Growing Up Shaddix (Jimmy/Jacoby)

Title: Growing Up Shaddix
Rating: R
Pairing: Jimmy/Jacoby
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and this never happened.
Summary: The teenage years...joy...
Author: Aightball
Author's note: Jimmy is a main character (as he will always be in my stories), so if that bothers you, I understand. Otherwise, please enjoy! Please read the first three
stories in this series before reading this for the sake of confusion =).


The boys are back!!

***

Prologue


“Jimmy! Priscilla! Let’s go! Eliza! Get a move on!”

I really need a bullhorn, I swear. This house is the same size it was when we started having kids but it feels so cavernous when I have to get the herd moving. And I do mean the herd; both girls are now 6’ or taller and thin just like Jimmy. But when the three of them come down the stairs as they are now, it sounds like thunder.

“We’re here!” Eliza panted, bending over momentarily to catch her breath. Both girls also have Jimmy’s horrible asthma problem, and it’s not fun. “Let’s go.”

Great; I’m taking three asthmatics out into 100% humidity, a 104 degree heat index and a base temperature of 99 degrees. All this for community band practice, too. With a shake of my head, I made sure they all had their inhalers and we hurried for the truck. I was glad they’d joined the community band, but at the same time, it just means we’re busier than we would otherwise be.

“Eliza, before I forget, you have senior pictures on Friday night at five,” I told her, cranking up the air conditioner in my truck. I love summer time in Iowa, don’t get me wrong, but this heat wave is killing me and our gardens.

“Sounds good,” she said, nodding. I caught the smile on her face and knew she was excited. She’s got this strange natural beauty about her and I’m not just saying that because I’m her dad, either. I’ve seen maybe two bad pictures of her in her 17 years of life. I realize that she’s got some of Michelle’s genes in her, but she’s truly Jimmy and I made over; she must’ve gotten that natural look from Chelle.

“Priscilla, you see the allergist on Wednesday, along with Jimmy and Eliza. From there, we jet over to the pulmonologist for checks. After that, you have dance at six.”

“Ugh. I hate the doctor,” she muttered darkly, crossing her arms over her chest. Have I mentioned that we now have to fend off the boys and girls with shotguns? Both girls have, uhm, blossomed well since they were about nine years old. “When do I see Dr. Mumford again?”

Dr. Mumford is her cardiologist and the reason she’s still alive. “You see him after band practice.”

Priscilla was born prematurely, along with her twin sister Penelope. We lost Penny within an hour of birth, but Cilla hung on. She’s had two heart surgeries and so far, shows no signs of problems. The last surgery, before she was a year old, was meant to hold her for life, but she has to have a yearly checkup just to be sure.

“The gravel sure is dry,” Jimmy observed, with a slight shake of his head. “We really need some rain.”

I nodded, because he was right. We’d been having these 100 degree days for a week straight with no relief in sight. It was supposed to rain tonight, but I had a feeling it would only make it worse.

“Maybe we’ll get some storms tonight,” Priscilla said from the back. Her previous pout was gone, her blue eyes shining once again. Teenagers, I swear. “I could do with a good storm right about now.”

Ah, Priscilla, my little storm chaser. Remember when a big storm hit and Jimmy ran outside to take pictures rather than take shelter? Priscilla is just as bad. We got her a really nice camera for her fourteenth birthday and she’s actually captured some amazing weather photographs. Naturally, her close encounter with a tornado about killed me, but the pictures were amazing.

“I bet you could. But the forecast said nothing about storms for at least two more days. We might get some rain tonight, but that’s about it. Keep in mind that that rain will probably make things worse as far as the humidity.”

“Joy,” Eliza muttered, her voice dark. Humidity does none of my asthmatics any favors. “Dad, when’s our next concert?”

Jimmy looked at his phone, squinting a bit. I think it’s getting time for new glasses, as he’s been getting headaches and squinting a lot. I almost laughed when he brought the phone up to his nose for a closer look at the calendar.

“It’s in two weeks,” he announced, squinting a bit more. “Saturday June 19th at three in the afternoon.”

“I’ll make you an eye doctor appointment,” I told him, and laughed with the girls when he flipped me off. “Unless you like having your phone practically on your nose, of course.”

“Fuck you,” he growled, but started laughing.

I grinned as I pulled up to the community center in Missouri Valley. Once they had all piled out of the car, the girls with their instrument cases and Jimmy his drum sticks, I said I’d be back in two hours. That gave me time to go back home and tend to our dry gardens, as well as get some laundry done. I was going to run into Omaha for errands, but there’s no point, since we have Priscilla’s appointment following practice.

I guess Jimmy and I lucked out, when you think about it. While both girls are essentially him made over, they have my temperament. So far, this means that, while they’ve had the usual behavior issues most teenagers have, we haven’t had the problems Jimmy had at this age. And so far as we can tell, they don’t have his tendency toward addiction, either. Not that we’ve given them hard drugs to find out, of course, but they aren’t addicted to, say, sugary treats or anything.

“Hey guys,” I said, as the cats met me at the door. Ma and Pa sadly passed away a couple of years ago, and Hamlet and Ophelia are on their own for now. Jimmy just doesn’t want to replace his cats yet, and I can sort of understand. We got Ma and Pa as a therapy move for him and it worked wonders. “I’m not home for long, okay? Just need to water the gardens and stuff.”

They seemed disgruntled at this, but I think that’s old age. After all, they are only three years younger than Ma and Pa were, and they are slowing down quite a lot. I have a feeling we’ll lose at least Ophelia this summer; she’s been sick a lot of late and has lost some weight. After that, I don’t know what we’ll do for pets.

I went outside and grabbed the garden hose, cranking it on full blast. I was instantly wet with sweat, given the humidity and lack of a good breeze. As I worked my way around the flower beds first, I heard someone call my name. Turning, sure to aim the water at the garden, I nodded to Ryland Mars, our neighbor up the street. Hank had passed away last year and Ryland and his family had moved into the house a month ago. Life without Hank was depressing at times, as he was always around when we needed him most. Now, when we have questions only he could answer, Jimmy’s parents are stuck trying to help. We lost my mom six months ago to cancer and I miss her more every day.

“How’s it going?” Ryland asked, tucking his hands into his shorts pockets. He’s a young guy, probably around 25. We met him when Jimmy’s truck slid into his wife Ella’s truck two weeks ago. The road had been newly graveled and both trucks lost their traction on the gravel piles. No one was hurt and the trucks sustained minor dents and scratches, but it was a hell of a way to meet the neighbors.

“Not bad, how about you?” I asked, wondering what he wanted. I guess I was just used to Hank wandering down for no reason, which was fine. New neighbors had to have a reason, I guess, though I don’t know why.

“Not bad. Ella and I wondered if you and Jimmy would be willing to watch Mitchell and Nyla for us Friday night. We’re going into Omaha for a work picnic, but kids can’t come.”

I thought about our schedule and told him I’d get back to him. I didn’t think we were busy, but Jimmy and I like to make these decisions together. He understood and waved as he left to walk back up the gravel. I know they’re remodeling the house, which makes me kind of sad. I don’t hold it against them, of course, because the décor is horribly about of date, but it still makes me sad.

The two hours passed relatively quickly, and it wasn’t long before I was picking up my talented musicians. Jimmy had rediscovered his passion for drumming in the last year or so as a means to help him through Hank’s passing as well as my mom’s. It was a lot of loss in a short amount of time and he had a very difficult go. Thankfully, he’s pulled through, though he still has his days. It was Eliza’s idea to join the community band and I thank her every day for that.

“Hey guys, how was practice?” I asked, heading for the interstate. The state had repaved it recently and it was smooth going for once.

“It was good. I think we’re ready for our show,” Jimmy said, a wistful smile on his face. I knew what he was thinking, but hoped he’d be able to move passed it until he and I could talk at home. Hank never got to see him drum, and I think he regrets that. “What do we need to do in Omaha beside Dr. Mumford?”

I laughed and he glanced at me in confusion. “That sounded dirty,” I told him, which got him laughing a moment later. It was just what he needed, trust me. “After Priscilla’s appointment, we need to get groceries and go to Wal-Mart.”

“I hate Wal-Mart,” Eliza grumbled, assuming the pouty teenager stance. “Can’t we go to Target instead?”

I shook my head, smiling. “No, we can’t. Wal-Mart is cheaper and has a better selection, so we’re going.”

That seemed to settle things, as I pulled into the city and headed for Creighton. As usual, Cilla would have an echo before her visit, as well as a stress test. She hated this, but I reminded her that she only had to do it once a year, so she could hardly complain.

“Welcome to the torture hour,” she muttered, and I barely suppressed my laughter. “I hate this.”

“I know, but it keeps you healthy,” Jimmy reminded her as we all headed inside. We got her checked in, waved to our colleagues walking the halls, and then sat in the waiting room while she had her tests. “I hope she has another good check up.”

“Me, too,” I said, glancing at Eliza. She’d brought a sketch pad and was engrossed in her headphones and drawings. She’s really a talented artist and is applying to art schools left and right. With her senior year in high school approaching, I hope she gets into one of them. “Did our checks come in today?”

“Yeah, I checked this morning,” Jimmy said, pulling his checkbook out. We discussed our finances quietly, so we knew how much grocery money we had, satisfied that we had enough. The fields we rent out had been passed down through one family and were currently in their third generation. Rent was the same, at $750 a month, and that really helped. “We’re set for a while.”

“Is Nash going to keep farming?” I asked, referring to our renter. His grandfather had rented from us, then his dad, and now him.

“So far. He was out the other day to drop off rent and let me know that he was going to continue another year. He seems to likes the work, so hopefully he’ll continue to rent from us for a few more years.”

“Hopefully. He’s reliable like the rest of his family, and I don’t relish starting with a new renter.”

We were quiet after that, looking at the magazines displayed around and watching Eliza draw. It took about an hour and a half for an annoyed Priscilla to return to us. I tried to cheer her up, but she’s hard to cheer up after the tests she goes through. We made our way to the office, then, where Jimmy and I would go back with her. Hopefully all is well for another year.

One

Priscilla’s check up was fine once again, as hoped. We ran our errands and then headed home, ready to relax for the night. Days like today are quite stressful so a relaxing evening at home is a must. A few years ago, we used the field rent to get a pool installed in our backyard. The girls love it and on a hot day like today, a dip in the pool is the perfect evening activity. Our backyard is shaded in the evening, though sunscreen is still required, and I smiled as we all sat around the pool, relaxing in lawn chairs or swimming lazy laps in the water. It’s an in ground pool with a wooden deck around it, so it’s perfect for nights like this.

“Dad, can we get a dog?” Priscilla asked, for what might be the millionth time. A friend of hers has a dog and she really wants one. The problem is, I’m so allergic to dogs that one encounter can (and has) landed me in the hospital. She has to change out in the garage before coming in from her friend’s house and can’t bring the clothes or shoes any closer to me than the washer. Everything she wears gets washed, right down to her shoes. We follow that up with an empty washer cycle just to get the dog hair out. “Please?”

“Cilla, we’re never going to get a dog. I am deathly allergic to them,” I reminded her, and ignored her unhappy sigh. “Please stop asking. There will be no dogs in this house, ever.”

She seemed defeated, which in a way, was a good thing. We’d told the girls to invite friends over, and I watched Eliza and her friend Monet in a splash war. It was hard to tell who was winning. Naturally, Priscilla had invited Randi (Miranda), the owner of the dog. She would be late arriving, but since we’d said they could have a sleep over, it didn’t matter. Randi knew the rules and followed them with minimal complaint.

“Randi’s almost here dad,” Priscilla said, looking up from her phone. Yes, cell phones still rule our lives, though Jacoby and I have kept hold of our landline. “I told her to change in the garage. Her swimsuit is sitting out.”

Yes, Randi keeps clothes at our house. It’s that whole dog thing again, as you might’ve guessed. She can’t bring anything into our house, because the dog sheds too much. I feel bad, but what can you do?

“Randi!”

I almost jumped out of my skin when she yelled at her friend; I hadn’t realized how close she was. I watched a blue car pull into our driveway as Priscilla bolted for the garage, waving frantically. She and Eliza have friends, but only seem to have one really close friend each. I waved to Randi’s mom, who was walking our way.

“Pool night, eh?” she asked, smiling. I nodded, returning the smile. “I told Randi I’d be back tomorrow around two to pick her up, if that works for you? She’s got soccer at four, so she can’t stay much later.”

“That should work fine,” I said, standing. “Thanks for bringing her out; this was all very last minute.”

“No problem. It’s nice to get out of the city for a while. And I’m supposed to ask if Priscilla can stay with us tomorrow night.”

I nodded, glancing over at Jacoby, who nodded as well. “I see no problem with that,” my husband said, standing to join us. “She doesn’t have anywhere to be until Wednesday, so she can stay.”

“Can Priscilla come stay with us tomorrow night?” Randi asked as soon as they got to the pool. The girls cheered when we said yes. “Thank you! Bye mom, see you tomorrow afternoon!”

Marg said her goodbyes and returned to her car, probably grateful for one less teenager in her house. She’s got four kids and every one of them is between the ages of 13-18. We’re happy to have one less teenager tomorrow night and we only have the two!

“What are you girls going to do later?” I asked, as Eliza and Monet pulled themselves from the pool.

“We’re going to draw later,” Eliza said, and I hope she was able to ignore or miss all together the eye roll from her sister. Priscilla had little patience for art, despite being an avid (and very good) trumpet and violin player. “Maybe watch a movie. Will you make popcorn, dad?”

I nodded, figuring that the girls would want me to do that. I make killer cheesy popcorn, and it’s a big hit at sleepovers in our house.

“Priscilla, what are you and Randi going to do?” Jacoby asked, as the girls got into the water.

“Probably hang out in my room with the popcorn,” she said, with a shrug.

