“You think? What's happened?”
This didn't sound good, but I'd heard so much from Emilie over the past couple of days I was prepared for almost anything.
“Can you come by my house? I just made some iced tea, and Em and Molly are at the movies.”
“As soon as I can get through traffic.”
I worried my way around Richmond and into Darla's suburb. She met me at the door, a strained look on her face.
“Wait'll I tell you about lunch with Merry yesterday.”
“She went out?”
If that were true, it would be the first time my daughter went to something other than a doctor's appointment or a therapy session with me driving.
“Not hardly. I took lunch to the house. We sat out on the patio like we used to.”
“Let me guess. Nothing you hoped for.”
“Not even close.”
Darla and Merry were alone for the first time since the night of the accident. Darla served lunch and settled down to eat. That is, Darla ate; Merry barely picked at the chicken salad.
“It felt so strange being alone with her.”
“I know what you mean.”
Merry could shut down when she didn't want to interact with someone. I was surprised she'd cut out her best friend, though. I thought it was only the kids and me.
“I told her I missed her. I might as well as have been reading the stock column from the paper. When she deigned to speak, it was to complain about everything.” Darla looked sad.
“Starting with me, I bet.”
“And about the kids. And about Whip. And about the way she looks.”
“Ah, the laundry list of what's wrong in Merry's world.”
“In spades. She started in on you, how she wants you to leave, and in the next breath how you need to stay because she needs help.”
“I've heard that too. Makes for a schizophrenic existence.” My conversation the evening before with Raney echoed through my overwrought brain. “I feel like a daisy: She wants me to leave, she wants me to stay. Either way, I disappoint half of what my daughter wants.”
“It's a lose-lose situation. Whether Merry likes it or not, Em's ecstatic you're here.”
“I know.” I loved being around Emilie, but she was becoming more dependent on me every day.
“Em talks about you all the time. You're lots more fun than her mother. When I told Merry, she yelled at me. I tried to get her to understand both kids need their mother. They need you too.”
“They need her more. I get it. I just wish Merry did.” I swirled the ice cubes in my tea.
“She claims you're at each other's throats all the time. Nothing she does is good enough.”
“That's partially true. I try not to be critical, but I can't change my stripes to plaid overnight. She carries a grudge like she did when she was a teen. I'm convinced it's part of her brain injury.”
“She said her face would never be the same. She feels hideous.”
“But she's not.” I couldn't understand my daughter's continuing belief that her face was horrible.
“It's how she feels, though. Right now, she's not the prettiest thing in Riverbend, but she will be again. I didn't recognize her right after the accident, but she's almost back to normal now. She feels like a freak, like everyone stares at her. She dared me to contradict her.”
“Everyone stares? Other than the family, her doctors and you, she hasn't seen anyone.” Where did Merry get that idea?
“It got worse. Merry thinks she's out doing normal things, like shopping, going for groceries, getting her hair done.”
“Only if I drive her. She hasn't been out of the house once without Whip or me. She doesn't drive.”
I had had no idea how deep Merry's hatred of her looks was. Whip could tackle that. Maybe if she had a bit more tweaking done to her face, she'd snap out of the doldrums. Or maybe not. Still, it was worth a try. “Thanks, Darla. I'm so grateful for the update.” I stood. “I have to talk with Whip.”
I pounced on Whip as soon as the kids went upstairs. I poured nightcaps and pointed to a chair.
“Sit.”
Whip took his drink and sat. “What's up?”
“My situation. Merry. The kids. Your role as their father.” I sipped my drink. “Where do you want to start?”
Whip waved a hand, which I took to mean “You choose.”
I pretty much dumped a load of options on the carpet between us. To give Whip credit, he listened without interrupting. When I took a breath, he ticked off the same four options Raney and I came up with.
“There are two more. Five, you could put Merry into drug rehab. Six, I could take her home. I guarantee she'd be in rehab in a New York minute.”
“Other than you staying, my life changes completely.” Whip rubbed his bristly chin.
“Earth to Whip. Your life changed the night of Merry's accident.”
Whip frowned. “It did?”
“It sure did. If I hadn't rushed back to Richmond, your new roles would be full-time caregiver and full-time father.”
“Already was a full-time father.”
“Bullshit. More to being a father than being a terrific provider. You've always been that. You've never been around all the time, though.”
“Guess I don't get your point.”
I forced myself to stay calm. Could Whip really be this obtuse?
“Go back to options one and two. I came here to take care of the kids until Merry came home. She's home. If I leave, and if Merry can't or won't snap out of it, you'll have to pick up the kids after school, cook and shop, help them with homework. That's being a full-time father.”
“That's what Merry does.”
“Wrong, pal. That's what Merry did. What she does now is lie in bed, drunk and stoned, feeling sorry for herself.”
Whip leaned back and closed his eyes.
I waited.
“What are you going to do?”
“Don't you dare shove your responsibilities on me. I'm not your wife.” My cheeks grew hot. “The question is, what are you going to do?”
“I don't know.”
“You have two weeks to come up with something we can all live with.”
