therealljidol Week 13: Love and Loss
therealljidol week 13: Love and Loss
Around 2220 Words
The minute I heard Dad’s car turn into the driveway I untangled myself from the boys and dashed down the stairs to meet him at the back door.
"How’s Ricky? How’s Bette? Is the baby okay? Can I make you something to eat?"
Dad sighed and gave me a quick hug. He looked a hundred years old and I felt myself choking up as he put his hand to his forehead and I saw he was shaking.
"Daddy?"
He hugged me again, tight. "Are you okay, honey?"
"We’re fine. I mean, well not fine, but we’re al-right."
"Bette’s with Ricky. She’s okay. I mean the baby’s fine and Bette’s injuries are superficial, but Ricky’s in a bad way."
"What happened? How did it happen?"
"All I got from what the police said was there was a drunk driver in a truck…he blew way over the limit...and the car’s totalled." Dad shook his head and sat down heavily on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I could use some coffee."
I pushed the "on" button on the coffee maker and got a mug out of the cupboard. I’d made sandwiches earlier, some tuna and egg salad the way Bette liked and put them in zip-lock bags. I got a couple out of the fridge and put them on a plate. When the coffee was ready I did it the way Dad-style, "two sugars, that’s all," and took everything over to him.
"They called me at work. No one said anything other than there had been an accident and that my wife and son were in an ambulance on the way to St. Pat’s. I couldn’t even remember how to get there. Bill drove me over in my car, then called one of the guys to pick him up after we knew what was going on."
He ate the sandwiches, but I don’t think he even noticed. One minute they were on the plate, the next they were gone.
I sat down across from him, "how’s Ricky, Daddy?"
"No change. The doctor said if the swelling doesn’t go down on it’s own they’ll have to operate. He’s banged up pretty bad, honey."
"He’s so little."
"Yeah, he is."
"Why don’t you go and have a shower. I put some things on the bed for Bette. A change of clothes, some other things she might need, and Ricky’s floppy dog. He’ll feel better if it’s with him. I know he says he’s too big for it now, but he still sleeps with it every night. Oh, and I called the school for the boys. Left a message saying they would be home tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"I left a message at my school too."
"Good. Okay."
Dad headed upstairs, a few minutes later I heard the shower going and set about putting the sandwich bags in a bigger bag, together with a few serviettes and some fruit. Remembered there were energy bars in the pantry and tucked a few of the nut butter ones in for Bette. Then I got Dad’s old thermos and filled it with what remained of the coffee. Bette always kept some creamers in the fridge along with little packets of condiments—she was super organized that way—I tossed a handful into the goodie bag along with some sugar packets. I tried to think. What else did Bette like, what else might she need?
///
I was in third period when I got called to the principal’s office. Tiff and I were arguing in relatively hushed tones about the attic room. Again.
"You’re such an idiot!"
"You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Yeah! I do! Your mom helped you decorate the room of your dreams when you were like eight or something. You’re fifteen now! You need a grown up room! Besides, we could have the coolest sleepovers in the attic. And with your own bathroom! Seriously Suze, you are an idiot! If I had the chance to have my own en suite and an attic bedroom designed and decorated just the way I wanted it I’d jump on it so hard you could hear me land in Alaska."
"They can hear you in Alaska anyway!"
"So not the point! Look, it’s not like you can’t move all the stuff your mom put in your bedroom upstairs. It would still be the same stuff—though, you should seriously consider a few upgrades. All I can say is I’m glad you weren’t into Hello Kitty." Tiff rolled her eyes.
No one can roll their eyes like Tiff. She has really big round doe eyes with huge long lashes and when she lets them roll it’s like a three-day event. And just when I was going to tell her it wouldn’t be the same an announcement came over the intercom, "would Suzette Mackenzie please come to the principal’s office, immediately."
"They’re probably going to suspend you for being so stupid," Tiff hissed at me as I gathered my books and backpack and headed for the door.
I turned and stuck my tongue out at her from the doorway, and Mr. Jenkins our English Lit teacher said, "lovely, Suzette, really lovely."
