Authors: Erin Cawood
I think what bothered Cal more was living next door to people who had "problems" in their marriage. Our neighbors would have loud arguments at all hours of the day. Objects would crash and smash in the house. Doors would bang. It wasn’t unusual for the wife to have bruises, cuts, or swellings. You see, back then, what happened between husband and wife was no one else's business. As our Nan had once told me, what happened behind closed doors stayed behind closed doors.
But Cal really didn't like the idea of Georgia and I being close to a man who’d beat his wife while he was at work all day, and we just couldn't move away without the extra income. Just between you and me, I couldn't see myself as a housewife for the rest of my life either. I was thrilled with the idea, and made arrangements to continue my training at the hospital after our first anniversary.
I'll never forget our first anniversary. I'd planned a slap-up meal of sirloin from a butcher Mom knew and an apple pie made just like Mom showed me. Cal's a sucker for Mom's apple pie. The entire community's a sucker for Mom's pie. Do you still make it? You mustn't forget how, you know? One day, you'll have to teach your kids. It’s a family tradition. A slice of Hawthorne apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream on a hot summer afternoon … mmm, I can almost taste Mom’s cinnamon pastry.
Anyway, I digress. I'd planned candles, and as much as I detested it, I was prepared to sit through a vinyl recording of Cal’s favorite symphony to serenade our evening.
I picked you up from kindergarten as normal that day and Mom planned on taking Georgia for the night when she came to pick you up. I was so excited. It was just me and Cal celebrating one year of wedded bliss. We hadn't had any time for just the two of us since Georgia was born, and didn't everyone say you must for your marriage to survive?
You don't remember that day, I don't think. It was just like any other sunny school day. We were walking down my street with your hand curled around the stroller as you chatted about the spaceman you'd drawn and couldn't wait to tell Mom. I remember seeing an unmarked police car outside our house as you talked, its lone red light still flashing on the roof. I didn't think anything of it as I threw in the subject of elementary school in the fall. Police cars weren't an unusual occurrence in our neighborhood.
As we walked closer to the house, I saw the suited detectives talking to my neighbor. She pointed to me as they looked and turned in our direction. “Mrs. McKenzie?”
They flashed their badges. I don’t remember their names anymore, only that one officer was tall and the other one short and couldn’t bear to look me in the eyes. He hovered away from the conversation as though the whole situation was too much for
him
.
A patient went off the rails at the practice, they explained, and somehow a gun was involved. My husband, mom and dad, and several other staff members and patients were held hostage by this madman.
Suddenly all the fear Cal felt during my pregnancy closed in on me. My heart thudded, blood thumped in my ears, my breathing thinned to sips of air. Oh, God! What would I do if something happened to him? My voice trembled. “Calvin?”
“He's fine, ma'am,” the tall detective said. I got the impression he was in charge by default. “Your husband's a real hero.”
Later, I learned he'd been the one to tackle the patient with a syringe full of sedatives. But in that moment, the officer’s words were of little comfort to me. His voice warned there was more news to come.
“He's at The General being treated for minor injuries.” Still, his olive eyes spoke a different truth to his reassuring and deceptive voice. He was telling me lies. “But I'm afraid Mrs. McKenzie, Dr. Hawthorne and his wife were pronounced dead at the scene.”
Dr. Hawthorne and his wife... to passers-by on the street, they were just names on a list. On the top of the hour news bulletin, they were innocent victims…but to me? Why so formal? Why so cold? As I watched you playing with your niece still strapped in her stroller, you had no idea of the atrocities which had just destroyed your life. That's how I realized the message sent via the arctic poles was deliverable only to adult ears.
Oh, God, however would I tell you?
Chapter Six
I don't think I've ever had a harder conversation. Except maybe the one I'm having with my pen and paper right now.
It's so difficult not to give up and try to forget this ever happened but I need you to understand. I know I'm all the family you have and I've left you without a word. I know we haven't spoken for many years, but this... well, this is different.