That was code for ‘keep my dads up all night’ as she and Randi sat around, laughed and talked. Her bedroom is just next to ours, so we were prepared, of course, but still. I did want to get some sleep tonight, considering we always get up and make breakfast for our guests in the morning.

“Don’t be up too late,” I cautioned them, and saw the eye roll leveled at me. With a smile, I repeated my caution, knowing that Priscilla desperately wanted to flip me off. Naturally, of course, she wouldn’t, because the one time she did, we sent Randi home and grounded Pricilla for a week. “I’m going to head in and start the popcorn.”

There were smiles all around at the mention of the promised snack, and I smiled as I made my way to the back porch. I was starting to get an itchy nose from Randi’s proximity, so hopefully the pool will take care of the problem. I didn’t want to say anything, though, because she’s kind of sensitive. Her dad died when she was eight from an asthma attack, and I didn’t want to scare her.

“Hey Hamlet,” I said, as I got out the giant frying pan. I poured some oil in it, then the popcorn and started it popping. I checked on Ophelia, who was sleeping soundly on the couch. I don’t think she’s going to last the summer, but I have some hope. “You keep an eye on Ophelia for me, yeah?”

He moved back into the living room as I returned to the popcorn, shaking it a bit so nothing would burn. When it was just right, I seasoned it with some salt and then piled on the cheese. Finally, it was perfect, as the tired swimmers made their way inside.

“Go change and we’ll have some popcorn,” I said, getting some bowls out. I made two big ones for the sleepovers and smaller ones for Jacoby and me. “It’s ready!”

I listened as everyone thundered down the stairs, grabbing their bowls with shouted thanks. The kids returned upstairs, as I went to change. I should’ve changed before I cooked, but oh well. It wasn’t long before I was in my shorts and t-shirt and had joined my husband in the living room. He smiled at me, handing me some popcorn, as I settled into my recliner next to him.

“I wonder how late the kids will be up,” he said, clicking on the DVD player. It was an all around movie night in our house, it would seem.

“I don’t know, but as long as they leave us alone, I don’t care,” I told him, as the movie came on. He leaned over and stole a kiss, and we settled in to relax.

***

We made breakfast around nine the next morning, when the kids finally started to filter downstairs. They were still awake at three when I got up to use the restroom, and I remember shushing them and telling them to go to bed. Of course, that makes me the ‘uncool’ dad, but oh well. I’ve been uncool before, I won’t feel too heartbroken.

“Pancakes or waffles?” I asked, as four sleepy girls sat at the kitchen table, yawning. I smiled at them and pointed to the baking ingredients sitting on the counter.

“Food,” they mumbled, so I took that to mean pancakes.

Jacoby got juice and milk for the zombies while I cooked. We’d eaten around seven, when we got up to go for our morning walk. The humidity wasn’t as bad early and it allowed us to do yard work right after. It also gave us a chance to have our breakfast without zombies.

“Here we go,” I said, setting a large plate of pancakes in the center of the table. The zombies seemed to register the smell of food and dived for it, causing us to laugh. “There’s more coming.”

“Good food, Jimmy!” Randi complimented, her eyes suddenly bright. Apparently, the sleep had finally worn off and the girls were becoming more alert.

The girls settled into silence as I put a second batch of cakes on the table. Jacoby and I were hungry as well (working outside in this weather makes you work up an appetite), so we had a second breakfast. We didn’t eat as much as the girls, but the pancakes were good this morning.

“Monet, what time do you have to be home?” I asked, as we loaded the dishwasher. Her mother was out of town on a business trip and her dad had to work, though I knew she had to be home at a certain time regardless. Her younger sister would require watching this afternoon, I knew.

“Around one,” she said, with a sigh. She doesn’t have a great home life, if you listen to her. I know her folks and really, she’s got it pretty good, she just doesn’t get the attention she wants. “Then I have to watch Allison.”

That’s another point of contention for her; she hates watching her five year old sister. The girl had been a surprise and Monet had “suffered” the lack of attention ever since. Apparently, it was tough to be an only child and then have a sibling.

“We’ll make sure you get back in time. Did you girls want to go to the Old Market today?” Jacoby asked, before they went to shower.

“Yeah,” Priscilla said, and the others agreed as well. “Can we do some shopping?”

“Yes. Bring your allowance,” I said, closing the dishwasher. “Go shower and we’ll get going. There’s a shower in the basement as well, don’t forget.”

That seemed to be all the motivation the girls needed. In short order, they were all dressed and in our kitchen, eager to head into Omaha. All of the kids lived in Mondamin and attended school together; Omaha was truly the big city to them. Everyone it seemed had their purses and money and I knew my girls had a shopping list in their heads.

“So, where do you guys want to go first?” I asked, as we piled into my truck. Eliza had asked if she and Monet could drive separately, but I said no. She’s got plenty of good driving experience in Omaha, but this is a day to be together. “Any book store request?”

That was a stupid question. Naturally, our first stop would be Barnes and Nobel on 72nd and Dodge, then we’d go across the street to Borders. After that, we’d hit the downtown area. If all worked according to plan, we’d be able to eat and get everyone home on time. Randi had called her mom and told her the plan and Marge had thanked us for giving her daughter a ride.

“Be at the entrance in an hour,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was just after 1015, but we had a schedule to follow. As the girls scampered off, I followed Jacoby to the café. “Time for coffee.”

He nodded eagerly, as we ordered some of the frilliest, most caffeinated drinks on the menu. We usually separate after this, so I told him I was off to the fiction section. I’d been reading a series and I wanted to find the newest one. He kissed me chastely on the cheek, then told me to have fun; he’d be in the sci-fi section as usual. I was glad I’d married a bookworm, to be honest with you, because I can’t imagine if I hadn’t. I hadn’t always had a love for books, but he’d introduced me to them when we first met. It was how I passed the time so often in rehab, and now, I was just plain addicted.

Grinning, I located the book I needed, taking time to look at the other offerings. If this author was good, others were bound to be good as well, and I wanted to try another author. Settling onto the floor, I selected a book at random and settled in to start reading.

Two

I have to admit that travelling annually to California with teenagers is much easier than with small children. The girls are able to have their own seat and understand when they get scolded for bad behavior. That and they don’t cry on takeoff and landing anymore. It’s a much more pleasant experience for everyone, let me tell you.

As it is, we’re now boarding our plane in Phoenix, after a two hour layover. The girls are good travelers which, is a relief, and they actually look forward to this trip. This year, our trip is two-fold: visit the family and take Eliza to a visit day for an art school she’s looking at. She’s been gathering informational packets from various art schools and we told her she could pick three to visit. Art Institute California is the first one, with a campus in Santa Ana. The other two are, thankfully, in driving distance of Mondamin.

“Are we there yet?” Priscilla whined and I pinched the bridge of my nose. She’s a good traveler, but for some reason this trip is wearing on her.

“We’re nearly there now,” I assured her, rubbing her shoulders, as we buckled in. “Two more hours and then we’ll see Grandma and Grandpa Sullivan.”

She nodded, leaning her head on my shoulder. She felt slightly warm and I hoped she wouldn’t spend our vacation sick. She’s not really any more susceptible to infection or illness than any other kid, but we worry all the same. So far, she’s had all the normal childhood illnesses and a few bouts of pneumonia. The pneumonia is just her lungs, and we’re used to it by now, whether that’s good or bad.

The plane finally got going and I watched my girls fall asleep. It’s only eight at night west coast time, but they’re understandably tired. I myself was tired and ready to start our vacation. Jimmy and I aren’t as young as we used to be after all, and we don’t have the same energy we had twenty years ago.

“Come on girls, we’re here,” I said, gently waking them two hours later. We were in Los Angeles and it was just past 10 at night out here. “Grandma and grandpa will be waiting for us.”

That seemed to motivate them at least a little and soon enough, we were standing in baggage claim, embraced in hugs from Barb and Joe, Jimmy’s folks. Even though both were in their mid 70s, they looked just as healthy as ever; Jimmy’s mom had had a health scare a few years ago, but had come out of it just fine. We weren’t prepared for any more loss in our family right now. My dad and I are estranged, and Joe’s the only dad I’ve got left.

“How was the flight?” Joe asked, as Jimmy and I collected our bags.

“Long,” Eliza muttered, standing with her grandmother. She was half asleep, and I knew we’d all be glad to get to the house.

“Let’s go guys,” I said, smiling when we’d collected everything. Priscilla was leaning on Joe and she looked pale. I tried not to worry, but I’m a dad and I can’t help it. “Cilla, you okay?”

She shrugged, as Joe went for the car. I know when my kids are sick, and let me tell you: Cilla is sick. Jimmy nodded at me, and I knew we agreed on this point. We’d give her time before we attempted to drag her to a doctor. I suspect the flu, even though it’s summer, and in a few days, she should be right as rain.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Barb asked and I frowned. Priscilla was bent over a trashcan and I don’t think I have to elaborate, do I? “We’ll be home soon, honey.”

Barb will always be a mom, and in some ways, it’s very helpful. Not that we don’t know what to do, but every so often, Priscilla wants a mom, and outside of Barb, she’s only got her friends to call upon. There are moments we get flustered because we can’t answer some of her questions, and we’re going to be screwed the day Barb does pass away.

Despite the time of night (and the fact that it’s a Friday), we managed to make the trip back to HB in under an hour. Priscilla went right to bed, as Barb tucked her in. She was given a trashcan and something for her stomach, and I hope she sleeps tonight. Eliza went to bed as well, but Jimmy and I stayed up for a bit with his folks.

“How are the girls doing?” Joe asked, as we all sat down with water. It was relief to sit somewhere that wasn’t a narrow plane seat and have some actual conversation. “I can see Cilla doesn’t feel well, but otherwise?”

“They’re good,” Jimmy said, yawning and rubbing his face. “They keep us busy, of course, with their activities and such, but they’re doing well. Eliza is excited about her senior year and I think Priscilla is looking forward to having the house to herself once Eliza leaves, of course. Otherwise, they keep busy with band and friends.”

“How is the band going?” Barb asked, and I knew there was more to the question than a general enquiry.

“It’s been a blessing,” Jimmy said simply and I nodded, hugging him a bit. “Well, I’m exhausted, so I’m off to bed. Good night all.”

I was a little worried, but let it pass; after all, several hours of flying along with a sick daughter were enough to wear anyone out. I waved after him, figuring he’d check on the girls in their rooms (his folks had enough room for the girls to have their own rooms), and then bed down.

“You’re worried about him,” Joe observed, as he collected our glasses. Barb said good night and I followed my father-in-law to the kitchen. “How is he doing? I know it was a very tough six months.”

I nodded, rubbing my face. “I am. He’s doing so well, he had some counseling and stuff, but he seems subdued tonight for some reason. I know he’s tired from tonight and worried about Cilla, but there seems to be more to it than that. Perhaps being out here is a reminder of all the loss in the last year.”

Joe nodded, as we sat across from each other at the island. “He and Hank were very close. Barb and I were grateful for their relationship, because those 10 years we were apart were very difficult for us. I know Jimmy was worried when we reunited, about us feeling replaced, but he needn’t have worried. I know that Hank and Eleanor meant a lot to him. It was a little weird seeing him in their family photos, but I understood why. Give him a couple of days to rest up, Jacoby, before you start to worry; he’ll come around.”

I nodded as I said good night and headed to bed. I knew he was probably right, but I know Jimmy and I don’t think he’s going to come around this time.

***

It used to be that our month long vacation consisted of spending two weeks with the Sullivan’s and two weeks with my mom. Now, I had worked it out with Jimmy to take a day alone to visit my mom. We were staying with my aunt and uncle for a couple of days, just so we could visit mom’s grave. It’s been well cared for, which I was grateful for; my aunt and uncle are taking care of it for me. It’s still early in our vacation, we’ve only been here for a week, but I wanted to do this early on. Barb and Joe understood and the girls wanted to stay with them rather then come along. That was fine with me, as I’m sure it was still too weird for them without their other grandma.

“Hey mom,” I said, settling in front of her headstone. The grass has grown back and the mound of dirt has settled finally. It’s still strange to think I’m speaking to my dead mother like this, but it’s my only chance. “Well, we’re back again. I can’t believe it’s been six months since we lost you. We lost Hank six months before that. You were so healthy when you came out for his funeral and then all at once, you’re dead? I don’t get it. You said yourself that you had no symptoms of cancer until routine blood work was off. I really wish it hadn’t been your time; the girls miss you and Jimmy has had such a hard time with things. Yesterday would’ve been your 75th birthday, so we all had a little drink for you when the girls went to bed.

“Eliza is going to look into an art school out here. I have a feeling she’ll chose California over Nebraska or Missouri, because she loves it out here. She’s got California blood, even though she’s born and raised in Iowa. Jimmy and I are really supportive of her as well, because she knows she’s talented. I think she wants to study graphic design. I’m sorry that the girls aren’t here, but they weren’t ready yet, which is understandable. I’m not, either, but it’s the only chance I’ve got. We’re driving back to HB tomorrow and finishing out our vacation there; I hope you’re not mad.

“Priscilla’s going to be taking driver’s ed when we get home. She could’ve had it this summer, but they wouldn’t let her miss July, so we signed her up during the school year. It meets after school, which sucks for her, but that’s all she could get. Eliza has her own truck now, heaven help us. She’s a good driver, even in winter, but it scares me to death thinking she’s got her own vehicle. She’s got a job at Molly’s Bar as a waitress. I know, it seems wrong, but she works the non-alcohol times of day, so she’s legal. She goes in sometimes in the morning to help with breakfast and sometimes after school to help with supper. Once it hits eight at night, though, she has to be done, since they open the actual bar part. But she likes the work and she’s a good money saver.

