A Month of Summer (26 page)

Watching him, I had a sense of what his childhood must have been like for Hanna Beth, what it must still be like. Life outside the yard on Blue Sky Hill was a minefield for Teddy, a difficult place filled with nuances he didn’t understand, unspoken rules he couldn’t comprehend. Don’t talk to strangers, don’t be too friendly, don’t yell in the parking garage. . . .

How would I feel if this were Macey’s life? I knew the dreams I had for my daughter, the enormous place she filled inside me, the satisfaction of watching her learn to walk and talk, master each new stage of development ahead of schedule. I knew the joy of taking her to her first day of school, of good report cards, and year-end awards for excellence at school. I knew the hope of watching her grow, of considering the idea of more children, imagining them being as beautiful, and accomplished, and perfect as Macey. How would I have felt if those illusions, that imagined reality, had been taken away from me by something completely beyond my control?

Perhaps the way I felt when I turned my head, sitting idle at the stoplight, and saw my husband holding hands with a client, leaning across the table toward her, gazing into her eyes. One minute my life was normal, fulfilling all my expectations. The next minute the pieces were everywhere, and I was looking at the wreckage, realizing my idea of a made-to-order life was no more than a game of let’s pretend.

Control is an illusion,
I heard Bree telling me in the car as she dropped me off at the airport.
You have to relinquish control of the universe. . . .

To whom? To the God we visited on Christmas and Easter when we were children? The God who promised atop the hospital chaplain’s newsletter as my mother lay dying,
I will never leave you nor forsake you
, but then remained conspicuously absent? Who wasn’t there when she suffered renal failure, when treatments were unsuccessful, when report after report delivered the worst possible prognosis? To the God who let my father’s mind degenerate, who filled Teddy with kindness so that other people could shun it? Who allowed Hanna Beth, the one person both my father and Teddy needed most, to be sidelined by a stroke, rendered useless and dependent herself?

If this was all some sort of plan, it was a bad plan. A stupid, stinking, rotten plan. So far, we were up to our necks in floodwater and the tide was rising. . . .

My stomach started churning, and I pushed away the pizza tray, the combination of tomato sauce, cheese, and greasy pepperoni burning in my chest. I sat back in the stiff, uncomfortable booth, the red vinyl squealing as I pulled my legs up underneath me, let my head fall back and closed my eyes, trying to decide what to do next. I felt as if my mind were in a million tiny pieces.

There was no good end to this problem, no neat little package into which my father, Teddy, and Hanna Beth could be placed for safekeeping, yet I had to figure out something, and I had to figure it out now. In a few days, my father would be released from the hospital. In a few weeks, according to Mary, Hanna Beth could recover to the point of coming home, provided there were some modifications to the house and special assistance was arranged. I couldn’t stay here forever. . . .

My mind drifted to my conversation with Mary in the hall outside Hanna Beth’s room. She’d asked if I’d made any progress in finding a caretaker.

I told her about the visit to Dr. Amadi, about putting my father in the hospital. I admitted that I didn’t know what to do next, or how to find someone to look after things at the house.

“I could do it,” Mary rushed out. The offer seemed spur-of-the-moment, careless and ill-considered.

I stood silent, taken aback. Did she feel obligated because I’d discussed the problem with her, or perhaps because she was Hanna Beth’s caretaker at the nursing home? “I didn’t mean to . . . ,” I said.

She focused on the rolled-up towel in her hands, clutched and unclutched it, her long, slim fingers disappearing into the white terry cloth. She continued on quickly, as if she’d anticipated my reaction and prepared herself for it. “I could start right away. My apartment lease is up this week, and I’m not . . . it’s . . . I know you probably didn’t want someone with kids, but the boys aren’t any trouble. They’re good kids. They mostly just play on their own, and they go to day care during the day, and I could . . . well, if you wanted someone to be there when I’m at work, I could share the apartment over your garage with Ifeoma. We work opposite shifts here, so we were thinking about getting a place together . . . to help with expenses. She’s got a little boy back home in Ghana, and she’s saving up to go and get him. She’s been living at the women’s shelter since she started work here, but her time there is up, so she has to go somewhere else.” She stopped finally, glanced up at me, then dropped her chin again as she waited.