You've always been welcome at the family house. All you had to do was come home and you've always known where to find me; I guess you've always known until now. There is no forwarding address I'm willing to give you but soon you won’t want one, and soon you'll understand why.
Do you remember the day we went to the beach? Just you and me on the crowded beach Mom and Dad took you to on weekends? Except that day it was deserted, because it was a school day, remember? It was the day after everyone wore black and people cried... a lot.
We built sand castles all day long and had a picnic with Dad's favorite PB&J sandwiches with Mom's magic blue lemonade. Do you remember?
Dad actually hated peanut butter, you know? But he got a kick from hearing you laugh when he stole a bite so PB&Js became his favorite because they were all you'd eat at one point in time. You never saw his face those first few months, all screwed up and green. Mom and I had a stake on who'd wash the dishes those nights if Dad hurled... I always washed the dishes... and he never did, you know, hurl.
We put the tent up on the beach and we built a campfire. I showed you how to make s'mores just like Dad would. Can you remember?
"Never forget these things, Darryl," I said as I stared at the melting marshmallow and chocolate over the flames. "These are the memories that will always keep Mom and Dad with you, wherever you go."
"They've been gone a really long time, Fay," you told me. I guess nine days must have seemed like a lifetime to you back then. "When are they coming home?"
What did I say? How did I tell you that for the second time in your very short life God had taken away your parents? Of course, you didn't know at the time you were adopted. Sitting there in front of the fire, with you tucked in between my arms and legs, I made the decision to take the secret to my grave with me. You didn't need to know.
It was a beautiful, clear night. The stars were bright in the navy sky, and the fire crackled and popped as the waves crashed against the shore. It would have been magic on any other night. "What do you know about God, D?" I whispered, pulling the treat away from the fire.
"He's everywhere." You smiled at me. Your bible classes were teaching you well; giving you knowledge to answer life's difficult questions. "But you can't see him because he lives in me and he lives in you." You even put your little hand on my heart.
"Momma and Poppa are living with God now."
Your cute little face was perplexed for a minute or so and I could almost see the cogs working behind those crystal blue eyes of yours. "So I can't see them anymore?" Gawd, you were so intelligent, Darryl, even at six years old!
"No, sweetie." Your lips trembled, your eyes filled with tears, and watching your heart break before my eyes broke mine so much more. Why did I have to do this? Why our parents? This wasn't fair. "But they live in you, and they live in me, and we take them with us everywhere we go."
It was little consolation to a boy whose world had been spun on its axis. We sat there in front of the fire and you sobbed the entire night. You couldn't see me as I sat behind you, holding you, trying to comfort you, stroking your hair the same way Mom did when you were sick. I didn't want you to see me because I cried the whole night too.
#
There was so much to do. The house, the cars, the practice, their clothes, their knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that made them who they were, and the photographs! Oh Darryl, the photographs. I didn't touch many of them for so many years after we moved in. I couldn't. The entrance hall is...
Well, it's like a mini version of a stately home really, isn't it? Except, in place of stuffy oil paintings of thousand-year-old lords and ladies, it’s Mom and Dad feeding each other wedding cake. It’s Nan and Pap on that huge inflatable banana thingy at the beach. Me, you, Mom, and Dad celebrating our first Christmas as a family. I haven't changed it much, you know, I've just added newer pictures.
I don't think I could have made it through without Cal. I know we had Uncle Robert, and he did help out a lot. But he was Dad's best friend. They grew up together, went to the same college. Robert took care of all the legal stuff when Dad set up the practice. He was my godfather. It was too hard to see him and not remember what happened.
Cal handled all of it. He talked to Robert about their will and social services, and about your adoption. He wanted you to live in the family home and go to the school they'd chosen for you with the friends you'd already made. He said it would be good for you. It would help you adjust to life without them. The less number of changes we made the more likely you'd grow and flourish, instead of becoming a delinquent like many children who lose their parents at such an important age.
