All in the Family

by Heather Graham

  “Jarod!” Kelly called.

  He looked back at her, and sorrow flashed through his eyes. He started to walk away, then came back. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, looking at her anxiously, but then he stood.

  “Are you okay, Mom? I’m sorry. I’ve never been so sorry about anything in my entire life. Honest to God. But I’ve got to go. I have to see her. I have to see Sandy. She’s—she’s pregnant. She’s going to have my baby. I have to see her. Can you understand?”

  He kissed her forehead again, then started for the door to catch up with Marquette.

  “Jarod, wait! This is serious! We have to talk. We have to—”

  “Mother, please! I just have to see that Sandy is all right! I’ll be back, I promise, and then we’ll talk.”

  The door banged. Kelly was on her feet, her fury aimed at her only child, but standing made her dizzy, and she had to drop back to the couch. She could see them through the window, though: her tall, handsome son, and the even taller red-haired man. Leaving together.

  “Jarod, I’ll…I’ll clobber you for this!” she swore. But of course she wouldn’t clobber him. She’d never clobbered him. And he’d been way too big for ages, anyway.

  She poured herself more brandy and gulped it down.

  “Oh, Jarod!” she whispered. She stood again, and began pacing the room, still half in shock. She tried to retrace everything that had happened. Marquette bursting in like a maddened lunatic with his accusations…

  Accusations that were in part true. She’d heard it straight from Jarod’s own lips.

  Kelly finished off the brandy as she continued to pace. She barely noticed the dull ache in her jaw.

  Jarod—and Marquette! Standing up at the end and acting so damn noble. Sorry, I’ll call you. Then walking out, after everything he had caused.

  Kelly moved to the couch, poured another brandy and sank back on the cushions. She stared blankly out the windows.

  “Jarod. Jarod, Jarod, Jarod.”

  And then she started to think about Marquette again.

  She threw her glass across the room into the fireplace, gritting her teeth at the sound of the shattering glass.

  “Damn you, Jarod! If you had to get a girl pregnant, couldn’t you have picked one with a different father?”

  Then she started to laugh, because the thought was so ridiculous. And then, all alone, she started to cry.

  Because it was just like history repeating itself, and she didn’t know if she sympathized more with her own son—or with the girl she had never seen.

  CHAPTER 2

  Kelly remained on the couch, stunned, for several minutes. Then she remembered that in the midst of this tempest they had both seen fit to walk out on her. Even her own son, after half crushing her jaw, had gone running out.

  That made her mad. She forgot about her pain and began to storm around the house ranting. That lasted awhile, and then she thought again of the seriousness of the whole thing and burst into fresh tears.

  In the end, she returned to her drawings. She turned Daryl the Devilish Dragon into a new type of monster—one with Marquette’s face—and she let Esmeralda, the Fairy Queen, chase him around with a fat wooden spoon, catch him, tie him up and clobber him.

  Of course, she really needed to get some real work done. And letting Esmeralda behave so violently would never do. But it had felt awfully good for the moment.

  “Work!” she murmured aloud disgustedly. Who the hell could work when she had just discovered that her teenage son was about to get slapped with a paternity suit?

  She threw down her pencil and went to the den, her temper flaring anew at the thought that she had watched them both go, just like a bump on a log. She didn’t even have the faintest idea of what Sandy Marquette was like. What she looked like, how she sounded—Kelly didn’t know anything about the girl at all.

  She pressed her lips together grimly and picked up the phone book with determination. But no Marquette was listed. She tried information for his phone number and address, but the operator was unable to help her. Her anger against him grew. Who did he think he was, demanding an unlisted number?

  But just when she thought she would scream and run out into the street and start going door to door, the front door opened and Jarod came into the house.

  He looked dazed. Starry-eyed. He was even smiling. Not a big, wide smile. A dizzy type of smile. He was completely gone over this girl who had just destroyed his life. Kelly wanted to slap him, wanted to slap that silly grin off his face.

