested? The one on insects?”

  Not this again. The two families had always studied things together in summer. But this time, it just wasn’t meant to be. They were doing a unit study on love, written by God Himself. “No. We’re not doing that, Hope. God has us doing His unit study right now. Mia’s having a ball with Neal. Judah is learning to be a gourmet vegan chef from a bestselling author and Ryan is basically doing a publishing internship with one of the top publicists in the country. I couldn’t have planned it any better if I’d tried.”