I left Whip alone in the family room. He looked more forlorn than he had when Merry was in a coma. I was on the verge of sleep hours later when a wave of warmth, followed by an almost unconscious “Please don't leave” swept over me.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
After a restless night, I rose early and set out breakfast. Sundays were unscheduled, so those who were hungry wandered in at their leisure. I took my journal outdoors and spent an hour writing about my conversation with Whip.
No matter what Whip thought, the decision really was mine. Nothing short of him becoming a full-time, on-the-premises father relieved me of the responsibility of taking care of the kids. I was so not letting him off the hook without a fight. He needed to squirm and acknowledge what he was asking.
I went over the ideas Raney and I had kicked around and made up my mind. I had to provoke some kind of response, anything, to get Merry's attention. I planned to try the first of the halves: I'd tell Merry I was returning to New York. Permanently. If I could get her to understand she had to take charge, maybe I could also get her to admit she needed psychiatric help. That would be huge and just might put her on the road to recovery and me on the road home. I crossed my fingers and hoped tough love would work.
I returned to the kitchen to find an empty coffeepot. Breakfast dishes cluttered the sink. Someone had eaten. Several someones from the number of plates and bowls. I called up the stairs. Silence. Curious, I looked into the garage. Whip's truck was gone. Not again. Had he gone back to work instead of doing something with his kids? Then I saw the note on the kitchen table.
“Mad Max, Dad's taking us out for the day. I don't know where we're going, but I need to get away from Mom. Love you, Em.”
No sooner had I finished cleaning the kitchen than Merry struggled down the s
tairs. She was still in her nightgown, her hair uncombed, her eyes unfocused. She reeked of last night's booze. While I didn't think she drank this early, I was positive she was stoned on her morning breakfast of painkillers.
“What the hell do you think you're doing here?” The words were a slurred assault.
I struggled to keep calm and not round back on her with my usual stinging rebuke. “Making coffee.”
“I said, what the fuck are you doing?” Merry leaned against the doorjamb, one hand holding onto the knob.
“With that attitude, I won't tell you. When you're civil, we can talk. If not, you figure it out.” I set out two cups, cream and sugar, spoons and bagels on the countertop. I was starving, so I popped a bagel into the toaster.
Merry sniffed the toasting bagel. “Aren't you going to make me something to eat?”
“No. Have whatever you want.” I poured coffee and carried both cups to the table.
Merry wobbled across the kitchen and sat. She cradled the cup in both hands and raised it to her lips. Her hands trembled so much I was afraid she'd spill it.
Steady, old girl. Don't give in. “Now, what did you want to know?”
I kept my voice neutral, as I spread cream cheese and jam on half of my bagel and took a bite.
Merry watched my every move. “I want to know what you're doing.”
“Eating breakfast.”
After realizing I didn't fix her breakfast, Merry wrestled a bagel out of the bag and tried to slice it. I hoped she wouldn't cut a finger off. She mangled the bagel into two pieces small enough to fit into the toaster.
“I mean here in my house. What are you doing here?”
“I've been here for weeks taking care of you and the kids.” I finished my bagel and pushed the empty plate aside.
“Why don't you get out of my house?”
“Now that you bring it up, I will. I'm moving back to New York.”
“Wha-at?”
“You heard me. I'm going home. Time for you to take care of your family.”
“But, but I can't!”
“You tell me all the time you don't want me meddling. I'm taking you at your word.” I kept my head down and glanced at Merry's face through my eyelashes. She was deathly pale.
“I need help!”
“Not as much as you think. The therapist said you can drive. Go to the doctor. See what meds you can cut out. Take over the care of your children. Their entire schedule is on the calendar.” I waved at the bulletin board, which had long ago replaced the front of the refrigerator.
“I already do that. I take them wherever they want to go.”
Was she so spaced out she actually believed she was back to normal? This tracked with what Darla told me.
“What car are you driving?”
“You're so stupid. My Lincoln, of course.” Merry carried her half-burnt bagel to the table and reached for the cream cheese.
“Merry, you wrecked the Lincoln. Whip bought you the Infiniti you've always wanted.” I turned aside and blinked tears away.
“He did?”
“It's in the garage. Go look. Start cooking and helping the kids with their homework.”
Merry chewed, swallowed, and said nothing. Her brow furrowed.
“It's time you went back to being a wife and mother. Stop lying in bed all day drunk and stoned on drugs.”
Merry stared at the table.
Did she even understand?
Her voice rose, and she shouted I couldn't leave.
“You're not making sense. You want me to leave. Then, you don't. You can't have it both ways.”
“You're trying to control me. Just like always.”
I ignored her. “I'll talk to Whip about finding a caretaker.”
“I won't have some stupid stranger in my house.”
“Then take care of yourself, dammit. And your children. And your husband.” I put my dishes in the dishwasher and poured a refill of coffee to take upstairs.
Merry shouted after me. “Don't you dare leave, you bitch!”
Strike one. Threatening to leave didn't work. Time to think about the second half: a shrink.
I felt like howling when I called Raney.