“Jimmy and I are doing well also. We fight less lately, which is a relief. I mean, we still have our problems, but not like we used to. He really struggled after we lost Hank, because it was like losing his dad. He was in counseling for a long time after that, and he still has bad days. He’s out walking town right now, since he came with me yesterday to see you. Sometimes, a boy needs his mom and right now, I need my mom.

“I’m worried about Jimmy, mom. He’s putting on a good front, but I know he’s struggling. He’s struggling emotionally and I think he’s having some cravings. I know when he’s high or drunk and I haven’t noticed either of those with him. But he had a beer the other night and I know it was hard for him to stop. I’m so worried about him, mom, and I don’t know what to do. I can’t just tell him I think he’s heading down a bad path because it will cause problems and we’re finally fighting much less than we have in the past.

“But I don’t know how to help him. So, if you have any suggestions, I’m all ears. I don’t want to accuse him wrongly, but I’m really worried about him. We’re coming up on a big transition, you know, with Eliza graduating from high school and going to college; he’s had so much heartache in the last year and that’s not going to be easy for him, either. So, before I go, remember that I love you, okay? Life’s hell without you, but Barb’s helping as much as she can.”

With a sigh, I touched the headstone, then stood. I never dreamed of the day I’d lose my mom, you know? I mean, I’m not naive; I knew we’d lose her some day, as we’ll lose Jimmy’s folks, too. But you just aren’t prepared for it, especially when it happens so damn fast. She was fine and then she was dead. I know I shouldn’t generalize it like that, but it’s hard not to. With a shake of my head, I wiped my face, took a deep breath, and returned to the rental we had. His parents always insisted on providing us a rental, even though we argued we could afford it. We’re a lot better off than we used to be, but his parents insist.

“Well, back to get my husband, I guess,” I muttered, putting the car in reverse. I headed down the road, back to my aunt’s house.

***

Six hours in the car with Jimmy goes one of two days: good or bad. There is rarely an in between, but tonight, it was exactly that: in between. He was tired, since he’d kept busy all day, but he was sober, that much I could tell. I was hoping that he’d want to talk about things that have been bothering him, but no such luck. I tried to think of a tactful way to bring it up, but I was at a loss. So, we rode most of the way back in silence, while he read a book.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he observed, as I passed a slow mover. The interstate wasn’t very crowded tonight, which was nice. “That usually means you want to talk to me about something uncomfortable. Or, are you simply quiet since it’s been a stressful couple of days?”

He knows me well. I glanced over at him for a second, catching a sign for food. I signaled to get over, and then took the ramp. We were four hours into our drive, and I was starving. Jimmy nodded, understanding that I did want to talk about something uncomfortable. He closed his book as we debated where we wanted to eat. Finally, as I turned into an In and Out, he turned to me.

“We’ll talk after we eat, whatever it is,” he promised me, and I nodded. “I know some of it is the emotional couple of days we’ve had, but I sense there is something more.”

I nodded, linking hands with him. I just hope this doesn’t blow up in my damn face. Again.

I think you guys are now on the same posting schedule as Mibba and LJ for this story! Enjoy!

***

Three


I guess telling Jacoby we’d talk about whatever it was wasn’t the best idea. In short, he’s afraid I’m going to fuck up 23 years of sobriety, which I am not about to do. Why the hell would I do that anyway? I like being sober, damn it! Okay, the other night, it was hard not to have more than one beer; but that has happened several times over the last few years. I am so stinking mad at him right now, but on the other hand he has a point.

“Damn you,” I muttered, and head him sigh. “You’re right, you know. I am struggling emotionally and I do sometimes have a craving. But I’m staying strong, Jacoby. 23 years of sobriety and I am not going to ruin that now. Dad and I have been having late night chats, actually, and it’s really helping. Not that you haven’t helped, but sometimes, I just need dad.”

Jacoby nodded, and I think he deflated with relief. “I didn’t want to bring it up, but I thought it was appropriate, that’s all. Now that it’s on the table, we can forget about it, okay? If you’re staying strong, that’s all that counts.”

He squeezed my thigh and my anger started to dissipate. These days, it seems, I can’t stay angry for long and I soon felt a smile spreading on my face. I thanked Jacoby for bringing his concerns to my attention, because while it might’ve pissed me off, I did appreciate it.

“We’re an hour out now,” he told me, pulling into a gas station. Even though we’d had a filling supper, I wanted a snack. “You going to get some pop?”

“Yeah, what do you want?”

“A Pepsi and something sweet,” he answered and I rolled my eyes playfully at him. He’s always so vague, you know?

Never the less, I went inside and got our treats, figuring he’d be happy with whatever I got him. Once I’d paid, I made my way back to the car, ready to get home. It just wasn’t the same visiting Jacoby’s family without his mom there; I don’t know his extended family as well, so it was all kind of awkward.

“I’m glad to get back to your folks,” Jacoby said, merging back onto the interstate. “It’s just not right visiting mom at the cemetery.”

I squeezed his arm, wondering if I should’ve taken over the driving. He’s refused to let me drive any of the combined 12 hours this year, even though we usually split each six hour trip evenly. I think he needs the distraction. But now, he’s emotional and I spotted a rest stop a mile ahead.

“Pull over, honey, and let me drive,” I told him, and he nodded, pulling over as soon as he could. As soon as we were out of the car, I embraced him and let him cry. “It’s going to be okay, honey, I promise. I know it’s hard now, and we’re both struggling, but it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get through this together.”

I hate seeing him upset, but under the circumstances, it’s inevitable. I gave him a moment to go inside and freshen up, then we resumed our trip home. I haven’t had any calls about the girls, so I hope that means they’re behaving. I know Eliza was going to hang out at the tattoo shop a couple of my friends run, and I gave my permission for them to work on her. She’s 18 now, and she knows what she wants. If college doesn’t work out, she’s already been promised work there. Cilla is over her bout of flu, it seems, and I have a feeling she’s out running with friends as well.

“We’ll take some time on the beach tonight, okay?” I said, and Jacoby nodded, leaning his head against the window and drifting to sleep. “I love you.”

***

“Hey dad, want to help me get Jacoby in?” I asked, as I walked into the house an hour later. It was just after eight at night, but Jacoby was sound asleep. “He’s asleep in the car and I can’t carry him.”

“I’m here,” a sleepy voice mumbled behind me. “I’m going to bed.”

With that, he was gone and I sighed, turning back for the door. I might as well bring our bags in and try to forget the hurt and grief on my husband’s face. I had told him that coming this year might not be wise, but he didn’t listen to me. With a frustrated sigh, I got our bag in (we were only gone two nights), and left it outside our room. I’d deal with it later, I figured. I did pull my swim trunks out of it, though, and was soon headed out to mom and dad’s private stretch of beach. I needed to relax and that was my only chance for the foreseeable future.

“Hey dad,” Eliza said, as I walked past the pool. She and Priscilla were swimming with their cousins, I noticed. “Or not.”

I kept walking, heading right into the ocean. When I was far enough out to float, I laid on my back, contemplating what to do. Perhaps there’s nothing to do, I told myself. After all, it was an emotional couple of days, as expected. It might be that he’s just tired from all of that.

“FUCK!” I shouted, running a hand over my face. I swam a bit closer to shore, then sat in the shallow water, wishing I knew how to help my husband. We were both still grieving Hank and Jeanette, but I felt like we were doing so much better, you know? “I knew this was a bad idea.”

I heard a sigh behind me and turned to see Priscilla. She sat down beside me, then drew me into a hug, which surprised me; she’s not the touchy-feely type.

“Dad, this was not a bad idea. I know that you don’t see it, but it’s true. I know that daddy’s upset now, but he’ll be fine in the morning. Remember what the grief counselor told you about closure? It might be that this visit is what he needed, okay? There’s too much sadness at home right now, so coming out here was a good thing. Try to remember that.”

With that, she was gone, back to her fun with her aunts and cousins. I swear this kid is going to make a great psychologist some day. I thought about what she’d said and realized she had a point. Perhaps, as she implied without actually saying it, I was worry for nothing. I mean, Jacoby was bound to be emotional and that does drain a person physically. I needed to stop worrying, but it’s hard, you know? I love my husband and I want to be here for him, no matter what.

“We’re going to have a fire, if you want to join us.”

I looked up and nodded at my sister Katie, who sat down beside me. The surf washed over us, gentle waves that covered us in foam before heading back out to sea. She hugged me and I welcomed it, glad for the comfort of her arms. Through all the ups and downs of the last several years, she’s been my rock. Once we found my family, she and I bonded quickly. I can talk to her about anything and vice versa.

“So, what’s wrong? We’ve got a few minutes while dad sets up the fire and mom gets the stuff for s’mores going. Let me guess: you’re worried about Jacoby.”

“Yeah, but Priscilla made a good point: it was going to be an emotional couple of days considering it was his first time back home since the funeral. But he was just so despondent on the way home. Then, he accused me trying to ruin 23 years of sobriety. I’m not going to, even though I am struggling a little, too. But I’m sure as hell not going to ruin 23 years of being clean and sober just because I had a rough year. Hank would come back to haunt me in anger and so would Jeanette. I want to make my 25th year, and I’m going to do it.”

“And we’re all proud of you for that. Trust me every time you reach a milestone in your sobriety, mom and dad practically jump for joy. I think Priscilla is right about Jacoby: it was an emotional trip and he’s bound to be upset for a couple of days. Put it aside and try to have a good time, okay? You’ve got three weeks left and a visit to an art school to go, so stay cheerful. Now, are you going to have a glass of wine with me? You are allowed that, right?”

I nodded, standing. “Actually, because of the low alcohol volume, I can have up to three glasses of wine. The doctor approved that with my meds as well.”

“Excellent! I think I’ve got a six glass bottle,” she told me, with a chuckle.

***

“When do you go visit your school, Liza?” mom asked, as we sat around the fire. I was on my third and final glass of wine and feeling fuzzy, but not drunk. Jacoby was still sleeping, but I was going to let him be.

“On Friday,” she answered, setting her wine glass aside. She’s allowed one glass of the real stuff as long as she’s supervised. After that, we break into mom’s non-alcoholic stash, which I’m looking forward to. “I’m excited about it, too. The campus is only about 20 minutes from here, so I’ll be nice and close.”

We all started laughing, as Eliza gave us a blank stare. I finally hugged her from the side and ruffled her hair, much to her discontent.

“I think that just means she wants free laundry facilities,” I translated causing my daughter to hide in her sweatshirt.

“Dad, you’re embarrassing me!” she whined, causing more laughter around the camp fire.

“It’s okay,” my dad said, still laughing. “We are always here for your laundry and food needs should you decide to go to school out here. Though you might get put to work around the yard.”

I nodded, smiling. Mom and dad were nearing their 80s, so some tasks were harder to do these days. They were both in excellent health and had no physical ailments, but I still don’t like dad climbing ladders, for instance.

“I can do that,” she agreed, pulling her shirt down. Even in the fire light, you could see the blush on her face, though it was fading. “I like yard work.”

“She’s a good helper at home,” I admitted, nodding, as I drained my glass. I set it aside and leaned back in my chair. “Finally, someone besides me who likes mowing the lawn.”

“Is that so?” mom asked, an evil twinkle in her eye. “Joe, we might have a good use for her while she’s here!”

“I agree! We hate mowing the lawn,” he said, grinning at his granddaughter. “If you’re keen on it, I can show you where the mower is.”

She shook her head frantically, which renewed the laughter around the fire. When we’d calmed, mom said she was going for the non-alcoholic wine, and told us to start the s’mores. I was hungry, since we’d had an emotional day, and had eaten kind of early on the trip back. I handed out the skewers and soon, everyone was roasting marshmallows. Mom returned with a couple bottles of wine, and we all settled into a peaceful silence.

“I’m off to bed,” Priscilla said half an hour later, standing and stretching. “Good night guys.”

We all said our good nights, and I smiled; it was only 2230, but she’s always been our early to bed girl. She gets up every morning at seven and goes running in the summer. I’ve never seen the appeal, but she loves it. She doesn’t do sports in school, just runs with a friend who is able to get a ride out to our place every morning early. I suppose it helps that they live two miles north of us and her dad drops her off on his way to work.

“Are you running in the morning?” I asked, before she got into the house.

“Yeah, why?”

“Call Matt, he wants to go with you,” I told her, and she gave me a thumbs up, retreating for her room. I love that mom and dad have kept the house and the girls can have their own rooms; it makes vacation peaceful. “I’ll never figure out how she’s not clumsy like the rest of us.”

“There’s always one,” mom told me, as I grabbed another marshmallow. I love camp fires and s’mores. “We’ve had different family members over the years that were athletically gifted, though most of us are more arts orientated. Speak of which, how is community band going?”

The remainder of the night was much the same. We made small talk, ate ourselves almost sick on s’mores and roasted marshmallows and for once, I relaxed. I mean really relaxed, as in didn’t have a negative thought at all. It was nice, and I know now why we come out here for a month every year. I wouldn’t trade this for the world, to be honest with you. I have my kids, my husband and am fortunate enough to have my parents. I don’t think I could ask for anything better than this.

Four

I felt bad skipping out on everything, but I was exhausted. I don’t even remember getting home or into bed; I just woke up the next morning with Jimmy curled up beside me. I could tell just looking at him that he’d had a couple of drinks the night before, but trusted his family to keep him in line. I smiled at him, glad that he’d been here to support me the last couple of days.

With a bit of a yawn, I stretched, then got out of bed. It was around nine, and I knew I’d slept for quite a while. I must’ve needed it, though, or I wouldn’t have slept like this. What I needed right now was a shower and some food, as I was starving. In another couple of days, we’d be driving Eliza over to Santa Ana to visit art school, and I hope she likes it. That puts her close to her family, which is very important to us. I mean, we’d love for her to be close to us in Iowa, but I don’t see her staying the Midwest now that she’s almost of age.

“Morning Coby,” Barb said, as I entered the kitchen. She handed me a cup of coffee and gestured to the table. “Have a seat and we’ll have some breakfast.”