And that’s how I found out. The principal’s secretary told me that there had been an accident and I was to go straight home. She’d ordered a taxi for me and asked if I had enough to pay for it and when I told her no she gave me thirty dollars from petty cash that I had to sign for. I texted Tiff from the taxi to let her know I would call her later and I was home to receive Dad’s first call from the hospital and to be there for the boys when they got off their school bus around three-thirty.
Dad didn’t say much, just that there had been an accident and he was at the hospital with Bette and Ricky. He said he’d call me later, and he did, but he didn’t say much that time either. Dad isn’t a phone person.
///
When he came downstairs carrying an overnight bag, he looked a bit fresher, but his eyes were red and he was pale.
I put the goodies and the thermos into the overnight bag and waited.
"Yeah, keeping them home tomorrow, might be a good idea. I don’t want them hearing anything about it at school, at least not until we know more."
"What should I tell them in the morning?"
"What did you tell them earlier?"
"Well, we were doing homework when you called and then I made some supper, wieners and beans and scalloped potatoes from a packet. I know it’s not very nutritious, but it’s their favorite and I wanted them to eat something. Then after supper I told them that there had been an accident, that Bette and the baby were alright, but that Ricky wasn’t doing so well."
"How did they take it?"
"Sammy cried. So did Mike. Jake…well, you know Jake. He takes being the big brother very seriously. He tried to comfort his brothers, then he went into the bathroom and cried by himself. They had their baths and I asked if they wanted a story. They said they did, so I read them a couple of chapters from The Three Musketeers. Then Sammy asked if he could sleep with me and I said okay, then Mike asked and I said why don’t we all sleep together. So we call urled up in my bed and they fell asleep really fast."
"But you didn’t?"
"No. I got up and put the things together for Bette and made the sandwiches. Then I did homework for a while. I did fall asleep eventually, sort of. I was listening for the car."
Dad nodded. His gaze kept darting from this to that around the kitchen, like he was trying to remember something and I felt a horrible chill go through me.
"We said a prayer for Ricky, Daddy."
His gaze rested on me. "Can’t hurt."
"When will they decide if they’re going to operate?"
"In the morning," he looked at his watch. "In a couple of hours, I guess."
"Will you let me know?"
"Sure, honey. Bette will be grateful for all this. I am too."
"Daddy, I decided something tonight. Well, two things really. The first is I want to move up to the attic, if that’s still okay. Bette’s going to need to be close to Ricky, and of course the baby when it comes. The other thing is, I want to change my courses next semester."
Dad kind of shook his head and shrugged. "Yeah, the room is yours if you want it. We’ll talk about it later. Now’s not the time."
"I know, I’m sorry."
"No, it’s okay. What’s the other thing?" His hand inched up toward his temple and I felt the first stirrings of panic clutching at my throat.
"I want to switch to the science track. I want to be a doctor, I think. Can I use Mom’s money for that?"
He grabbed me and hugged me super tight and said, "You’re growing up so fast."
He sighed long and deep, "I’ll let you know in a couple of hours what’s happening."
And then he went back to the hospital.
I didn’t tell him that although I’d been thinking a lot about little Ricky and Bette, I’d also been thinking about Mom. What it was like when she went to the hospital for the last time, and how horribly quiet the house was when Dad and I came home, alone. It had been really hard in the beginning. Dad was…well, like he’d been hollowed out or something. He didn’t laugh or sing in the shower for like forever, and it was hard to talk to him because he’d just suddenly get up right in the middle of what I was trying to tell him and go upstairs, or out to the garage. It was like he couldn’t bare the sound of my voice. I was about Jake’s age, so I spent a really long time feeling confused and scared. Dad was never much of a talker, though he changed when he first started seeing Bette. It was as if she’d given him back time; he seemed lighter and younger somehow.
I could never tell him how terribly frightened I’d been by the way his eyes kept moving around the room like he was looking for something he’d misplaced when he came downstairs after his shower. I could never tell him because that was what he was like after Mom died. Like he’d lost something that he couldn’t quite remember, or that he was somewhere he didn’t quite recognize. It was so scary. I was so horribly scared most of the time for the first couple of years after Mom died, but I think maybe Daddy was too.