“So, it's too much to expect Merry to take care of herself and her children.”
“Yes.”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
My two-week deadline still had more than a week left when Whip came into the family room after dinner and threw himself into his favorite chair. He had the telltale signs of getting ready to go away for a while.
“Okay, when are you going where?”
Whip jumped and had the decency to look guilty. Well, slightly guilty. “You remember Johnny Medina?”
“Of course. He's scared to death of me.”
I met Johnny years earlier. A partner in Whip's construction firm, I liked his solid common sense attitude toward life. He was funny too.
“He's got a fucked up job in Central America. Behind schedule. Thefts. Bureaucratic graft. Sabotage.”
“Only you can save the world, huh, John Wayne?”
“Something like that.”
“You're running away. Just say so.” I was angry enough to call Whip's bluff.
“And you don't?”
“Well, I want to run away too. How long this time?”
“About a week.”
“Okay. When you get back, it's decision time.”
Whip shied away from talking about Merry.
“I'll make you a deal. You go to Central America. Get some R and R. I'll take the kids to New York. We'll both get away from the problem.”
“What about Merry?”
“What about her? I'll leave plenty of food. She'll survive a few days alone. Think of it as a trial run. See if she can handle responsibility.”
Whip grinned. “Deal.”
“Don't get too comfortable. Think about putting Merry into rehab.” I rose and moved toward the door. “Think about treatment. You may have to commit her.”
And don't even think about staying in Central America forever. I'll find you. You won't like the consequences of getting stomped by Maxine Davies.
Once I told the kids I was taking them to New York, Alex wanted to leave immediately. Like, the next day. I had to be sure Merry had everything she needed first. I invited her to come with us, knowing full well she wouldn't go. Still, I made a feeble attempt at getting her out of her drunken, drug-befogged existence.
“Leave me alone.”
I took her at her word.
Alex sprang a list of everything he wanted to see and do on us at breakfast the day before we were to leave.
I bit back a laugh. “Hand it over. Hmm, Central Park. Can do. The Statue of Liberty. Can do. The Intrepid Aircraft Carrier. We'll see. Ground Zero. Let me think about that.”
“I really want to go to Ground Zero. It'd be so cool to look at the hole in the ground.”
“I'm not sure I want to go.” Emilie stared off into the distance. “So many people died.”
“It's been three years since the attack. Please, Mad Max, say we can go.”
“Maybe.” I didn't like turning what was left of the World Trade Center into a tourist attraction. “Back to your list. The White House and Air and Space. Can't do.”
“Why not?”
“They're in Washington, D.C., you idiot.” Emilie rolled her eyes.
“No name calling. He's not an idiot. You need to study geography, Alex. We'll start in Central Park with the zoo and the merry-go-round. We can take the subway to Battery Park and ride the Staten Island Ferry. Then we'll go to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island.”
I checked off a couple of items.
“What about you, Em? What do you want to do?”
“MoMA. The Natural History Museum. Maybe a Broadway play. A carriage ride.”
“Yuck.”
“Whoa, Alex. Em's going where you want. You can do the same. Besides, think of it
as a vacation with a twist.”
“What twist?”
“You'll learn something.”
“Double yuck.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
After trying to see and do everything on Alex's and Emilie's lists, we packed to return to Richmond. We had knocked all but the Intrepid off the lists. I ran out of energy to hike through an aircraft carrier-turned museum. I did relent, though, and took the kids to Ground Zero. We ate lunch in the Davies Enterprises cafeteria two blocks away.
“Wow! You can see everything from here.” Alex bolted from window to window. He pointed to places we'd visited. “Even the hole in the ground.”
“Were you here on September Eleventh?” These were the first words Emilie spoke since we arrived at Ground Zero.
“I was.”
Emilie threw her arms around my waist and buried her face in my shirt.
I decided to drive back to Richmond rather than fly. I wanted my car so I didn't have to rent one all the time. Alex pouted when I told him I didn't have a DVD player in my Jag sedan. I reminded him he had his iPod and several books.
“You can always look at the scenery, you know.”
“That's boring.”
“Could be, but we're going to drive.”
Emilie was happy. “It'll take more time for us to get home, won't it?”
“Sure will.”
Our vacation away from Merry had been a godsend. We called every day, but she never answered. Emilie said her mother was “fine.” At least we tried.
We hadn't been back two nights when cries came from Merry's room.
I climbed out of bed, my heart pounding, my mouth dry as a fart in a mitten. Was Merry having another nightmare? They'd become more frequent of late, just like they had after her father died. In a rare moment, she told me she suffered two recurring nightmares. In one, bright lights headed straight at her, blinding her, but she couldn't get out of the way. In the other, she looked everywhere for something she'd lost. She called and called, but no one answered. Which one was it tonight?
I walked into an empty, darkened hallway. I listened first at Merry's tightly shut door. Nothing. Maybe she went back to sleep. I peeked into Alex's room. He snored slightly, bathed in the blue glow of his computer screensaver.
Mad Max: Unintended Consequences Page 6