I wasn’t sure what to say. On the one hand, there was the incredible temptation of quickly solving our problems by hiring someone who already understood Hanna Beth’s medical needs, who was apprised of my father’s situation and had experience working with Alzheimer’s patients, who had already seen the house and met Teddy. On the other hand, I couldn’t imagine bringing someone so young, so small and soft-spoken, with two little children, into the house. I had no idea how my father and Teddy would react to children living there full-time, or if the place was safe for them. Certainly, the way things had been these past few days bordered on insanity. Mary had no idea what she’d be getting into.

“It’s probably not a good—”

“You can think about it.” She cut me off before I could finish. “There’s no rush or anything. I just wanted to go ahead and bring it up, because I have to leave early today.” She paused to check her watch, and her hand slid into the pocket of her sweater, fingered a piece of paper there. “If you decide you’re interested, you can just let me know, and I’ll talk to Ifeoma. Like I said, she’s really trying to keep her expenses down.”

It crossed my mind that maybe this night-shift nurse, Ifoema, might be a possibility. “The apartment’s not very big—just a bedroom, a bathroom, a little storage room, a kitchen and the living room area,” I said, looking for excuses. “I don’t think it would be big enough. It wouldn’t be what you’d want.”

“We don’t need much space.” Mary was surprisingly forthright. She seemed almost desperate for me to agree. Something in her expression caused me not to turn her down out of hand.

“Let me take a few days to consider it and see how my father’s doing when he comes out of the hospital,” I said finally.

Chewing a fingernail that was already down to the quick, Mary nodded, fidgeting from one foot to the other. “It’d probably be better if you didn’t say anything to the administrator here. I mean . . . I can give you references and stuff, if you’re interested, but I don’t want my boss to think I’m quitting my job.”

“Sure,” I said, then she turned and headed off down the hall, leaving me to wonder about the motivation behind her offer. If she’d been a client in my law office for an initial interview, I would have hesitated to take her. Clearly, there was more going on than she was willing to reveal. . . .

Watching Teddy interact with the kids at the ski-ball games, I weighed the pros and cons again. Teddy would love having Mary’s little boys in the house. He could show them bird nests, hunt lizards with them, help build twig forts in the corners of the yard the way they had yesterday. Having something to occupy his time might help curb his obsession with benches and pots.

Teddy loved children. Playing ski-ball, he was in a state of pure joy, alternately making tosses, then stopping to clap and cheer for the kids around him. It was a far cry from the scene when we left the nursing home this afternoon. He’d clung to Hanna Beth, sobbing inconsolably for almost an hour.

I’d finally convinced him we had to go because the plants needed to be watered at home. Hanna Beth started to weep, and I could feel everything descending into an impossible chaos. Mr. Fisher passed in the hall and I asked him if he would sit with her for a while.

“I’d enjoy the chance,” he said, patting my hand and giving me a sympathetic smile, as if he were immune to the turmoil. Wheeling himself around the bed, he scooted between Teddy and Hanna Beth. “There, now, young fella. I’ll take over for a while. Your mama’s all right—she just wants to go home, but it ain’t time yet, and these doctors flat don’t let you out of here until they think it’s time. I been trying to convince them to let me go home, but they said I’ve got to wait a little longer and make sure this pacemaker’s gonna keep my ticker from gettin’ the hiccups, so here I am. I sure do miss my cats. I hope that little girl’s been feeding them. I wouldn’t want my cats to go hungry.” He tapped Hanna Beth’s arm with a forefinger. “There now, Birdie. You stop that cryin’, all right? You’ll get that woman in four-B started, and she’ll moan all night.” He took a tissue from the box, and wiped Hanna Beth’s cheeks. “Say, did I ever tell you about my trains?”

Hanna Beth started to laugh softly. Teddy tuned in to Mr. Fisher’s story about the trains. By the time it was finished, Teddy’s mood had changed. I took advantage of the opportunity to gather him up and leave for our trip to Wal-Mart and the pizza place. I promised to bring him back to see his mother tomorrow. As soon as I made the promise, I was filled with dread at the thought of keeping it. There was still so much to do.