And now we were scared again.
I sat down at the kitchen table leaning my head on my arms and cried. I cried for Bette and for Ricky. I cried for my mom. I cried for my dad. I cried for myself, and how much I didn’t want my life to change so horribly ever again. I cried for what seemed like ages and then I felt an arm around my shoulders, kind of patting me.
Looking up, Jake was standing beside me patting my shoulder. I hugged him to me and we just cried together for a few minutes.
"Dad was here," I sniffled.
"When?"
I looked at the clock on the stove, "about an hour ago."
"Did he say anything about Rick?"
"The doctors will know what they’re going to do for him in a little bit. They’re waiting to see how much he can do for himself first."
Jake nodded seriously. "Rick is really strong, for a little kid."
"He is, isn’t he?"
"Yeah."
"You want something to eat?"
"Can I have some milk?"
"Sure. Today, you can have anything you want."
"Why?"
"Because I’m in charge."
Jake grinned.
The phone rang.
We both jumped.
I ran to pick up the receiver.
"Suzette?"
"Yes Daddy. Jake’s with me."
"Okay honey. Good news. The doctors say that the swelling is going down and that they won’t have to operate after all, but he’s still pretty sick. They’re monitoring him closely, but they’re optimistic. He’ll have to be here for a few days anyway, but it looks good, it looks really good, honey."
"Thank you, Daddy. Do you want to speak to Jake?"
"Sure, put him on."
I handed the receiver to Jake and he took it. He was so serious. His little brow was all scrunched up with worry. I watched as he listened to Dad and his face began to open up. He looked nine again. I said a little "thank you" in my heart for that and for Ricky.
"Why don’t we make pancakes for breakfast?" I asked him when he hung up.
"Okay." After a bit he said, "pancakes are Ricky’s favorite."
"I know," I said. "In his honor? For good luck?"
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let’s have pancakes for Ricky!"
Around 2220 Words
The minute I heard Dad’s car turn into the driveway I untangled myself from the boys and dashed down the stairs to meet him at the back door.
"How’s Ricky? How’s Bette? Is the baby okay? Can I make you something to eat?"
Dad sighed and gave me a quick hug. He looked a hundred years old and I felt myself choking up as he put his hand to his forehead and I saw he was shaking.
"Daddy?"
He hugged me again, tight. "Are you okay, honey?"
"We’re fine. I mean, well not fine, but we’re al-right."
"Bette’s with Ricky. She’s okay. I mean the baby’s fine and Bette’s injuries are superficial, but Ricky’s in a bad way."
"What happened? How did it happen?"
"All I got from what the police said was there was a drunk driver in a truck…he blew way over the limit...and the car’s totalled." Dad shook his head and sat down heavily on one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "I could use some coffee."
I pushed the "on" button on the coffee maker and got a mug out of the cupboard. I’d made sandwiches earlier, some tuna and egg salad the way Bette liked and put them in zip-lock bags. I got a couple out of the fridge and put them on a plate. When the coffee was ready I did it the way Dad-style, "two sugars, that’s all," and took everything over to him.
"They called me at work. No one said anything other than there had been an accident and that my wife and son were in an ambulance on the way to St. Pat’s. I couldn’t even remember how to get there. Bill drove me over in my car, then called one of the guys to pick him up after we knew what was going on."
He ate the sandwiches, but I don’t think he even noticed. One minute they were on the plate, the next they were gone.
I sat down across from him, "how’s Ricky, Daddy?"
"No change. The doctor said if the swelling doesn’t go down on it’s own they’ll have to operate. He’s banged up pretty bad, honey."
"He’s so little."
"Yeah, he is."
"Why don’t you go and have a shower. I put some things on the bed for Bette. A change of clothes, some other things she might need, and Ricky’s floppy dog. He’ll feel better if it’s with him. I know he says he’s too big for it now, but he still sleeps with it every night. Oh, and I called the school for the boys. Left a message saying they would be home tomorrow. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, yeah."