  She set her hands on her hips and stared at him coolly. But before she could talk, he came closer and knelt before her, taking her hand in a manner so touching that all her anger escaped and she felt again the deep chill of sorrow.

  “Mom, I am sorry, very sorry, for the way I’ve disappointed you,” he said softly.

  She jerked her hand away. She couldn’t be soft—not now. Not when he was behaving like such a fool.

  “Jarod, really, get off the ground, please!” He did, and she discovered herself growing annoyed all over again. He didn’t seem to realize what he had done at all. He was sorry, but not for the deed, or even for its repercussions. He was only sorry because she was upset.

  “Jarod—” she began. She turned away from him and lowered her head, suddenly acutely tired. “Jarod…don’t you understand? Don’t you see what you’ve done?”

  It took him a long while to answer.

  “I love her, Mom,” he finally said softly. She didn’t say anything, and he hesitated again. He didn’t fidget, though; he didn’t even seem uncomfortable. He was just standing his ground. Not a boy, very much a man.

  “Mom, you don’t know her. You have no right to judge her.”

  “I’m not judging her! If she were as saintly as Joan of Arc, you’d still be in the middle of a disaster!”

  “A child isn’t a disaster, Mother.”

  Great. All she needed was Jarod preaching to her—and sounding ridiculously wise.

  “Jarod, you’re not thinking. I know a child isn’t a disaster. It is a tremendous responsibility. A baby makes a new ball game out of driving to the store for milk. A baby is constant, Jarod. It won’t wait, unattended, while you go to school, to football practice, to a concert with your friends. Then there are the hospital costs, the pediatrician, the diapers—”

  “Mom, I know all that!”

  “And?” She turned around, one brow arched.

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  “You’re not even out of high school!”

  Kelly didn’t want to scream; she really didn’t want to get hysterical. She didn’t want to alienate him—she wanted to help him. But he was being so blasé!

  He returned her stare evenly. “When the baby is born, I’ll be out of high school.”

  She swallowed sharply. “College lies ahead of you, Jarod. Four years of it.”

  He shrugged. “If I have to wait, I will.”

  “What will you do in the meantime?”

  “Get a job.”

  “Doing what? Doing what?” Her voice was rising again. She tried to lower it; she was going to cry again. “Cook at a hamburger joint? That will barely cover the hospital costs if you work nine to five for months!”

  His jaw tightened. Kelly lowered her eyes, biting her lip. He knew it. He knew everything that she was going to say—and he would stand his ground.

  “Oh, Jarod. And what about Sandy? Think about her for a moment. At a ridiculously young age she’s going to be saddled with an infant. Suppose she’s home with the child while you’re off frying hamburgers? What if they won’t let her finish high school? What about college for her? What about her dreams? What about—”

  “Do you want Sandy to get an abortion?” Jarod broke in coolly. Very coolly.

  She winced, closing her eyes, gritting her teeth. No, she didn’t want that. She didn’t exactly know why, but she couldn’t bear the thought. Still, this wasn’t her life they were discussing. It was Jarod’s life, and Sa
ndy’s.

  “Mother?” he pressed softly.

  “Don’t Jarod. Don’t push me. I’m not saying that. Besides, what I want doesn’t matter. What’s best for the both of you is what matters.” She hesitated, for just the slightest second “Jarod, you’re sure? You’re absolutely sure that Sandy is pregnant, and you’re sure that—that it’s yours?”

  “Yes!”

  “I’m not attacking her, Jarod,” Kelly told him wearily. “I don’t even know the girl.”

  She started to laugh, then. Laugh and feel so weak that she had to sink into a chair.

  “I don’t even know her! You’ve had this great affair going on for who knows how long now, and I’ve never even met the girl!”

  “Mom—”

  Jarod looked uncomfortable at last. He folded his hands, unfolded them helplessly, folded them again. He looked around, distressed, while she laughed. “Mom,” he said worriedly, “want a drink? Some tea. Maybe I should make some tea.”