Somehow, I had to stabilize the situation at the house and begin making plans for Hanna Beth to come home, but Mary wasn’t the answer. Teddy and my father, and eventually Hanna Beth, needed someone older, capable, firm, and no-nonsense. As good as Mary was with Hanna Beth, as much as she seemed to want and need the job, she wasn’t the right person. I couldn’t risk inviting any more problems in the door.

I convinced myself of the wisdom of saying no to Mary’s offer as Teddy and I drove home from the pizza parlor. Teddy happily investigated a marble maze he’d purchased with his ski-ball tickets. He was talking to the marble. My mind had drifted a million miles away.

“There go the turn, A-becca. There go the turn,” Teddy commented, his pointed finger moving slowly from the front to the back of the car as we passed the corner where the blue gingerbread house used to be.

“Shoot!” I muttered. All the way home, we’d been bumper to bumper in Friday evening traffic headed to the party spots on Lower Greenville, and now I’d missed the turn. The back of my neck tightened as I glanced in the rearview mirror, looking for a chance to move into the left lane. I was ready for this day to be—

A city bus pulled out in front of me without warning, Teddy screamed, and I hit the brakes. Gasping, I swerved to the side, narrowly missing the bumper. I ended up on the shoulder by a bus kiosk, the car vibrating to a stop, a wild pulse racing in my ears.

“Bad driver!” Teddy hollered, and shook a fist at the bus. I had a feeling he’d learned that from my father, only my father would have used more colorful language.

Swallowing a rush of adrenaline, I let the car drift into a parking lot and caught my breath. I was ready for this day to be over. I just wanted all of this to be over. I wanted to sleep in my own bed, get up, take Macey to school, go to work, come home, do all the normal things.

“Bad driver!” Teddy hollered again as he tried to roll down the window, which my father would have done in order to add an obscene hand gesture.

“It’s okay, Teddy,” I said. “It’s all right.”

“Hey, there Mama church!” Teddy pointed ahead to where a man in a green fishing hat was watching us from across the parking lot. In one hand he held a tall pole, and in the other he carried a cardboard box with SIGNS printed on the outside in large block letters. Lifting the pole in greeting, he waved toward the marquee, then started in the direction of an old white clapboard church that seemed out of keeping with the urban neighborhood.

“There Past-er Al!” Teddy tried to roll down the window again, waving and hollering, “Hi-eee, Past-er Al! Hi-eee, Past-er Al!”

Pastor Al disappeared around the corner, and I turned back to the sign, taking in the large lighted header that read, “Harmony Lane Chapel, Est 1906, Visitors Welcome.” Beneath that, the marquee added
, “
I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you. John 14:18.”

I let out a long breath and read the words over.

I closed my eyes and fell awkwardly into a prayer.
Please send me a sign. Please send someone who can help. Please take away this burden. . . .

Teddy’s attempts to open the car door pulled my attention away. “Teddy, don’t. Stay in the car.”

“I gone see Past-er Al!” Teddy said, struggling to unhook his seat belt. “I gone see Past-er Al!”

“We’re going home. Leave your belt on.” I put the car in Drive and turned toward the road again. I read the other side of the church marquee while waiting to pull into traffic.

“Happiness doesn’t grow where impatience grazes.”

There was no Bible verse cited, just “Pastor Al.”

I wish I could say that as we left the church behind I felt a sense of patience, of peace that was beyond understanding, but I didn’t. Peace, my spiritually seeking law clerk had pointed out, required faith.

CHAPTER 16

I woke in the morning with a sense of anticipation and began listening for Teddy’s footsteps coming up the hallway. Before leaving last evening, Rebecca had promised to bring him. She’d offered the commitment in desperation, to convince Teddy to cease causing an uproar and depart from the nursing center. She didn’t know that
tomorrow
didn’t mean much to him. Teddy lived in the moment.

Finally, it was Claude’s storytelling that had changed Teddy’s mood, brought peace to the room. The beauty of a world like Teddy’s was that sadness couldn’t stay long in it. He didn’t cling to pain, nurture and feed it the way most people do. It was natural for him to be happy, and so any little distraction could bring him back to joy. He left in a good mood after Claude’s visit. Now I struggled to console myself with the promise that Rebecca would bring him back today.