"I left a message at my school too."
"Good. Okay."
Dad headed upstairs, a few minutes later I heard the shower going and set about putting the sandwich bags in a bigger bag, together with a few serviettes and some fruit. Remembered there were energy bars in the pantry and tucked a few of the nut butter ones in for Bette. Then I got Dad’s old thermos and filled it with what remained of the coffee. Bette always kept some creamers in the fridge along with little packets of condiments—she was super organized that way—I tossed a handful into the goodie bag along with some sugar packets. I tried to think. What else did Bette like, what else might she need?
///
I was in third period when I got called to the principal’s office. Tiff and I were arguing in relatively hushed tones about the attic room. Again.
"You’re such an idiot!"
"You don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Yeah! I do! Your mom helped you decorate the room of your dreams when you were like eight or something. You’re fifteen now! You need a grown up room! Besides, we could have the coolest sleepovers in the attic. And with your own bathroom! Seriously Suze, you are an idiot! If I had the chance to have my own en suite and an attic bedroom designed and decorated just the way I wanted it I’d jump on it so hard you could hear me land in Alaska."
"They can hear you in Alaska anyway!"
"So not the point! Look, it’s not like you can’t move all the stuff your mom put in your bedroom upstairs. It would still be the same stuff—though, you should seriously consider a few upgrades. All I can say is I’m glad you weren’t into Hello Kitty." Tiff rolled her eyes.
No one can roll their eyes like Tiff. She has really big round doe eyes with huge long lashes and when she lets them roll it’s like a three-day event. And just when I was going to tell her it wouldn’t be the same an announcement came over the intercom, "would Suzette Mackenzie please come to the principal’s office, immediately."
"They’re probably going to suspend you for being so stupid," Tiff hissed at me as I gathered my books and backpack and headed for the door.
I turned and stuck my tongue out at her from the doorway, and Mr. Jenkins our English Lit teacher said, "lovely, Suzette, really lovely."
And that’s how I found out. The principal’s secretary told me that there had been an accident and I was to go straight home. She’d ordered a taxi for me and asked if I had enough to pay for it and when I told her no she gave me thirty dollars from petty cash that I had to sign for. I texted Tiff from the taxi to let her know I would call her later and I was home to receive Dad’s first call from the hospital and to be there for the boys when they got off their school bus around three-thirty.
Dad didn’t say much, just that there had been an accident and he was at the hospital with Bette and Ricky. He said he’d call me later, and he did, but he didn’t say much that time either. Dad isn’t a phone person.
///
When he came downstairs carrying an overnight bag, he looked a bit fresher, but his eyes were red and he was pale.
I put the goodies and the thermos into the overnight bag and waited.
"Yeah, keeping them home tomorrow, might be a good idea. I don’t want them hearing anything about it at school, at least not until we know more."
"What should I tell them in the morning?"
"What did you tell them earlier?"
"Well, we were doing homework when you called and then I made some supper, wieners and beans and scalloped potatoes from a packet. I know it’s not very nutritious, but it’s their favorite and I wanted them to eat something. Then after supper I told them that there had been an accident, that Bette and the baby were alright, but that Ricky wasn’t doing so well."
"How did they take it?"
"Sammy cried. So did Mike. Jake…well, you know Jake. He takes being the big brother very seriously. He tried to comfort his brothers, then he went into the bathroom and cried by himself. They had their baths and I asked if they wanted a story. They said they did, so I read them a couple of chapters from The Three Musketeers. Then Sammy asked if he could sleep with me and I said okay, then Mike asked and I said why don’t we all sleep together. So we call urled up in my bed and they fell asleep really fast."
"But you didn’t?"
"No. I got up and put the things together for Bette and made the sandwiches. Then I did homework for a while. I did fall asleep eventually, sort of. I was listening for the car."
Dad nodded. His gaze kept darting from this to that around the kitchen, like he was trying to remember something and I felt a horrible chill go through me.
"We said a prayer for Ricky, Daddy."