  She waved a hand at him. She was still laughing, yet tears were squeezing out of her eyes. “Oh, Jarod! We’ve talked…you and I! I always thought we had such good discussions. I knew you were going to grow up, that you’d eventually become involved. I just—I thought I’d taught you to be smart!”

  He flushed, suddenly looking like a boy again—in contrast to the man he was fast becoming. Damn, Kelly realized, watching him. He’d gotten so old! When, how, had she missed it? He’d outsized her for years, but now everything about him seemed so much—older. More mature. His face, the way he stood, the way he moved. She felt ancient.

  He sighed, and they stared at each other. “We were smart. Just not—not the first time.”

  “Oh,” she said simply.

  “I never meant to seduce her.”

  “Maybe that’s because she seduced you.”

  He didn’t answer that—though he probably longed to do so! But she was his mother, and even in his state of blissful infatuation he seemed to remember that.

  And she was taking unfair shots. Sarcastic shots. She owed him more than that. She’d kept their relationship strong for all these years by being honest, by being fair. Since he’d been a little boy, she’d always been careful to listen to him, really listen. She always tried to explain when she said no.

  Most of the time, anyway. She was human, and she’d also said “Because I said no, what’s why!” But not often.

  She lifted her hands weakly and shook her head, giving him a rueful smile. “I’m still in shock, Jarod. I’m not thinking very well. You know—” She hesitated, biting her lip. “You know that I’m going to help you, whatever you decide, in any way that I can. We’ve just got to—well, we’ve got to really discuss it.”

  “Mom…”

  His voice was very soft, and he was on his knees again, beside her chair, and they were hugging each other. She found that she was crying again, smoothing back his beautiful blond hair. “I just had such dreams for you! And maybe that wasn’t fair. I can’t dream your dreams for you—that’s your own right. But, oh, Jarod, the opportunities that were opening for you! Maybe they’ll still be there, maybe it can work out, maybe…”

  Her voice trailed away. Maybe. Oh, God, he just didn’t see it! College alone was such a horrible expense, even with a scholarship. And now a baby, too….

  Jarod looked up at her, taking both of her hands in his. “I love you,” he told her. “I didn’t want to leave you, but had to. I had to see Sandy. They way her father came in…well, I had to tell her that she wasn’t alone. That I really loved her. That I’d never cop out on her.”

  Kelly nodded feebly.

  “It’s going to be okay.”

  She laughed. “I’m the parent. I think I’m supposed to be saying that to you, except that—” She cut herself off sharply. He’d find out soon enough if they went through with a marriage and the birth of their child. They’d find out how hard it was to have an infant and nothing else in the world, to be scratching for change just to get to eat once in a while.

  He didn’t say anything to her; he just squeezed her hands and stood up. “I wish I could say something to help.”

  “I wish I could,” she told him quietly.

  He grinned suddenly. “You might be a grandmother before your thirty-sixth birthday. The town will really talk!”

  Kelly cast him a warning glare. “That didn’t help one bit, Jarod, and I’ll thank you not to tell me that again!”

  He laughed, but she didn’t care. She’d get hysterical again. She shook her head, trying to clear it. “Really, we’ve just scratched the surface here. There’s so much that you have to think about, and honestly, Jarod, you’re not being fair if you don’t give Sandy a chance to consider the options, too. We’ve—”

  “We’re going to talk. All of us, okay?”

  “All of us?” Kelly frowned.

  “Sandy—oh, wait till you meet her. She’s wonderful! Me, you, Mr. Marquette.”

  “What about Sandy’s mother?”

  “She doesn’t have one.”

  “Everyone has a mother. Are they divorced, or is she dead?”

  “I don’t know. I just know that she doesn’t have a mother right now. Just her father. And he’s asked me and you over for dinner tomorrow night. It’s a Friday, so Sandy and I won’t have to worry about school the next day. It’s the next step. Mr. Marquette said so.”

  “Mr. Marquette said so,” Kelly mimicked maliciously.