It wasn’t long before a plate of bacon, scrambled eggs, and waffles was before me, and I eagerly started to eat. When my plate was empty, I went back for more, wondering where this ravenous appetite was coming from. Barb just let me eat, though, and I have a feeling that she wants to talk about something.

“All things considered, how was the trip to your hometown?” she asked, when I’d finally stopped eating. I was pleasantly full now, as I sipped at my second cup of coffee.

“It was good,” I admitted, nodding. I held the white ceramic mug in my hands, feeling the warmth seep from its polished surface. “It was emotional, as I knew it would be, but it was good. My aunt and uncle are taking good care of mom.”

I reached for a tissue, wondering (not for the first time) why she kept Kleenex on her kitchen table. I wiped at my eyes and shook my head.

“Sorry.”

“No apologies,” she told me, waving her hand. She took my hand in hers and squeezed it. “It’s never easy to lose a parent. Trust me, I’ve lost both of mine over the years and it’s never easy. It does get better, people are right, but when it’s your parents, you never truly get over it. You move forward, as you moved forward after you lost Penny, Eleanor, and Hank. And in time, you’ll move forward from losing your mom. But it’s too soon and that’s understandable.”

I nodded, hoping Jimmy wouldn’t wake up any time soon. I’m sure he’s tired of me being emotional, considering that’s all I’ve been for the last two days. I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair and looking outside. It was a little gloomy out today, and I was sure it was going to rain, if my aching arm was any indication.

“I just don’t know how to function without mom,” I admitted, looking back to my mother-in-law. She nodded, but said nothing, which I think is just what I needed. “I mean, I had Eleanor in Iowa and I have you, but I need mom sometimes, you know? I have questions that sometimes only she could answer. I mean, you answer them fine, but sometimes I know it’s something only mom had experience with. I need my mom.”

I felt very silly when I started crying harder, something I know I’ve done. But now I think about it, I hadn’t done it much since we got home from the funeral. I mean I grieved my mom, but I was so busy helping Jimmy with his grief and the kids that I guess I got lost in the shuffle. Now, it was all coming out, as Jimmy’s mom held me tight.

“You haven’t properly grieved in the last six months, have you, Coby?” she asked gently, as a never ending river of tears cascaded down my face.

“No,” I told her, shaking my head. “I was too busy. Jimmy was on the verge of a mental breakdown, losing Hank and mom so close together, the kids had so many questions and I couldn’t leave Jimmy alone for a long time. I didn’t know what he’d do, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t trust him with the kids alone, either. I had to be the grown up in the house, you know? I didn’t think about it until now, because I thought I was doing okay, but I never had my time to grieve.”

“Take your time now,” she advised, as I took a deep breath. “Death is a cruel enemy, Jacoby, and there’s nothing we can do about that.”

Barb is a woman of wisdom, let me tell you. I don’t know how she comes up with this stuff, but she’s always got a good point. She doesn’t have to say a word to make you realize that she’s there for you and that she cares. I just let her hold me, which of course made me miss my mother even more; she gave some of the best hugs when I was upset and she went through hell with me and Jimmy. When I felt more composed, I pulled back and sat up, accepting the entire box of conveniently placed tissues.

“Thank you.”

Barb shook her head as I wiped my eyes and nose. “You don’t have to thank me,” she assured me, as movement caught my attention. “You needed that, and I was glad to help.”

I watched Jimmy settle at the table with coffee and cereal, a cautious look on his face. Without verbally asking, as he poured the milk over the cereal, his eyes asked what had happened.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I explained, and he nodded, his face relaxing into a smile. “I guess I just had a mom moment, that’s all. Your mom kind of got the brunt of things.”

“I was glad to help. He needed his chance to really grieve and he got it,” she told her son, shaking her head at his breakfast. “Had you waited, I would’ve cooked for you, you know. Do you at least want some bacon?”

“And eggs?” he asked hopefully, mixing the dry cereal into the milk. “Because that sounds better than cereal, but you looked busy.”

I had to laugh as his mom hurriedly dumped his prepared cereal down the drain, gave him some coffee, and inside of 10 minutes, had set a plate of waffles, bacon, and eggs in front of him. Jimmy thanked his mother and eagerly dug in, as my girls started to filter in, no doubt dragged from bed by the smell of food. I swear they have a hollow leg, the way these two eat.

“Sit, sit! Grandpa will be back later; he had a meeting at church, then coffee with a friend. After that, we’re all going out to eat for dinner and then spending the day at the beach. I’m going to get the picnic for tonight going. Jimmy, there’s a jazz band playing on the Pier tonight, so I thought we’d all go to that.”

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed, taking another helping of breakfast. My stomach rumbled and Barb handed me a plate, ever the mother. “Thanks for breakfast, mom.”

She just smiled, and I could see the pride in her eyes, watching her family at the table. The day we finally found Jimmy’s family has, I’m sure, been one of the proudest of her life. After a moment, she turned and went to the basement, no doubt in search of a cooler. I had to smile one of the few smiles I’ve had in the last few months. She was going to take care of us, of that I had no doubt.

***

“Thanks for coming grandpa,” Eliza said, as we drove over to Santa Ana. The traffic was its usual horrible self today, but we were on time so far. Jimmy was down with an asthma attack, so Joe was coming along in his place. Barb had promised to keep me updated on Jimmy through the day, but I still worried. He’d wanted to come along for this so badly, but if he can’t breathe, he can’t walk around campus. “I hope I like this campus. I have two other visits in August when we get back, but those are in Illinois and Minnesota. I like California better.”

“You’ve got a natural drawing talent, so any school will be happy to have you. But hopefully this school is right for you. And if not, there are other California schools as well. Grandma and I can always host you for a visit to another if needed.”

I smiled when Eliza got visibly excited, as I finally made the exit for Santa Ana. She’d been understandably upset when Jimmy’s asthma had acted up and it had taken a while for the storm clouds over her head to clear. My phone beeped, and I handed it to Joe, since we had a no phone use rule in the car. It applied primarily to Eliza, who thinks she’s some hotshot driver who can text as well, but it’s good for all of us, really.

“Barb says that Jimmy is doing somewhat better. She gave him another breathing treatment and he’s managed to get some extra sleep. If he’s not better by noon, she’ll take him into the ER for treatment.”

“All right. God I hate when this happens. He was so excited about this and his asthma has been under excellent control of late, too.”

“Don’t worry, dad,” Eliza said, ever the voice of reason. “It’s probably just his allergies or something.”

“The pollen counts are up today,” Joe reminded me, and I nodded. Different state, different allergens, but trees, weeds, and grass are pretty universal, and Jimmy’s allergic to all of them. “I wouldn’t worry; if all else fails both sisters are nurses, so they can help as well.”

“I know, but I can’t help it. He’s had some horrible attacks lately, and some worse exacerbations, and I don’t want him in the hospital.”

I managed to find a parking spot and asked Eliza to get her packet of information out. With that in hand, we followed the instructions to get to check in, and then it was time to stand around and wait. I hate waiting, but I was patient for my daughter’s sake. I guess that’s the downside to being an EMT: we’re always ready to go and can’t seem to sit still when we need to.

“Good morning everyone!” a voice said, causing most of us to jump. I turned and saw a petite woman standing at a microphone, motioning for everyone to sit down. “My name is Margret Lynn, president of Art Institute California, Santa Ana. I’d like to welcome everyone to our senior visit day and I hope you enjoy the campus. Now, a few things of business and then we’ll get started.”

There were a few rules to impart, mostly cautions that some construction was going on, and a couple of buildings that weren’t open in the summer. There were group campus tours, times to chat with professors, and chances to actually use the facilities. Eliza had brought some of her drawings to enter into a scholarship contest, and I hoped she had a good chance of winning. One of them was a portrait of Jimmy and me drawn on our twentieth wedding anniversary. It was my favorite, and I was so proud of it; we had a copy hanging in our bedroom.

“Those of you entering the scholarship contest need to meet with Regan when we adjourn here,” Margaret instructed, gesturing to the left. “All entrants will be on display until March, when your entries will be returned to you with the results of the contest. After that, you’re free to explore, chat with professors and take campus tours. We have information booths set up in all of the buildings and a couple outside, so if you have any questions, feel free to stop by. With that, I want to say have a great day and we’ll see you all back here at noon for lunch!”

With that, we dispersed, Eliza heading right for Regan, the person heading the contest for scholarships. I could tell my daughter was nervous as she clutched the envelope with her two drawings. I assured her that the drawing of her dad and me was bound to win one of the scholarships, and the drawing of a summer stormy sky was going to help as well. She’s very talented, though she sometime doubts herself, as most talented folks do.

“Name?”

“Eliza Shaddix,” she said, spelling the last name. It was second nature by now for the kids to spell that.

“How many entries?”

This is very robotic, I thought.

“Two. One portrait and one still life.”

“Let’s have a look,” the woman, whom I assumed was Regan, said, smiling. Eliza handed over the envelope and bit her lower lip. The papers were slid out, in their protective covers and the woman nodded. “Lovely stormy sky. I’m from Lamoni, Iowa, so this brings back good summer time memories as a child. Who is in this drawing?”

She was gesturing to the portrait. Jimmy and I are standing, hugging each other, with smiles on our faces. No kissing or anything, just standing and smiling, hugging each other. Really, we could be best friends for all anyone knew.

“Those are my parents,” she said, with a proud smile on their face. “I drew that on their twentieth anniversary.”

“It looks amazing! I’ll go ahead and get these labeled and into the contest for you. Good luck!”

Eliza nodded, making sure the woman had everything she needed, clarifying a couple of things and then we were off. The campus was nice and it seemed reasonably small. She chatted up a few of the professors and seemed pleased afterward. What I hadn’t counted on occurred as we were eating, however.

We took seats at a table that was relatively empty. Joe recognized someone from his church and so it seemed logical to sit with them. Conversation started off well enough, as the adults fell into a comfortable topic about sending kids to school. The kids started talking about art, of course, and all was going well. Then, one of the girls at the table, Summer, asked Eliza a question.

“I saw your entry for the scholarship contest; who were the men you drew?” she asked, and the question seemed innocent.

“Those are my parents,” she answered proudly, smiling at me. “That was their twentieth wedding anniversary.”

“Oh. You have two dads?”

Eliza nodded, since she was accustomed to the question. Even in this day and age, she still got a strange look now and again about having two dads. It’s common now, but there are still the holdouts.

“Huh. Weird. Well, good luck with a scholarship; I bet they don’t give them out to people with gay parents. Are you gay as well?”

“No, I’m not,” Eliza said, getting defensive. Once in a while we still encounter discrimination, though we’ve taught the girls how to deal with it.

“Summer! That’s quite enough!” her father admonished her, glaring daggers at her. Her mother was hiding behind a napkin and I could read the embarrassment on her face clearly. “We raised you better than that. Apologize right now!”

Summer shrugged, but ignored her father’s directive. Eliza looked crushed, but I knew she wouldn’t cry in front of everyone. This has happened before, after all, and we taught her to remain strong.

“All right everyone,” Margaret was back and just in time. I have a feeling, though, that we’re going to have to watch Eliza and Summer the remainder of the day. “Once everyone has eaten, we’ll split everyone into groups. The prospective students will go into seminars to learn about the programs we offer and a financial aid course. The parents will be offered a chance to relax, visit with the financial aid office, and other professors. Any questions you might have about everything from housing to classes will be answered. In the mean time, enjoy your lunch.”

We were done eating, thankfully, and I escorted Eliza into the hall. She was seething and I rubbed her shoulders trying to calm her down.

“Oh that girl!” she seethed, taking a deep breath as I instructed. “I’ll try to ignore her, dad, but she makes me so mad!”

“I know. Just ignore her. I’ll talk to her dad during the parent sessions, okay?”

Eliza nodded and went to the bathroom to calm down. I had no idea what I was going to say to Summer’s dad, but I had some time to figure that out.

Five


Today is the day Eliza has been looking forward to for a long time now. We’re getting ready to head to Santa Ana for her art school visit. I told her to get up early and she did exactly as asked, and is now sitting at the table, having some coffee and breakfast with us.

“Are you excited?” Mom asked, as we finished eating.

“Yes! I really, really want to go here, so I hope this visit goes really well. I’m very excited at the prospect of going to school there.”

With that, breakfast was over, and I told Eliza to get showered and dressed. I was going to run some laundry before we left, figuring we might as well keep up on it. We don’t bring a lot of clothes with us, since we have laundry here, after all, and I know I’m running low on stuff.

“Who’s got clothes to wash?” I called into the upstairs hallway and was soon bombarded with laundry baskets. “Thanks.”

I got everything sorted and headed downstairs with it. Mom always scolds me for not letting her do the laundry, but there’s no reason for her to do all of it. She’s good enough to let us stay and in return, we should help out a little around the house. I decided to start with shirts, spotting one of Priscilla’s favorites on top of the pile. She’ll want that soon, so I tossed it in, feeling my hands start itching. I shrugged it off and finished loading the washer. As I was adding soap, I started to feel a little lightheaded and felt my chest getting tight.

“You need any help?” Mom called from the top of the stairs. I was already wheezing, as I managed to get the soap in and close the lid, pushing the start button. “Jimmy?”

I walked over to the stairs, then bent over to catch my breath. I could hear mom running down the stairs, calling for Jacoby, and soon, I was on the couch with a mask over my face. Jacoby was watching me with worry on his face, rubbing anti-itch cream all over my hands and arms. I have no idea what’s causing this reaction, but I’m feeling very miserable right now.

“You guys need to get going,” Mom told him, as Eliza came into the room. She didn’t mean to look disappointed, but it showed clearly on her face.

“I’m not leaving Jimmy,” Jacoby said, and I shook my head. “I’m not leaving you. We can reschedule.”

