Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (15 page)

I dug out a book Richard sent along,
Digging For Dinosaurs
. I needed to bone up. Maybe if I showed an interest Meggie would catch the bug. I hadn’t thought about dinosaurs much, but after reading for a while I decided we’d need to take the kids on vacation to Dinosaur National Park in a few years. The middle of the country had been an inland sea. That explained a lot about how it looked from the air, like the tide had just gone out.

Jon was waiting at the exit gate and Meggie went right for him. He scooped her up and hugged their blonde heads together. He looked like he was sniffing her, but maybe he was just kissing her. His eyes smiled at me over the top of her head.

He was wearing an old shirt that he’d worn the first night we went out. I’d blabbed all kinds of stuff like you do when you’re on vacation and eating with a man you’ll never see again. After that it was too late to be cagey so we just forged ahead telling each other the truth. Until now.

He put his mouth to my ear and said, “Hi.” His voice set off a ping below my belly button.

“Here, take Chance,” I said. “I need to open the stroller.”

I tried to avoid eye contact, but he just kept smiling. The way he was happy was so damn annoying. He knew I loved him. So so annoying. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me into his hip.

“That okay?” he asked.

“Damn it, Jon.”

“It’s okay.”

“It is not,” I said.

“Yeah. It is.”

Meggie talked the whole way home. Two weeks with two kids, and my arms were in a permanent hug. We took the kids in the water. I floated with Meggie on my belly. Jon did the same with Chance. Meggie always stayed stiff, like I’d let her drown. Chance lolled, even with the occasional water that lapped into his eyes and mouth. We told Meggie we were a whale family.

Jon put the kids down while I went in the kitchen to dish dinner. He came up behind me at the counter, slid my dress up and pulled down the top of my underpants.

“What are you doing?” I asked. “That’s so inappropriate. You can’t just do that.”

He was quiet behind me while his finger traced the tattoo. He hadn’t commented on the baby tats. He reached around me and flipped off the light over the sink, then put his arm around my waist and walked me with him to the other light switch and flipped it off. It wasn’t until he walked me into the kitchen table that I knew what he had in mind.

“It’s for Mike,” I said.

“Shhh. No talk now.”

So that was it. The stubborn man had his way. We did talk. He talked to Jesus and Hannah, pretty much interchangeably. He threw in okay a few times. He’s big on okay. I went old school with permutations of oh god Jon, Jon oh god, god oh Jon. It wasn’t scintillating dialogue, as they say, but it was nonstop action.

I was folded over the kitchen table looking at a nightlight illuminated papaya, a stack of mail, and his keys. His face was buried in my neck. His heart beat vibrations up and down my spine.

“You hate tattoos,” I said.

He laid his cheek on my shoulder and his tears ran down my neck.           

“I thought you were going to leave me.”

“I still might,” I said.

He didn’t get to be the only stupid stubborn person in the family. He pulled me up, turned me around and hugged me close. I was glad for the darkness. Our state of undress would have been comical to anyone who happened up to our kitchen door. He kissed my ear, my eyes, my mouth. I finally gave in and kissed him back. We were doing the film in reverse. It started with the throw down and ended with the mushy stuff.

We got dressed in the dark and quiet, and then dished up dinner, split a beer and went out on the lanai to eat. I lit a hurricane lamp. Neither of us wanted light or language shed on the night. We got in bed, curled up together and went to sleep. The family slept through the night to the sound of surf and wind chimes.

Jon had left a note the next morning: Meggie was at work with him. I got the makings for Sherry’s pie package, and then headed to the restaurant to get her out of his hair. She was in a booster seat humming and coloring, her happy moon leg swung back and forth. A flowered leash looped around Jon’s neck to his half reading glasses covered with her fingerprints. She played with them when he picked her up. He was going over food and alcohol orders. I could see him doing the same thing with Chana.

“Do you think you can do this again with two?” I asked.

“I can if you want to work. We’ll get help.”

“Marty said a film would be best in the long run,” I said. “There’s one prepping now, but it’s in the Amazon. I’d have to be willing to catch malaria. There’s a lot of talk about Hawaii.”

“That would be convenient. Phil’s training a new manager. Good guy who wants to move up. It should be pretty seamless. I won’t need to be over there much once he gets locked in.”