  “Mom—”

  “Well, at lest you’re not calling that awful man ‘Dad’—yet,” Kelly murmured. She stood up before he could protest. “Go do your homework. You’re still under eighteen, so I’ve still got my legal claws in you, and you’ve still got school tomorrow. Just because you’ve decided to run around making young innocents pregnant is no reason to stop going after those scholarships. In fact, it’s all the more reason to work hard. So move. Now.”

  “Mom!”

  “What?”

  He had started up the stairs, but now he turned toward her, and for a minute he looked so mischievous that she was tempted to swat him.

  “I don’t run around making young innocents pregnant. Only one.” He grinned.

  “Go on, laugh!” she warned him seriously. “Jarod, you’re in deep trouble, my love. You haven’t even begun to realize just how deep.”

  His smile faded, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, yet reproachful and challenging. “Was I a ‘disaster,’ Mother?”

  She bit her lip and didn’t feel the pain, didn’t realize until later when she tasted it that she had drawn blood. She felt the color drain from her cheeks, but she didn’t look away from him, and it was her turn to answer coolly.

  “Maybe I’ve been too honest with you, Jarod.” She turned and left the room.

  “Mom wait!”

  He tried to call her back; he even started down the stairs. But Kelly had already retreated, stiff-backed, into her office, where she slammed the door, then locked it.

  She sat down in front of her pictures, and started to cry again. It didn’t seem fair. It just didn’t seem fair. You worked so hard, tried so hard, and you just couldn’t keep your children from repeating your own mistakes.

  She stopped crying as numbness settled over her. She picked up her pencil. Her pictures of Marquette as Daryl were staring her in the face. Despairingly she tossed them to the floor and started over again.

  She had to get her work finished. She had to. It was even more imperative now that she turn in quality material on time, and without the least hitch.

  She was going to help Jarod and Sandy. If they chose to marry and have the child, she was going to help them as much as she could. They’d still have a hard, hard road.

  Finally she was able to let her fingers take over, let them command her mind. Daryl had been backed up against the wall by the followers of the Fairy Queen; he knew he had no escape. Humbly he knelt before her; mercifully she decided not to throw him into the bottomless pit for all eternity.

 
* * *

  Dreams, Kelly decided, were the strangest things, for even as she dreamed, she knew that it wasn’t real, that it was a dream.

  It began with the most beautiful swirl of mist, silver mist, going in circles, rising. And when the mist had risen she saw the ice: hard, sleek ice, covering the pond in the deep freeze of winter. She heard the sound that only skates can make over ice, and she saw them, herself and David, as they had been that day….

  He had been a lot like Jarod. The same age, the same vitality. The same smile. And she had watched him. Watched him skating. Sliding gracefully, moving with supreme ease. Moving like magic across the ice, his smile touching her, her lips returning that smile….

  She could see the two of them, when the ice show was over, talking and laughing. They had gone into Charleston to buy hamburgers and fries, and they hadn’t touched, either. She barely remembered what they had said to each other. She could remember the feeling. The absolute longing.

  She could remember going to the cabin, and laughing as she held out her hand, and the doe, not shy in the least, had come forward to nuzzle the peanuts from her palm.

  And then they’d gone inside, where David had built a fire. She would never forget staring into his eyes in front of that fire, never forget how…

  Kelly tossed and turned, then woke up with a start and stared into the darkness. She tossed her blankets aside and jumped to the floor, then went running down the hallway to Jarod’s room.

  He wasn’t sleeping, though it wouldn’t have mattered to her if he had been. Kelly flicked on the light and stared at her startled son.

  “It was the cabin!” she accused him. “You went to my cabin!”

  He didn’t answer, his cheeks turned red.

  “How could you?” Kelly asked reproachfully. “It was my cabin!”

  “Mom,” Jarod hesitated, “it was Dad’s cabin. It isn’t a shrine or a temple or anything. He would want—he would want us to use it, to be happy there.”

  “Not as ecstatic as you were!” Kelly said dryly. Jarod lowered his head, and she could see that he was trying to hide a grin. She knew exactly what he was thinking: You and Dad were pretty ecstatic there, too, huh?