I watched Eliza leave the room, her head hanging low. I didn’t want her to miss this, considering how excited she’s been so I mustered up some air.

“Go.”

“Jim—“

“Go.”

Jacoby seemed to struggle for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. But I want you to see a doctor, got me? This is an allergic reaction to something and I want you checked out.”

I nodded, as I listened to dad talk to Eliza, offering to go along. She agreed, but I knew some of her excitement had waned a bit. I leaned back on the couch and worked to pull in a deep breath. I knew mom would take good care of me, and hopefully we can treat this at home. I accepted a Benadryl from my mother and hoped it would at least knock me out.

***

“Time for another breathing treatment.”

I cracked my sleepy eyes open, glad that the medication was working. The thing is I’m not even sure what triggered me! While I was awake earlier, Mom looked up pollen counts, but there’s nothing horrible out there. It’s hot out, so the air is on, which means no allergens inside the house. Mom dusts when we’re out of the house, so that’s not a concern. They don’t have a dog, so I’m stumped.

I was pretty useless at this point, as any movement winded me. Mom had helped me to the bathroom earlier and I almost passed out. She had to do everything for me, which sucked, but I don’t get a choice. We’re even using the mask that her nebulizer came with (it beats flying ours out) rather than the wand. That’s how weak I am right now, and I hate this. I know that if I don’t start getting better soon, mom’s hauling me into the hospital, which is going to suck as well.

“Jimmy?”

I opened my eyes a crack and looked up into mom’s eyes, squinting a bit. I’m pretty out of it right now, which you would be as well if you couldn’t breathe. She was saying something, but I wasn’t able to catch it. Rather, I drifted back to sleep, curious when I felt myself moving. It wasn’t until I fully opened my eyes that I registered what had happened.

“Hey.”

“Shit,” I muttered, taking in the obvious ER room. “Where am I?”

“Huntington Beach hospital,” she explained and I sighed. “You’re likely not staying since you’re coming out of it now. Priscilla figured out what triggered you, by the way.”

“Oh?” I asked, coughing harshly. I had a mask over my nose and mouth and figured that was for oxygen.

“There’s a new family next door and they have a dog,” she said, and I sighed. I hate dogs. “Apparently, they have a daughter Priscilla’s age, so she was over to visit last night. She didn’t know they had a dog until she was leaving and got jumped on. She couldn’t really walk in naked, so she hoped she could quick get upstairs to change before it affected you. You must’ve handled her clothes in the laundry room, since that’s where the attack started.”

I nodded, realizing that she was right and that it explained the hives as well. I know that Priscilla was just doing what she thought best in the situation, so I wasn’t upset with her. Speaking of, where is she?

“Where is Cilla?” I asked, coughing again. This is what dogs do to me, in case you were wondering.

“She’s at the house with Katie. She feels terrible and she didn’t want to come out. You’ll have to talk to her when we get home. Right now, they’re cleaning and making sure we can safely bring you inside.”

I nodded, wondering what time it was. “What time is it? I imagine Eliza’s visit is almost over.”

“It’s around two. I called Jacoby and he said they had an incident at lunch, but it was dealt with. They have afternoon seminars now, and should be home around eight or nine tonight. But she’s happy and she loves the campus. I have a feeling she’s going to apply, as she’s entered into a scholarship contest and everything.”

“Good for—her,” I said, pausing for a moment. Breathing is coming in spurts right now, and I hate when that happens. “I feel like shit.”

Mom took my hand and nodded, probably able to read that clearly on my face. The steroids I get at times like these are hell on my system and I hate them. The problem is that I need them to be able to breathe.

“Hello, Mr. Sullivan. Good to see you awake,” a voice said, as a tall man in a white lab coat walked into my little room. “How are you feeling?”

I sighed, pulling in a deep breath. “Like shit, but I know that’s the medication. Do I get to go home soon?”

The doctor seemed neutral and I hoped he wasn’t going to make me stay. I can feel like shit at home and it’s cheaper. Insurance won’t exactly cover this and if things go like normal, I’ll have this problem again when we get home.

“I’m going to monitor you for another couple of hours before I decide if you’re going to be admitted or not. Your mother tells me you are very allergic to dogs?”

“Deathly allergic, no kidding. Apparently, my daughter had been next door, where a new family moved in. She didn’t know they had a dog until it jumped on her on her way out. I put in a load of clothes this morning and apparently, those clothes were in the load. I thought something—weird—was—up,” I paused to cough. “when my hands broke out and I started itching. But it wasn’t until I couldn’t breathe that I realized something was wrong.”

The doctor nodded, making notes in my chart. “It’s understandable then, that this wasn’t avoided. I would suggest making sure the house has been scoured, which I’m sure you know to do anyway. Also, I would re-wash the load of clothes that contained the allergen; there’s a chance that the allergen is now on all the clothes and in the washer basin. We’ll see how you do you in a couple of hours and then we’ll discuss whether or not you’re going home.”

I nodded, as mom thanked the doctor. “I’m going to call home and see how cleaning is going. That way, they can get the washer clean as well, if they run it empty first and then we’ll make sure the clothes are washed before you get home. Perhaps they can make mention to the neighbors about the allergy and make sure all precautions are taken.”

I nodded, feeling a little winded at the moment. I know this is just par for the course of an attack of this nature, but it still sucks. I closed my eyes, trying to slow my breathing and get either to sleep or at least meditate a little. Sometimes, that helps, I suppose because of the slower breathing. Either way, it’s better than all of the steroids I was getting.

“There are precautions in that room,” a voice said, as I was starting to drift to sleep. “Since I know you have a dog at home, you won’t be able to treat him; he’s allergic to the point of anaphylaxis.”

“Sounds good. We should get the signs out, then, since there aren’t any out right now.”

“Good idea.”

I shrugged, figuring the staff was just looking out for me. I appreciated it, as I drifted to sleep, hopeful that I’d be able to get home soon.

***

“Now, you rest, you hear me?” mom asked, as we walked in the house. I was released mostly because I refused to stay. She settled me into a recliner, set the nebulizer nearby and then asked if I needed anything.

“Just some water,” I told her, smiling. She means well, but I don’t like being fussed over. I grabbed my phone while she went into the kitchen and checked messages. There was one from Jacoby saying they were on their way home. I looked up when mom walked back in and accepted a glass of water from her. “Jacoby just texted that they are on their way home, so we’ll be able to see how Eliza’s day went.”

“I guess there was an incident at lunch, but your dad didn’t elaborate,” mom said, settling down on the couch. Priscilla came into the room with her head down and threw herself onto the couch. “What’s the matter, Cilla?”

“I’m sorry dad,” she whispered, her voice wavering. I knew she was going to cry and I gestured for her to come over and sit with me. I pulled her into a hug and tried to calm her down. “I didn’t know and I thought you’d be okay if I got changed right away. I even shook my clothes out the window, but I guess it didn’t help.”

“It’s not your fault,” I assured her, rubbing her back. She looked at me, tears rolling down her face, and I nodded. “You did the right thing. You couldn’t really run around naked, after all.”

That got a laugh out of her, and she smiled at me, wiping her face. “It’s really okay?”

“It’s really okay. You tried and that’s what counts. I’m going to be fine, so try not to worry, okay?”

She nodded, standing to leave the room. I was glad she felt better and I hoped we could put the incident behind us. I looked over at mom and moved to speak, but was interrupted when Eliza stormed inside and up to her room. Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Oh my days, rebellious teenage Shaddixes?! This could be interesting!

I love this family so much, it's cool to see the personalities that have developed in Eliza and Cilla, and I can't wait to see how things pan out with Eliza and Johnny at the tattoo shop. Can't wait for the next installment

Welcome back! So far, I'm on a regular posting schedule, so will be posting on odd numbered days. I'm pretty far ahead in chapters,so that should be able to continue.

Oh things are never anything but interesting for our family, are they? I did have an idea (for the chapters I'm currently writing) but scrapped it last night; it was too much too soon. I need to do something different first and move that to closer to the end =).


Here is the next chapter!

***

Six


I thought things had blown over from lunch, but I guess I was wrong. When we got home, Eliza went storming inside, slamming her bedroom door behind her. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose and went right to Jimmy. He looked pale but otherwise okay. I knew he’d been in the ER and I knew the cause of his attack, but I still wanted to make sure he was okay.

“I’m fine.”

“Is that any way to greet your husband when he’s been gone all day?” I joked, causing Jimmy to laugh. I flinched when he started coughing and rubbed his back to help him breathe. “Sorry.”

“No worries. But really, I’m doing fine. They kept me a little longer in the ER, but I refused to be admitted. Everything has been taken care of, and Kelly even spoke with the neighbors about the problem. They felt horrible, but understood the problem. Their daughter is coming over tomorrow, but she’s got some new, never been in their house, clothes to keep here, as well as some shoes to prevent any further problems. We’re not sure how to work out Priscilla visiting over there, since she can’t keep clothes there, but we’ll come up with something.”

I thought for a moment, since it was apparent that a summer friendship was starting; that meant frequent trips next door and we needed an immediate solution. Finally I figured out the best solution, since it’s what we do back home.

“Have Priscilla pack a small bag with a change of clothes. She can change outside in the shed near the pool and you never go in there anyway,” I suggested and watched Jimmy mull this over in his mind. “Sound like a plan?”

He nodded, yawning, which caused me to move. I’d settled onto his lap, but with a yawn like that, I bet he’s off to bed. Sure enough, he stood up, grabbing the nebulizer and saying his good nights. I followed him upstairs, intent on talking to Eliza once he’d gone to bed.

“So, what happened over dinner?” he asked, as he changed and settled onto the bed for another breathing treatment. He sounds better, so I hope this is the only problem he has. “I saw her go storming up the stairs when you all got home.”

I sighed, sitting on the bed next to him. He hates it when his children are upset, as does any father, and I didn’t want to upset him tonight.

“Don’t spare my feelings, Coby. I’m feeling much better,” he told me, his voice slightly muffled by the mask from the nebulizer.

“I know. Well, we were eating dinner with a friend of Joe’s. I guess this guy’s daughter, Summer, is looking at the same school. She asked Eliza about the portrait she entered for the scholarship, the one of us from our twentieth? Eliza was very proud and explained it was us in the picture. Summer insulted her and us and Eliza got really upset. Her father told her to apologize, but she didn’t, her parents were mortified and I took Eliza to calm down. We managed to avoid them the remainder of the day, but at the end, we realized we were parked close. If Joe hadn’t gotten to Eliza in time, Summer might’ve had a couple black eyes and a broken nose. That’s why she’s upset. Summer’s folks have apologized profusely, and I’ve accepted their apology, but Eliza is just pissed.”

He nodded, and in a way, I know he understood. After all, we’re a non-traditional family, even in this day and age and we get a lot of hate still. We’ve learned how to deal with it, but it’s harder for the kids since they’re still so young.

“We’ll talk to her in the morning,” he decided and I agreed, standing so he could get into bed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Hope you feel better in the morning.”

I kissed him, then left the room, knocking quietly on Eliza’s door. She told me to come in, and I found her curled up on the guest bed, clutching a small teddy bear she’s had since she was born. I knew she was crying, as I sat on the bed and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why do people hate you?” she asked and I was a little taken aback. “I mean, it’s perfectly normal for people to have two fathers, isn’t it?”

“Yes and no. We have moved into an age of acceptance, but there are still some people who won’t accept us no matter what. You have to remember to ignore those people and not let them get to you. I know Summer was provoking you on purpose, but next time, you have to ignore her, okay?”

“I’ll try, but she just made me so mad. I have every right to go to that school and she doesn’t get to have any say in the matter.”

I nodded, rubbing her back and watching as she sat up, wiping her face. “I know, honey. You’ll just have to remember that some people are still closed minded. Her parents have apologized and I’ve put the incident behind us. You should do the same.”

She nodded, hugging me, then asked if she could go outside for a bit.

“You’re an adult, do as you wish,” I told her, smiling. “Just let me know if you’re leaving the area, okay?”

She nodded again, making me wonder why teenagers barely speak. After that, she hopped off the bed, and asked me to step out while she changed. I did as she asked, hurrying from the room, and back downstairs, wondering how to spend my evening. It was only around nine, and I wasn’t really tired. I made sure that all precautions had been taken against the dog next door, then retired to the back porch. I’d left a book out here the other night and I wanted to keep reading. It was a nice night out, not hot or cold, and I could finally relax after the drama of the day.

“Night dad,” Priscilla said a few minutes later. I hadn’t even realized she was out here, but given her attire, she must’ve been on the beach.

“Night Cilla,” I answered, waving at her. I heard the screen door click shut and settled back into my book.

“I’m going out with a couple of the girls next door!” Eliza called half an hour later, leaning out her bedroom window. “Be back later!”

“Be safe! No drinking!” I called back and I know she rolled her eyes at me. I chuckled, then settled back in with my book. I know I trust her, but she’s a teenager and we all know how teenagers are, don’t we? “And for god’s sake don’t go home with anyone.”

I managed to finish my book without further interruption and finally made my way to bed around midnight. I snuggled into Jimmy, wondering what tomorrow would bring and if Eliza was safe. I had my phone nearby just in case, but a dad always worries.

***

I reached over groggily and grabbed my ringing phone, wondering who in the world would be calling me at…grief, four in the morning. My eyes squinted and I panicked at Eliza’s name on the screen. She should be home by now and I sprinted from my bed, dressing as I answered the phone.

“Liza? What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“Dad calm down! We’re fine, but my friend’s car broke down and we need a ride. We’re in Central Park.”

I sighed with relief and told the girls I’d be right down. I instructed them to stay in the car with the doors locked, even though the area is fairly safe. I heard Jimmy sit up in bed and then he asked where I was going.

“Eliza’s out with friends and their car broke down; I’m going to pick them up.”

He stood up, placing his glasses on his face and slipped into pants and a t-shirt. “I’ll go along. She wasn’t drunk, was she?”