I was just functioning enough to take care of you, at the time. It was so hard being back at the house, in their space, and knowing they'd never be there again. I wanted to sell it. I didn't want to ever go back there again. So we moved. And I don't regret it, because grow and flourish you did. Look at you. I'm so proud of everything you've become.
We had barely healed from the shock of our parents' death. We were by no means ready to accept it, move on from it, and get over it when Cal took over Daddy's practice. There was a lot for him to learn. He'd worked there just more than a year and took over from the boss, but not just any boss; a boss who'd been cruelly taken in a traumatic event, shaking the practice to its very foundation. And it was affecting business.
A psychiatric clinic where a patient killed two employees and another patient whilst holding many others hostage made the state news. The Hawthorne Therapy Center's reputation was more than damaged. Cal had to save the practice, and that wasn't easy. He went to work early in the morning and came home late at night.
His energy was threadbare when he walked through the door and wrapped his arms around me, apologizing for being home late, and promising to try harder to get home earlier tomorrow. I'd tell him it was okay as I cried, and God only knows why I cried. And then Georgia would wake and he'd tell me to make a cup of tea and put my feet up so he went to soothe her too. I don't know how he managed to stay on his feet.
You see, Cal had already been through what we were going through. Not only with Emma and their baby, but his parents had also died... his mother, lost to cancer and his father to a broken heart. Now you can see why I fell for this particular grizzly bear can't you? With glimpses like these into such a gentle soul?
"Life has to go on," he kept telling me. "It will get easier. One day you won't think about them as much, and then it will be every other day, and then every couple of days. And then, Fay..." I think this was another point where I always began to cry. I cried on Thanksgiving, Christmas, your birthday, Georgia’s first birthday… every time it felt like Mom and Dad should have been there, it brought tears to my eyes. But Cal would simply wrap his arms around me, no matter where we were or who we were with. He had no qualms about showing the love I needed at this time. "I promise, it will stop hurting this much."
Life did go on. He was right. Eventually, it did stop being so difficult. Cal was there the day after Labor Day when I stood with you at the new elementary school he’d chosen. He promised you everything would be better this year. Then we met Uncle Robert, Aunt Gina and Izzy. You know, from the way she took your hand and you followed her across the playground as the bell rung that day... I thought then, and think even now, you'll end up marrying her.
#
A month later, Uncle Robert told me Cal had changed the practice name without telling me. I was angry about the secret he'd kept from me more than the family history he'd erased, although that hurt too.
"Open your eyes, Faith," Uncle Robert said as he swept the short blonde curtain of hair from his eyes. "Something isn't right here."
Of course Uncle Robert's opinion meant a lot to me. It was like I had two dads when I was growing up. So the fact that he was worried about what Cal was doing to our father’s legacy had me more than a little concerned. "What do you mean?"
"Why would Calvin keep this from you for months?" To be honest I was stumped. There wasn't one reasonable explanation to why Cal had changed the clinic's name to the McKenzie Medical Group and not told me. "I've a sneaking suspicion he's vested interests elsewhere and they always have been."
"You think Cal's a gold digger?" I had to laugh. Cal was the perfect husband. He'd supported me through the worst crisis of my life and we stood together on the other side stronger than ever. Even better than stronger than ever, because I suspected our love had created another life. "Well, I guess now would be the perfect time for him to ask for a divorce wouldn't it?"
"We'll see," Robert said.
I took one look into his determined jade eyes and swung away from the school gates. He was wrong, and I marched toward my doctor’s appointment. I was going to tell Cal all about the conversation when he came home from work but he flew through the door and swept Georgia off her feet. He swung her around the house like I'd seen him do with you so many times before. He then placed her in my arms, kissed me firmly on the lips, asked me how my day was, and then went to change clothes. You sat at the kitchen table, just watching, and he hadn't even acknowledged you were there.
How long had this been going on? How long had you missed out? For how long had Cal stopped engaging with you? All thoughts of Uncle Robert, and even the doctor’s appointment, went completely out of my mind.