“What happened?” I asked.

“Let’s talk about it at home.”

“Can Meggie knock off for the day? Chop came looking for her.”

He smiled. “Yeah, she can take off.”

He walked out to the car with us and helped get everyone strapped in. He tucked hair behind my ear, and then kissed it.

“Why don’t you get a sitter?” he asked. “We can paddle. Go to the shrimp shack.”

I left feeling like we’d weathered a storm.

Jon and I didn’t paddle long. I was out of shape for it. We went to the shrimp shack and ordered dinner from the hand-painted menu. Drippy blue paint on plywood offered shrimp, shrimp, shrimp, and bread. We sat at a picnic table, peeled shrimp, dipped bread in sauce, and drank cans of guava-berry juice. Jon didn’t have a food snob bone in his body. I’d hired him to cater a couple of my small projects. He and Victor had put together one of Victor’s rolling Spam shacks stuffed with ‘authentic’ Hawaiian soul food for the day crew. At night they impressed The Suits with real cuisine. He said it would be easier to feed people on location than in five restaurants on four islands.

“Isn’t life amazing?” I asked.

“Let’s take a walk. Rinse off the shrimp juice.”

We went home and set out down the beach.

“So, what happened?” I asked.

“It’s been pretty out-of-control. Celeste went off on Chana. Adam grabbed the phone and went after her. Sounds like he has a lot of Eric in him. He told her to get a fucking life. Then Chana went off on me about you. She is really pissed at me.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t tell Celeste to get a life when she asked for a job.”

“I think they’re going to be fine, don’t you?”

“I do. Let’s stay with this.”

“So what got them so jacked up?” I asked. “Celeste call them hillbillies?”

“No, she came up with the crazy idea that she’s stepmother to Megs and Chance.”

“What?”

I was instantly cold with fright. I started to run back to the house, but Jon caught me and held on tight.

“Don’t hold me! I can’t stand it. I want to go home.”

“She’s in Santa Barbara, H. She’s not anywhere near our house. Let’s finish talking about this while we’re out in the open. I don’t want her under our roof. Come on, let’s walk.”

“What is she talking about?” I asked. “That’s nuts.”

“I know. She thinks that if you can be stepmother to Chana, then she’s stepmother to Margaret and Chance,” he said. “Same father, same relationship.”

“I’m married to you. Why is she doing this? I’ve never tried to take her place.”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry for doing this to you. I’m sorry I even considered hiring her.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I was in California? What if she’d tried to kidnap the babies? What if I’d gone to visit your parents and she was there. She’s always there.”

“She’s not. My parents have pretty much cut her off. Not completely, they don’t want to totally set her off. She’s not going to kidnap them.”

“You should have warned me when I was over there. You left me out of my own life. I hate that you keep doing this, it’s driving me crazy.”

“I thought you might never come back. I’m not going to lose you over Celeste.”

“You’re not going to lose me over Celeste. You’re going to lose me over you. You’re the one who let’s her talk crazy. Have you talked to Glen?”

“He’s in Baja. He’s not returning calls.”

“He must be reachable, they’re in the middle of a divorce.”

“I don’t think it’s as bad as it sounds.”

“You know what, Jon? That’s what you always say and here we are. You’ve let her chase you around the block, just like your mother. How do you know she’s in Santa Barbara? She could be answering her phone from anywhere.”

“She’s not. The folks are keeping an eye on her.”

“This is ridiculous. An entire family at code orange because she can’t get a life. Has Chana talked to her again?”

“I don’t know. She’s not talking to me.”

I felt like I could jump out of my skin.

“I’m going home,” I said. “We’re not going to resolve this with some bullshit walk on the beach.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“Plan? Who plans for this? I came home to fight you about hiring her. Does she know you’re not going to?”

“Not yet.”

“When are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. I’m too pissed to get through the call. I feel like taking out a contract on her. I think she’s just hassling Chana.”

“This isn’t about Chana. It’s about you,” I said. “I think waiting years to start this is a little foxholish.”

“She’s been married.”

We went to bed. I put Meggie between us where she was safe, then hauled in Chance. He latched on and spread out, he likes to lounge like a Roman while he eats.