“She didn’t sound it,” I told him, grabbing my keys and wallet. We quietly left the house, surprised to find Joe getting his van out of the garage. “Joe?”

“I’m going to pick up Eliza from Central Park. What are you guys doing up?”

“Same thing you are. What’s going on here?” I wondered, as we piled into the vehicle. “I also want to know why she’s still out at four in the morning.”

The ride was silently tense as we neared the park, and I spotted the girls, sitting outside their car. A couple were smoking, though I noticed Eliza was not among them. She was standing a bit further off, nearer the car and waved when she saw us.

“Why are you still out at four in the morning?” Jimmy demanded, as we got out and approached the group. The smokers were quick to snub out their cancer sticks and approach us, spritzing on perfume, as if that would help cover the smell up. “You know your curfew is one during the summer.”

Eliza shrugged and I checked for signs of drunkenness. She doesn’t seem intoxicated and she might be a little offended that I was looking her over.

“We were having fun, sorry,” she mouthed off, and I shook my head. “Can’t I have fun with my friends? I only get to see them once a year, after all.”


Jimmy started moving everyone toward the van, after calling a tow company to come get the car. It would be taken to a local garage for repair and dealt with in the morning. For now, we have six teenagers to get back home.

“That’s beside the point. You’re grounded for three days for breaking curfew,” Jimmy told her and I didn’t disagree. I know she’s mad, but she knows the rules.

“That’s not fair!” she whined, slumping down in her seat. “You can’t just ground me for that!”

“I can and I have. If you are caught sneaking out, it’ll be three more days,” he said and she scoffed, kicking his seat. He gave her a glare and she snapped her mouth shut, sighing. “Now, as soon as the car is dealt with, we’ll get everyone home. I imagine your parents are just as irritated.”

No comment from the peanut gallery, I noticed. I suppose the smokers will be in extra deep if their parents are as against smoking as we are. Eliza knows it’s not good for her asthma, after all, and there are steep consequences if she’s caught.

“Do I get to do anything tomorrow?” she asked defiantly, as Joe supervised the tow truck operator.

“No, you don’t. Since the rest of us are having a beach day, we’ll arrange to have someone stay with you. If no one can stay with you, then you can come along, but you won’t be able to do anything but sit on a blanket.”

“Better than sitting at home,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Car is dealt with, so let’s get everyone home,” Joe said, getting back in the car. I’m sure the tension was palpable, but he didn’t mention it. “Who’s getting dropped off first?”

It took another twenty minutes to get everyone home and finally, at five we were back in bed. By then, Barb was up, since she was going walking with a friend and had an early meeting for hospital volunteers. She’d be back by nine for beach day, she promised, and wanted to hear the full story then. I was too tired to care, but said good night anyway and crawled back in bed, hopeful for another few hours of sleep.

“Why did we decide to have kids again?” I asked, as Jimmy and I cuddled. I was tracing one of the tattoos on his chest and felt him kiss the top of my head.

“Because we were crazy,” he decided and I had to laugh. “But all things considered, I wouldn’t trade them for the world. They love us, even if they say otherwise, and they really aren’t that bad most of the time.”

“True. Can’t wait to deal with Queen Cranky in the morning,” I said, closing my eyes. He was massaging my back and I was gradually drifting to sleep.

“Hmm,” he agreed, as I finally gave into the pull of sleep.

Oh Jimmy. You foolish foolish man, why didn't you just talk to Jack? After all this, everything you have been through.

God it's so good to be back with these fics, I found myself actually holding my breath when Coby was reaming Cilla, and then when Jim came home.

I feel like the first part of the story was a little disjointed, but I think around here is when it finally gels together for me. The things that they are going to face, etc., really came together here. At first, I almost cut this part, with Jimmy drinking and such, but then I realized it was almost the natural progression of things, you know? He's always dealt with stuff "his way", right or wrong, and this was just "his way" of doing things.

Priscilla is an interesting character for me. I have been 14/15 for a LONG time, but I imagine I'd have had a similar attitude to hers. I think deep down inside, she knows what's going on and she knows it's real, but she's 14, and her dad's health concerns take a lot from her. There could certainly be some jealously here.

I don't think it is that disjointed, and that's coming from someone who has had a 3 month break from these stories! I think what you are maybe feeling (at least my interp-retation) is the time jump. Going from Cilla aged 1 to 14, it's a big leap, and one that takes some getting used to. But the girls have such defined personalities that I don't think it takes that long to adjust.

I'm glad it doesn't come across disjointed to anyone else =)! I agree that the time jump is a big one and it does take some getting used to. I wasn't sure where to start, but this seemed like the most logical place to start with these guys again. Kind of see where the teenage years take them, how everyone is doing. I keep trying to write Hank, in though, and I can't, which is very frustrating. I think we all kind of thought he'd live forever, but he didn't.

I'm excited for this story and for people to see where the next chapters go. Teenagers are tough to raise and these two are going to find that out in spades!!

I think you are absolutely right to have picked up the family at this point. Cilla is just into her teens, and Liza is about to head to college, this is a big time for any family, especially one with the troubles that the Shaddix family has.

I'm so excited to keep up with this one, need to make sure I sneak on the computer more often

I worry about Jimmy, though. He lost Hank and Jeanette so close together and then in the fall (or earlier) Eliza will head for California to begin college (or not, haven't decided what she'll do yet), so that's more big changes for him. I think he can handle it, but he's going to have to work very hard to do so.

He needs to let Coby help, between the two of them they can get through it, but not if Jimmy tries to do it all on his own again!

I think Jimmy knows that but you remember how stubborn that man is? I think they both know what should happen, it's a question of if it will or not. I tried to tone down the fighting between these two, but that's kind of what makes them. These two control their own story so it's always an interesting time writing them. I just hope Jimmy starts to realize that, as usual, he can't do this alone.

I hope he does before it is too late

Me, too!

Okay, I gotta go buy "congratulations on your new baby" cards. one of my best friends and my cousin have given birth this week so need to get my post on

Have a great day and welcome back!!

*off to spend the day with Lyra*

Ah, it's good to be back. Debating posting the first chapter of my fanfic on here to see what people think...I'll keep musing on that while I walk to the store. Have fun with Lyra!

Somehow, I messed up the chapters over here. I'm going to do some deleting and reposting, so bear with me. New chapter will be posted when I'm done.

I didn't realize until now that chapters were also missing...my apologies! Hopefully things will make more sense and you'll get the full story now. So, here are the missing chapters followed by the new one.

***

Seven

Queen Crabby continues her reign today. I’m about *this* close to cancelling beach day, but I know that everyone would be pissed. Therefore, I’ve arranged (okay, bribed) my friend Johnny to stay with her. He has today off from the tattoo shop, so he agreed (at the price of a case of beer and some pizza for supper) to sit with my crabby teenage daughter. You might be wondering why, at 18, she essentially needs a babysitter. The truth is that I trust her and she stays home alone quite often; but when she’s grounded, she’s not to be left alone. The second we leave, she’ll watch out the window and then she’s out of the house and hanging with her friends. Based on the text messages coming from her phone (which we took away after she used it at the breakfast table) her friends are just as grounded.

“I hate you!” she shouted at me, slamming her bedroom door shut after breakfast.

“Too bad. You’ve hated me before,” I said, with a shrug. I was making sure we had everything we needed for our long day out, with a much happier child than the one we were leaving behind. “Now, you are not to leave this house, you do not get your cell phone, and Johnny knows the rules, young lady. You’re welcome to stay in your room and pout all day if you like, but you will not see any friends and you will not leave this house.”

“Fuck you!” she shouted and I chuckled.

“That would be incest, honey, and that’s against the law. Lofty day!”

I grinned as I made my way downstairs, bringing our beach bag. Mom was packing the cooler with plenty of ice and food, and dad was packing another cooler with beverages. We had quite a variety, I could see, and I was ready for a beer. I know it’s the only one I can have, but after last night, I need something.

“How’s Eliza?” mom asked, as she snapped the lid down on the cooler. I shook my head, pinching the bridge of my nose; for all my jesting upstairs, it really is quite frustrating.

“Mad at me, of course. I told her the rules and she’s pissed off.”

Mom nodded, as the doorbell sounded, and Johnny walked in. We embraced for a moment and I went over the rules for Eliza. He nodded his understanding and I blinked when I saw a black duffel bag in his hand.

“What’s in the bag?”

He lifted it up to show me, as we moved into the living room. “Well, she’s grounded right? Bored, can’t see her friends, no cell phone, etc. I talked to Matt and Zach and they approved my plan. In here, I have a few things she can practice tattooing on. The stuff acts like human skin, but it’s for practice so she can mess up as much as she wants with no consequences. I know she’s off to art school, but she’s shown a big interest in tattoos, so I thought I’d try to pass the day with her like this.”

“Sounds good to me. But she can’t have a tattoo until her attitude turns around. I know she’s got a couple already, though she thinks we don’t know about them. If she follows the rules the next three days, Jacoby and I agreed we’d pay for a tattoo.”

“Sounds good,” Johnny agreed, as everyone started gathering in the hallway. “Hey, Coby.”

“Johnny. How’s business?”

“Good. Glad to have a day off, if I’m honest. How’s the hospital?”

Jacoby shrugged. “Same shit, different day. Glad for the month off, even with the crabby kid. She’ll get over it.”

“You guys have fun today. I’ll keep her occupied and she’ll forget all about being grounded. If nothing else, she’ll learn to tattoo, because I can tell she’s got a talent for it,” he said, as we started moving toward the door.

“Thanks again for doing this. Pizza money is on the counter in an envelope with your name on it. Eliza hasn’t seen it yet, so I’d grab it now. Beer’s in the fridge,” I told him, then picked up my share of stuff and moved toward the van. I glanced toward Eliza’s room and shook my head when she flipped me off. “Whatever.”

***

As predicted, beach day was relaxing and fun. We grilled out for supper and are just now getting home, after watching the sunset. It was beautiful and I was glad we got to see it. Hopefully, Eliza can come to the next one. I had one beer and one glass of wine, but I’m not even tipsy. Jacoby didn’t seem to want to let the glass of wine through, but mom convinced him and things are fine. I’m not drinking Eliza’s bad day away.

“We doing mocktails tonight?” Priscilla asked, as we unloaded the van. Dad was off to make a fire on the deck, and I nodded, noticing that only the living room light was on. I could see Eliza bent over the coffee table in concentration. “I want to, at least.”

“I have grenadine, so we should,” mom said and I agreed. A mocktail would be a good end to the day. “Let’s get this put away and then grandpa should have the fire started.”

I nodded, helping unpack once we were inside. I was eager to get back outside, as it’s not humid or overly hot. When we walked in, Johnny waved, and I heard the familiar buzz of a tattoo gun. Eliza was working on what looked like an intricate design and I didn’t want to interrupt her.

“Come out if you want,” I told Johnny and he nodded, as we moved into the kitchen. Once everything was unpacked, I grabbed the wine glasses. “Mom, do you want us to use the Sprite or the Pepsi?”

“Whichever.”

I grabbed the Sprite, figuring less caffeine is a good idea, then took it outside, ready to bartend. I only hope Eliza had a good day today. She seems happy right now, but it’s hard to say how long it’s going to stay that way when she sees us. She might be happy, but most likely, she’s still pissed at us, which is typical of her age. I don’t mind, really, though it does suck when your daughter is mad at you.

“Some bartender.”

I jumped, laughing when I saw Jack sitting next to me, holding out his glass. With a shake of my head, I reached for the Sprite and poured him a mocktail, getting myself one as well. He glanced over at me, and I realized we were alone for the time being.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, sipping at his drink. Just for fun, I stuck a little umbrella in it. “You were awfully engrossed in that fire just now. You’re thinking about Eliza, right? Let it go, Jimmy. You did the right thing and she knows that. I know it sucks when she’s mad at us, but in the end, she’s 18 and it’s part and parcel of being a parent.”

I nodded, sipping at my drink, as my family came out back. “I know. But why would she break curfew? She’s never done that before. I mean, I can tell she was sober and clean when we got home, and I know it wasn’t the short time she sees her friends, either. I wish I knew what was going through her head.”

“She’s a teenager, you don’t want to know,” dad said, and I laughed, as they all sat around the fire. A few minutes later, Johnny and Eliza joined us. “Who wants Jimmy to bartend for them?”

A show of hands went up and I busied myself pouring “drinks” for them. The beer I’d had earlier was already through my system and I felt the urge to get good and smashed. I guess a sugar hangover is going to have to be enough in the morning. At least with the mocktails, I can ‘drink my problems away’ without the consequences.

“All right. Well, it’s a beautiful night, we’ve had a fun day, I vote we all relax,” mom said, and I raised my glass to that. “But before that, I believe Eliza has something to say.”

I glanced over at my daughter, who had her head down, examining the sand around the in-ground fire pit. I wondered what she had to say, though I hoped it was either an explanation or an apology.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, so quietly I barely heard her. Johnny nudged her with his foot and she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. My friends and I went to a party and we didn’t realize how late it was. When we did, we started for home, but Clarice’s car broke down. I had two mixed drinks and one beer that night, but I swear I wasn’t drunk. I didn’t touch any drugs, but I did have some cigarettes. So I deserve to be grounded.”

There was silence for a moment before I put my drink aside and went to my daughter. Honestly, it takes a lot of courage to admit what she did and I pulled her into a hug. It doesn’t make it right, necessarily, but I want her to know that while I’m not happy, I’m glad she was able to do that.

“Are you still mad?”

“Yes, but not as mad as I was. It takes courage to admit what you did like that and so that makes me less mad. Just don’t do it again, okay?”

She nodded, as I went to sit down, and then Jacoby asked her how her day was. She smiled big and I relaxed; clearly, she had a great time with Johnny, which I had hoped for. In a sense, he’s taken her under his wing and is the one who convinced her that art school might be a good choice.