His gaze rested on me. "Can’t hurt."
"When will they decide if they’re going to operate?"
"In the morning," he looked at his watch. "In a couple of hours, I guess."
"Will you let me know?"
"Sure, honey. Bette will be grateful for all this. I am too."
"Daddy, I decided something tonight. Well, two things really. The first is I want to move up to the attic, if that’s still okay. Bette’s going to need to be close to Ricky, and of course the baby when it comes. The other thing is, I want to change my courses next semester."
Dad kind of shook his head and shrugged. "Yeah, the room is yours if you want it. We’ll talk about it later. Now’s not the time."
"I know, I’m sorry."
"No, it’s okay. What’s the other thing?" His hand inched up toward his temple and I felt the first stirrings of panic clutching at my throat.
"I want to switch to the science track. I want to be a doctor, I think. Can I use Mom’s money for that?"
He grabbed me and hugged me super tight and said, "You’re growing up so fast."
He sighed long and deep, "I’ll let you know in a couple of hours what’s happening."
And then he went back to the hospital.
I didn’t tell him that although I’d been thinking a lot about little Ricky and Bette, I’d also been thinking about Mom. What it was like when she went to the hospital for the last time, and how horribly quiet the house was when Dad and I came home, alone. It had been really hard in the beginning. Dad was…well, like he’d been hollowed out or something. He didn’t laugh or sing in the shower for like forever, and it was hard to talk to him because he’d just suddenly get up right in the middle of what I was trying to tell him and go upstairs, or out to the garage. It was like he couldn’t bare the sound of my voice. I was about Jake’s age, so I spent a really long time feeling confused and scared. Dad was never much of a talker, though he changed when he first started seeing Bette. It was as if she’d given him back time; he seemed lighter and younger somehow.
I could never tell him how terribly frightened I’d been by the way his eyes kept moving around the room like he was looking for something he’d misplaced when he came downstairs after his shower. I could never tell him because that was what he was like after Mom died. Like he’d lost something that he couldn’t quite remember, or that he was somewhere he didn’t quite recognize. It was so scary. I was so horribly scared most of the time for the first couple of years after Mom died, but I think maybe Daddy was too.
And now we were scared again.
I sat down at the kitchen table leaning my head on my arms and cried. I cried for Bette and for Ricky. I cried for my mom. I cried for my dad. I cried for myself, and how much I didn’t want my life to change so horribly ever again. I cried for what seemed like ages and then I felt an arm around my shoulders, kind of patting me.
Looking up, Jake was standing beside me patting my shoulder. I hugged him to me and we just cried together for a few minutes.
"Dad was here," I sniffled.
"When?"
I looked at the clock on the stove, "about an hour ago."
"Did he say anything about Rick?"
"The doctors will know what they’re going to do for him in a little bit. They’re waiting to see how much he can do for himself first."
Jake nodded seriously. "Rick is really strong, for a little kid."
"He is, isn’t he?"
"Yeah."
"You want something to eat?"
"Can I have some milk?"
"Sure. Today, you can have anything you want."
"Why?"
"Because I’m in charge."
Jake grinned.
The phone rang.
We both jumped.
I ran to pick up the receiver.
"Suzette?"
"Yes Daddy. Jake’s with me."
"Okay honey. Good news. The doctors say that the swelling is going down and that they won’t have to operate after all, but he’s still pretty sick. They’re monitoring him closely, but they’re optimistic. He’ll have to be here for a few days anyway, but it looks good, it looks really good, honey."
"Thank you, Daddy. Do you want to speak to Jake?"
"Sure, put him on."
I handed the receiver to Jake and he took it. He was so serious. His little brow was all scrunched up with worry. I watched as he listened to Dad and his face began to open up. He looked nine again. I said a little "thank you" in my heart for that and for Ricky.
"Why don’t we make pancakes for breakfast?" I asked him when he hung up.
"Okay." After a bit he said, "pancakes are Ricky’s favorite."
"I know," I said. "In his honor? For good luck?"
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, let’s have pancakes for Ricky!"