“We’re going to need a bigger bed,” said Jon.

“Are you making a joke? Now?”

“No. It’s a statement of fact. I’m on four, maybe five, inches over here.”

“We’ve gone to the mattresses.”

We were both quiet. I was alert for intruder sounds, like Celeste climbing through the kitchen window. Chop would let us know. He was our guard pig. The whole thing seemed totally absurd. I started laughing. Jon stuck his head up over Meggie to look at me. Chance released my nipple with a pop and looked at me with pursed lips. I looked at Jon.

“What are you two looking at?” I asked.

“Nothing,” said Jon.

His head disappeared behind Meggie. The bed started shaking, he was laughing. He slid out and crashed to the floor. I waited for a groan, but he just laughed harder. Meggie flopped over, inched to the side of the bed, and waved her hand over the side looking for his neck. I was afraid she’d go over the edge and land on him, so I grabbed the back of her nightgown. Jon laughed on.

“Stop laughing or I’m going to let go of her nightgown,” I hissed.

That really got him going. Chance smiled his first random smile. Too young, must be gas. God, not again.

“Chance just smiled. I think he has shrimp gas,” I whispered.

Jon totally lost it. He crawled to the bedroom door and out into the hall before he got up and laughed all the way out the screen door. I could hear him on the lanai laughing. Victor and Kaia could probably hear him. They must think we’re a hell of a lot jollier than we are. Chop must have been hanging around out there; he oinked. Jon said something to him and no surprise for this night, Chop oinked back. Borders secure, Sir!

I held onto Meggie who was fighting me in her sleep. Chance tooted. Yep. Shrimp. I flopped over onto my back and looked at the ceiling. I had slept in my former life. Shaved and moisturized legs between clean Egyptian cotton sheets. Frequently with a man. Not one had farted all night.

What had my life come to? I had a fleeting thought that Celeste could have it. I would go to the Amazon and sleep alone in a hammock with fresh air and pythons. That sounded totally fun compared to a night of shrimp sauce redux in sandy sheets. It sounded like paradise.

I let go of Meggie’s nightgown and she slid over the side of the bed and landed on her feet. Good cat genes. She sleepwalked down the hall like a heat seeking missile. She could turn toward her target or, do what she frequently did, misfire with a corkscrew contrail into the kitchen. She always shrieked when she hit the kitchen table. That table saw some action.

The screen door opened, she said, “Papa.” She added an under note of sob to drive home what an arduous journey she’d been on, in her sleep, down the hall. She might end up being one of those women that Jon described as
a lot of work
. Jon always fell for it, or pretended he did. He answered her in a quiet voice. Chop oinked. My lizard brain sent out a self-preservation signal. Jon might jump up and run to the cave entrance. I opted to fall asleep while the falling was good.

Dawn and everyone was still asleep. I decided to slip out and watch the sunrise. I almost tripped over Jon and Meggie asleep on the hall floor outside the bedroom. What the hell? Even asleep, he looked tired. He ran his hand lightly up my calf as I stepped over them.

The night tide had washed the beach clean of all the footprints that had passed that way. I sat at the cool edge of wet sand that slid under glassy water then deep to the unexplored space full of sunken ships and crashed planes that had drifted down, filled with trapped humans, to be skewered on the spewing lava vents that pierced half frozen currents, explored by clear sightless creatures. The space above me was overlapping tissue in vibrant pinks and mauves, reflected jewels in the sun gold laid across the surface of the water. You can sense the earth’s cool breath between the delicate sheets of sunrise color. I prefer sunrise. It’s a quiet mind sky. It’s optimistic. Sunset is dense with heat and hot colors. Loud voices and sirens. Fatigue and unwelcome revelations from the day.

My father had crashed at sunset. My sister and niece too. Bettina had been blinded by sun and alcohol as she drove the wrong way on the freeway. They’d been crushed in hot metal, road dirt and noise. An incongruous note in the police report said “Canon in D” was still playing. Bettina loved that piece. It felt better to know she was listening to it at the end. We played it at their funeral; they couldn’t hear it. I’d often wondered about the cop who knew that music. Who knew to put it in the report in case it made it to our memories, to our hearts.