“I had a great day! Johnny followed dad’s rules, of course, but we managed to have fun. He brought me the stuff to practice tattooing on and I made some cool designs. He told me the deal, too, dad, so don’t worry. I’m done misbehaving for now.”

That caused loud laughter around the fire, and I shook my head. Typical teenager that one and she’s mine, so I guess it’s fitting. She smiled, and I have a feeling there’s more to her day then that, but since she didn’t elaborate, I won’t ask her. There are things a father knows and I know when my daughter wants to speak to me privately. I was content to relax around the fire and make small talk instead; provided mom stops telling embarrassing stories about me!

***
“Dad, can we talk?”

I looked up as Eliza came into the living room, sitting on the couch opposite me. I wasn’t doing anything important, just playing on the computer, which I put aside. I can tell this is a big conversation for her and I admit I’m a little nervous.

“I already talked to daddy and now it’s time to talk to you.”

I nodded, giving her my full attention from the recliner. She rubbed her hands together and licked her lips, a sign that she’s nervous. In so many ways, she’s just like me, right down to my little mannerisms. I waited her out, figuring she needed time to gather her thoughts before she spoke, another mannerism of mine.

“Well, I had a talk with Johnny yesterday,” she started and I nodded, rubbing my hands together and licking my lips; now I was nervous. “Well, Johnny said that if I wanted, next summer, I could intern at the shop. Then, if I still want to go to school, I can, or I can work there full time. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I loved our tattooing yesterday and I love the time I spend at the shop. I just wanted some advice, I guess.”

I took my time answering her, because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to tell her. Part of me wants to insist she go to college, because that’s what saved me. But she doesn’t need saving, does she? I mean, she’s not where I was at the age of 18, though she’s not exactly safe, either. But art school is all she’s wanted since she could talk, just about.

“Well, what feels right for you? I mean, I’d hate to see you give up on school, considering how badly you’ve wanted to go. But it’s okay to take some time off, too, and live life a bit before settling into school as well. I mean, you’re doing a great job saving money for college, and jobs are easier to come by now than they were when you were born.”

She nodded, looking at me with a slightly more relaxed look than before. “That’s what daddy said, too. I told him I had to think about things. If I get that scholarship, then I’ll apply, of course, and I’ll probably apply anyway. I want to visit the other two schools as well. But I just wanted to make sure you guys wouldn’t be pissed if I entertained the idea of not going.”

I shook my head, smiling at her. “No, I won’t be pissed. I mean, I want you to go to school, of course, but you have to do what’s right for you and not us.”

She smiled, then, and relaxed fully. “Thanks. That’s what daddy said, too. I don’t know what I want to do yet, but I wanted to talk it over with both of you first. Thanks.”

She left the room and I smiled. Of course this conversation worried me a little, but she’s an adult, whether we want to admit it or not; and that means she can make her own decisions now.

Eight

A month flies by when you’re having fun, trust me. We crammed as much fun as possible into that month and now we’re back home. School starts again in a couple of weeks, Eliza’s senior pictures are done, and Priscilla has already asked us for a sleepover for her birthday. Mind you, that’s her birthday in October. She plans ahead and she plans ahead well.

Jimmy is another matter, though. Since returning home, he’s listless and depressed, which is unusual for him. I know we both struggled while we visited my hometown but since then, I thought we were doing better. He won’t talk to me and got upset when I called his counselor. He did go to the appointment yesterday, but he’s still not any better. I have no idea what’s going on or how to address it.

“What’s wrong dad?” I heard Eliza ask, but all Jimmy did was grunt and close his office door. I know that Eliza had a talk with both of us about possibly not going to college, so I hope that didn’t set him off. She’s able to make her own choices, after all. “Daddy? What’s wrong with dad?”

“I don’t know, honey,” I sighed, rubbing my face. “I really don’t know. He was fine when we got back and now he’s not fine. I mean, he’s usually a little down when we get back, but not for this long.”

She nodded, grabbing a pop from the fridge. We try to regulate their junk intake, but sometimes we don’t have a lot of control. Under the circumstances, I’ll let it slide; she works later anyway.

“I’m off to work, daddy. Love you!”

I waved her off, telling her to be careful on the gravel. It’s fresh gravel, so she needs to drive a bit more slowly. I listened as Jimmy’s office door clicked open and, without a word, he left the house. I followed him, asking him where he was going, but he just walked faster and was into his truck before I could question him any further.

“Okay, then,” I muttered, heading back inside. Hamlet and Ophelia were perched by their food bowls, so I filled them, noting that Ophelia seemed to be on the rebound. I thought she’d be dead when we got home, but she wasn’t. “Priscilla!”

She came down the stairs, phone to her ear as she gabbed away at a friend. I shook my head and indicated that it was time to end the call. She doesn’t have a job yet, since she’s only 14, and her half of the bill is twice everyone else’s.

“What?” she asked, annoyed, as she hung up.

“You need to come with me. Your dad took off and we need to find him. I don’t know what’s wrong, but his counselor said he was silent the entire appointment. I’m worried about him.”

Priscilla rolled her eyes and I sighed. She has seen Jimmy’s breakdowns, she’s been party to his depression more than once, but she refuses to acknowledge that anything is actually wrong with her dad. It pisses me off that she doesn’t take this seriously, but no matter how often I or his counselor talks to her, she doesn’t get it.

“Look, stop the eye rolling. You know that he has problems and something triggered them. We need to find him right now!”

She flinched but I don’t care. I’m sick and tired of her attitude toward Jimmy’s mental illness. She’s seen him on the brink of relapse with alcoholism in the last year and I have a feeling that’s where we are again. Without another word she followed me outside and into the truck. I don’t like yelling at her, but that time she deserved it.

“You know Eliza won’t serve him,” she reminded me and I sighed, pounding a fist into the steering wheel.

“I fucking know that, Cilla!” I shouted, and she actually looked like she might cry. “They can’t even serve alcohol until after Eliza’s shift anyway. He won’t go to Molly’s if he wants a drink.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, looking out the window. She’s upset now, but that’s just going to have to be too bad.

We rode in tense silence to Mondamin after that, and silently concentrated on finding Jimmy’s truck once we were in town. When we didn’t find him there, we moved into Missouri Valley, where I sent a text to all of our friends to keep an eye out for him. He was in a mood and I didn’t know where he might go if he wasn’t here.

Found him. Tony Benson, one of closest friends texted back. He’s in Omaha and I’ll bring him home.

I texted back my thanks, figuring he’d gone to The Max the local gay bar. We don’t frequent bars at all and gay bars even less, but when you want pure acceptance, you go there. I just hope he’s not wasted, because the alcohol, in large quantities, can really screw up the side effects of his meds. I want to trust him, I really do, but I can’t.

“Can we go home now?” Priscilla asked, annoyed. I didn’t grace her with an answer and instead turned the truck. “Slow down, dad. The gravel is still fresh.”

I have no interest in rolling the truck, so I did slow it down a little bit. I can’t let my anger drive the truck, after all. Priscilla is now the proud owner of her learner’s permit (and wants her school permit) and a used black truck, so I needed to be a good driving influence on her. But that didn’t change how mad I was at her attitude and when we get home, you can bet she’s going to get a good talking to!

As soon as we walked in the door, I indicated that my daughter should sit in a kitchen chair. I sat directly across from her and noted the frown on her face. She knew what I wanted to talk about and I’m sure she was annoyed.

“I’ve had it up to here with your attitude, Priscilla!” I shouted, as she sat at the table, arms crossed over her chest. “Whether or not you want to acknowledge that your dad has a problem, he has one. He’s had major depression and addiction problems pretty much since I met him. He’s battled this for years, he’s been on more medications for this than I can count and now he’s depressed again. If he’s drunk when he gets home, then that’s 23 years of sobriety down the fucking drain! Do you want to see your dad go through addiction?”

She actually looked scared. I don’t want to scare her, but she needs to understand what’s going on here. If Jimmy’s drunk tonight, that means we start from scratch. He can’t be left alone and I know Priscilla and Eliza can’t watch him. Hank was always our go-to for that and now he’s gone. I don’t fucking know what to do and Jimmy’s not even home yet!

“Dad, chill, okay? You wanted to scare me? Then great, you did. I know dad has problems, but I think you’re blowing things out of proportion. Why don’t you ask him what’s wrong? All you’re doing is jumping to conclusions here and it’s not helping anyone.”

I was ready to shout at her, but then I paused to consider her words. Maybe she had a point, but I wasn’t convinced. I tried to calm down even though I could hear Anthony’s truck in the drive. I was ready to strangle my husband, but I tried to keep my cool.

“Coby? Don’t kill him,” Tony told me and I bit my lip taking a deep breath. “Come on Jim.”

“No.”

Oh shit. My fists clenched and my breathing increased to the point I was almost snorting. I’m sure steam was coming out my ears and I saw Priscilla stand out of the corner of my eye.

“Hey Jack,” Jimmy slurred, coming up the stairs. “I’m really sorry. But I got sad and I had to do something. I don’t like coming home from California; I miss Jeanette, Hank and Eleanor, and Ma and Pa and Penny. We had a lovely vacation, but it was too much for me, Jack. I had to do something, but Tony walked in and brought me home.”

I walked forward, noting the scared look in Jimmy’s eyes. This is what’s bothering him? Why didn’t he just fucking say so?

“We’ve been after you for WEEKS, Jimmy! Why can’t you just tell me when things are wrong? I could’ve helped you before things got this fucking bad! You promised me you wouldn’t break 23 years of sobriety for anything. But look at you! You’re drunk off your fucking ass! I can smell the god damn whiskey on your breath, too! Get the fuck out of my house until you’re sober and can stay sober!”

I stormed out of the house, ignoring my husband, who was now quite upset. I didn’t care, because I was so angry at him that I couldn’t see straight. I stormed to the play set that we never took down, even though the kids have long since outgrown it, and holed up in the tree house. It’s kind of the retreat for the entire family when we’re angry, honestly. There’s a picture of Penny up here and even a family picture from when Priscilla was three.

“FUCK!” I shouted, pounding a fist into the carpeted floor. We’ve had the entire thing sealed and it never leaks in the rain, amazingly. “Why did he do that?”

“Jimmy! Get back here!”

I closed my eyes and counted to 10, listening as my husband’s footsteps came up the ladder to my retreat. The smell of alcohol preceded him and when I opened my eyes, he was right in front of me. He looked sober, even though I know he’s not. But his eyes were bright, if dilated, and he looked dead serious.

“You don’t just get to throw me out!” he shouted and this is why I hate him when he’s drunk. “I’m sorry, Jacoby, I’m so sorry, okay! I won’t do it again! I should’ve talked to you and I should’ve talked to Agnes, too. I didn’t know what was wrong, though, well I did, but it’s been wrong for a long time.”

He sat back, breathing heavily, probably due to the humidity out here, and I thought about his words. Was I right in throwing him out? Probably not. I actually gave thought to what I’d said and I realized I couldn’t rightfully throw him out at all. It was one time and one time does not a relapse make.

“Jimmy, I’m sorry. It’s just that I was afraid of this, okay? When you go quiet like that, it never ends well for anyone. I want you to keep your promise that you made, okay? You said you wouldn’t break 23 years of sobriety for anything. What would Eleanor say, huh? She’d clock you upside the head and yell at you, that’s what.”

He nodded, swaying a bit. He hasn’t had this much to drink in years and with his meds, I’m sure he was on the verge of passing out. He blinked and I wondered what was going on; sometimes he had horrible hallucinations when he was drunk.

“I’m sorry, Coby. I’ll talk to you now, I promise. I don’t know why it hurt me to come back from California, okay? We had a great time out there,” he paused a moment, almost as if to gather his thoughts. “and then we came home. It’s been a tough year, Jack, and I think it all kind of caught up to me.”

I couldn’t argue with that, because it’s all catching up to me, too. I took a lot of frustrations out at mom’s grave, but really, that’s never been enough. I just have a different way of dealing with things than Jimmy, I guess. I don’t have mental illness, either, and that makes a huge difference, too.

I was about to respond when I heard a snore and sure enough, Jimmy was out like a light. I can’t just leave him here, considering his medications don’t react well to alcohol and I waged a small debate with myself: do I take him to the ER and risk the wrath of his new doctor? Dr. Mathias retired a few years ago, and Dr. Mangus took over. He’s done a great job and they’ve developed a good relationship, but he’s got a much shorter temper than Mathias. I could leave Jimmy here, of course, to sleep this off, but what if he doesn’t wake up? I’ll never forgive myself if he dies because I left him out here like this.

“Coby? What are you going to do with him?” Tony asked, his head popping up comically through the hole in the floor. The little door opens down, so it’s easier to get in from the outside. “Is he safe to sleep this off?”

“I don’t know. Probably not, really, but what should I do? Dr. Mangus is going to kill him if I take him to the ER and I don’t think we can get him down anyway. It’s not right to make him stay awake all night, either, so I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll just stay with him tonight and keep an eye on him, you know? He’s done this before and we’ve had a couple of close calls, so I don’t want to risk anything. But he’s mostly just drunk, you know?”

“I know, Coby, and that’s what worries me. He’s on some pretty strong medication for depression, moods, and anxiety. That stuff says right on it, no drinking, though I know he got some drinking okayed. Why don’t we try to get him inside?”

I nodded, then realized just how difficult this was going to be. I tried to wake him up, but that’s like pulling teeth. Finally, Anthony agreed to get us some blankets and pillows and he’d call Annie that he was staying with the girls. They’d be fine under normal circumstances, but these were not normal circumstances. Eliza, of course, is fortunate to be at work, because she doesn’t know what’s going on. But Priscilla is probably scared and I’m sure our fight isn’t helping.

“You’d better wake up in the morning, Slim,” I muttered, snuggling closer to him. I closed my eyes, hoping like hell I was doing the right thing.

Okay, now time for the new chapter and again, I apologize for messing things up! Everything should be to rights now, so read on, faithful readers!

***

Nine

I blinked momentarily, as a terrible headache set in. I haven’t had a migraine in years and that’s exactly what this is. Except I have no memory of the night before and that’s unusual for me. I mean, I have memory problems, of course, but not to this extent. I can usually remember at least most of the previous day but all I remember is getting up, being depressed and leaving the house. That’s literally all I can remember.

“Jack?” I whispered, keeping a hand over my eyes. I had opened my eyes long enough to see that Coby was sleeping next to me and that we were in the tree house. I don’t know why we’re in the tree house, but whatever. “What are we doing in the tree house?”

He didn’t stir, just snuggled closer to me. Confused, I closed my eyes and attempted to return to sleep. I feel like shit, but that’s pretty standard for a migraine. If I can sleep it off, I’ll be better off anyway. This can be a challenge when my stomach feels like it’s going to revolt at any moment, but I don’t want to soil the tree house.

“Jim?”

I blinked my eyes open, noting that my migraine seemed to have cleared. I sat up slowly, blinking, as Jacoby peered at me with concerned blue eyes. He almost seemed to be checking me out, but I don’t think he means it in that way.

“What?”

“Thank god,” he muttered, and I was really confused now. “You’re awake.”

“Yep. That happens after sleeping, usually. Why are we in the tree house?” I asked, and caught the look on his face: anger, concern, I think he’s going to hit me. I scooted back a bit, just in case.

He glared at me and I scooted just a bit further from him. Keep in mind this is a very small tree house, since it’s meant for small children, so I don’t have far to go. I also need to be careful because the door is open and falling out of that is a bad idea. Trust me, Eliza did it once and broke her arm; I do not want to go through that again.

“What’s with the glare? Seriously, Jacoby, what did I do?” I asked, and tried to indicate with my tone of voice that I truly have no idea what’s going on right now. “Look, my memory is a little fuzzy, okay?”

His glare was seriously starting to scare me. This is how he treats me after a binge or…oh shit. Please, tell me I didn’t go on a binge or something last night. I mean, my memory is fuzzy, but it’s always a little fuzzy. Jacoby said nothing and it was starting to scare me. I hate it when he’s like this, because it means I really, really fucked up.

“I didn’t go on a binge, did I? I promise I’m not doing drugs, Jacoby. Just please, tell me what I did wrong, because you’re starting to scare me.”

I thought that would get through to him, but it didn’t and I gulped. My first instinct is always to run, even all these years later, and that’s what I did. I scrambled down the ladder and headed inside to a special hide out I’ve had for years in a closet no one really knows about. I was faster than Jacoby, even as crappy as I felt, and I practically dove into my closet, huddling into the bean bag chair, knees clutched to my chest.

“Jimmy?”

That’s Anthony, my brain said, and then it wondered what he was doing here. After him, Priscilla called for me and I cannot ignore my child. The door opened and I whimpered; I hadn’t been this scared in a very long time. I watched as a dark shadow came in and then plopped next to me. Priscilla took my hand and started to rub her thumb over it, which she knew relaxed me. I hate how my kids have to know these things about me.

“Dad, what’s wrong? You came home drunk last night and daddy almost kicked you out. You said you missed grandma, and Eleanor and Grandpa Hank, etc., and it was all too much. Why did you do that?”

I had no answer for my daughter because I have no memory of the previous night. I hate to think I got drunk over my emotions again. I have always prided myself on not doing that and this makes me feel like a complete failure. I’m ashamed to say I started to cry in front of my daughter. This is not to say that men can’t cry, because they certainly can, but I don’t like doing it in front of my children.

“I don’t know,” I sobbed, reaching for some tissues I kept stashed back here. “I do miss them all very much, especially mama and dad and Jeanette. It’s hard to lose the people close to you that were your parents for so many years. I mean, I’m going to flip when mom and dad pass, but Hank, Eleanor, and Jeanette were there for me long before my real parents were. You will never have to know what that’s like, Cilla. Jacoby and I will always be there for you, no matter what. But sometimes, for me, things get too overwhelming. I know you don’t take my problems seriously, but this is serious business, honey. I have depression and problems with addiction and everything else. I have been raped, I’ve been nearly beaten to death and by all rights, I should’ve died the night your dad found me. But for some reason, I’m still here. I want you to realize that I’m for real. I’m sorry you had to see me drunk, Cilla, I really am. But I am very overwhelmed right now and I just don’t know how to deal with it.”

I heard her sigh and I found myself becoming angry. I don’t know why she can’t accept that I am what I am, but it’s really starting to piss me off.

“See, dad, you’re getting angry at me because I let out a small sigh. You don’t even know what the sigh meant; you assumed it was me brushing off your problems again. For the record, I never brush them off. I count myself lucky, actually, that you have things under control for the most part. I have a friend whose mom doesn’t have the control you do and her home-life sucks. The reason I get upset is that you seem to think your problems or diagnoses or whatever define you. They don’t; that would be like me letting my heart problem define me. I’m all healed up and the heart problem is a thing of the past. Your mental illnesses aren’t a thing of the past, but they are under control for the most part. So, you going out and getting drunk indicates to me that you don’t like having control. That there’s some part of you that is missing the old days, before you got married and had kids. I’m not saying you’re not happy, because I can see that you are. But maybe you aren’t really as bad off as you think, dad. Maybe going out and drinking was nothing more than an excuse to revisit an old habit. You know that you’re in danger of becoming an alcoholic, but for one night, you threw caution to the wind. Now, I want to know why.”

I had no answer for my daughter, and that made me upset. Was she right? Was there some part of me longing for the old days of my addiction? I certainly hope not, because I nearly died a few times and I don’t miss that. I don’t miss waking up in strange places, with no memory of how I got there. I certainly don’t miss the old days, that’s for sure.

And yet, there’s a strange pull to them as well. I mean, think about it: no responsibilities, no nothing. I just had to stay live and survive. I did both of those things quiet well, honestly, and I pride myself on that. I mean, sure I was a drug addict and alcoholic, but I was happy. Well, I thought I was happy, anyway, until I met Jacoby.

After Jacoby, there has been so much heartache: I found out I lost two babies due to drug use and when I did finally have a normal pregnancy (I had three miracle shots at pregnancy; I was born intersex and should’ve been infertile, but I wasn’t), I lost one of the two babies I was carrying. Jacoby and I haven’t had a very happy marriage over all, either, and that’s hard for me. But I love him and I love my children, even the ones I lost.

“Well?”

This kid is going to make one hell of a psychologist some day, I swear. I shrugged, tears beginning to subside on my face as I wiped my eyes once again.

“I honestly don’t know. Maybe what I babbled last night was right, maybe you’re right, I don’t know. I just know that I’m ashamed and I deserve to be kicked out, if Jacoby is going to do that.”

She sighed again and I remained calm, because it’s no good getting upset. I saw her pinch the bridge of her nose, much like Jacoby does when he’s frustrated with me and I wanted to scream. Everyone seems to be either mad at me or frustrated today and I’ve had enough. I got up, hurrying from my hideout and out the back door. I knew where I needed to go and I guess my brain was on autopilot rather than thinking things through.

When I reached my destination, I yanked the door open and marched inside, only stopping when I registered the situation: a young family sitting down for breakfast. My bottom lip started to tremble and I turned on my heel, mumbling my apologies. I hurried back outside, into the front yard, but the swing was gone; they’d taken it out when they moved in. I needed to talk to someone, but the people I needed were all dead. Defeated, I sank down into the soft grass under the old home of the swing. Hank had built me a swing a few years ago and put it in the tree so I’d have a place to run to when I needed an out. He’d stand and talk to me while I swung, keeping myself calm.

“Why are you dead?” I asked the air around me, wishing I’d get a real response. I can’t even hallucinate him and that’s starting to piss me off, too. “I hate you for leaving me, dad, I really do. Except you know I don’t mean that, because I can never hate you. You left me, mom left me, Jeanette left me. Jacoby’s mad at me again, I went out and got drunk last night and I’m a complete fuck up, I guess. I need you or mama to talk to, but you’re both gone. The new people redecorated and took down my swing; I don’t even know where it is. I don’t know what do Hank and I need your help.”

I heard someone coming toward me, but I didn’t recognize the woman right away. And then I remembered who she was and I felt embarrassed. Ella Mars, our new neighbor of the last few months, was approaching me. We don’t know each other that well and I’m not in a good state to deal with strangers right now.

“I couldn’t help overhearing,” she said, almost as if she were apologizing. She gestured to the shed, but when I didn’t follow her, she shrugged and moved toward it alone. “We didn’t realize this was yours or we’d have brought it down. It just seemed a remnant of the previous owners.”

I looked up and realized she had my swing in her hands. I accepted it, wondering if we had a good enough tree for it. Our trees were still young, most of them, since we replaced them after storms. I held it close, considering this is one of my last connections to Hank.

“I’m sorry for barging in and scaring your kids,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I just—I’m not used to Hank being gone is all. On a day like today, I could just walk in, he’d make me breakfast or something and we’d talk. I’m a little lost without him.”

She settled on the grass in front of me, which also made me nervous. I don’t really want to talk to a stranger but she seems ready to open a dialogue. If I want a counselor, Edgar always has time for me either at home or in his office.

“No worries. We explained it to the kids and they got it. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, a relative stranger still, but I did overhear your conversation. If you want to talk, I’m here for you.”

I considered that, wondering if this was some doing of Hank’s. You might remember that I believe in spirits, the afterlife, Karma, and so on. I believe that people can speak to us from beyond, but you have to really be listening to hear it. Perhaps this was Hank’s way of speaking to me; having Ella overhear me and then offer to listen.

“Well, you’re right, but maybe this is Hank’s way of saying he’s here for me. I’m sorry again to barge in. This has just been my refuge for so many years and I don’t know where else to go. I will find a new place, I promise.”

“Tell me about the swing.”

That seemed to be the catalyst, almost as if Hank were standing behind me, pushing me to talk.

“Well, when Priscilla was about…oh, seven or eight, we were having a rough time with Eliza again. She was in trouble in school quite often and we were fighting a lot. I got really, really sick with pneumonia and almost didn’t get to come home. That spring, I ran to Hank after a particularly bad fight and he let me rant and rave like usual. A few days later, when things had cleared he called me up to the house; he said he had something to show me.

“I got here and he showed me the swing. He said that food was a good out for me, but he knew I needed more than that. So, sometimes, I’d sit on the swing and while I was ranting and raving, I could swing which made me calm down faster. He said he’d built it just for me and me alone; no one else would use it. When you guys moved in, I wasn’t thinking straight, you know? We thought we had all of Hanks stuff moved out of the house, but we forgot my swing. Once you guys were in, I figured it was gone for good. Thanks for keeping it.”

“Ryland wanted to toss it, since the kids have a swing set already, but I thought it was special. I said to keep it for one year and if nothing came of it, we could toss it. I guess I was right. You’re welcome to keep it here, you know. I’ll talk to Ryland, but I’m sure he won’t mind. If this is your spot, I don’t want to take that from you. I know that we’ve changed the house a lot since we moved in, but we haven’t touched the yard yet. I can designate this as your spot, since it’s secluded. The kids won’t bother you here and neither will we. I’ll just get Ryland to put the swing up and we’ll have a rule for the kids.”

I looked into her green eyes, not sure I believed her. “Really?”

She nodded, her blond hair falling into her face a bit. “Really. I’m a school guidance counselor and I know how important these things are. I work with kids who have a lot of problems and I tell them to find their spot, a place for them and them alone to go and calm down. This is your spot and I won’t take that away from you.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes, as I heard footsteps crunch the gravel. It’s probably Jacoby, come to yell at me or something. Instead, I caught the worried looking face of her husband, Ryland. His frame was thin, his hazel eyes watching me as though I might hurt Ella.

“Jimmy and I were just talking. I found out about the swing. The previous owner, Hank Marks, had placed it in this tree for Jimmy. This was Jimmy’s refuge while Hank was alive. He was welcome to come in any time and Hank would give him a place to vent. That’s why he came barging into the kitchen earlier; he forgot that it was our house now.”

“How the hell can you forget something like that?” Ryland demanded and I cowered a bit by the tree. Ella stood and shushed her husband.

“When he’s upset, it’s easy to do. I expect a bit more respect out of you, Ryland, honestly. I told him we’d put the swing back up and this will be his spot. It’s secluded here on the west side of the property and the kids never go here anyway. We’ve told them it’s too close to the field and they know the rules. So, this spot will be Jimmy’s once again, so he can have a retreat.”

I could see the indecision on Ryland’s face and his words didn’t quite match the displeasure in his eyes. “That’s fine. I just…it scared the kids when you came running in, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just used to running right in. I know Hank’s been gone a year now, but it’s still hard for me. He was, for all intents and purposes, my dad, since we couldn’t find my family for ten years. It’s hard to lose your parents over the years, even when you have your birth parents still.”

Ryland nodded, hugging his wife and walking away. Ella sat next to me and pulled me into a hug. For a moment, it felt like Hank was hugging me and I almost smiled. I swear I felt him next to me, even as Ella said she’d give me some space.

“When will the swing go back up?” I asked, and I thought I sounded childish.

“This afternoon, I promise.”

With that, she rounded the house and left me to my thoughts. I stood, brushing the dirt from my pants and decided to head home. Once the swing was up, I could spend more time here, but the ground was uncomfortable and I’m sure Jacoby was looking for me. With a sigh, I walked past the rose bushes that Eleanor and I had put so much time and effort into, the vegetable garden that we all worked on and finally onto the gravel drive. The house had been updated with siding and new windows and I sighed; it wasn’t home anymore. I turned from the house and walked to the gravel, spotting my angry husband in the distance; time to go face my family.