“How can I find out if she won’t talk to me?”
He slams the half-empty beer bottle on the table. The liquid bounces out of the mouth and drips down his hand. He’s shaking the drops away, along with a bit of the tension his body is holding. I reach across and quiet his movement with my hand. Wes looks at me with an emotion I’ve rarely seen in him. Defeat.
“If I give you a bit of advice, will you take it?”
“Dylan, if you have any wisdom to shed light on this shit pile, I’m all ears.”
“Do the work.”
“Do the work? That’s it? Do the damn work? What the hell does that even mean?”
“Eli gave you an earful. If you think, which I suspect you do, there’s a bit of truth to it then you know he’s at least partially right. How can you fix it? Create boundaries with Hannah. You don’t have any right now. Tell her about Hayley. Make sure she knows that she will be involved heavily in your child’s life. Make this a safe place for Hayley to come back to when she’s ready.”
“What if Hayley doesn’t want to come back? What if this is it?”
“I hope that’s not true for both of you. Even if it takes a long time, or for the sake of argument, never, you need to get shit straight for your child. You are going to co-parent this kid with Hannah forever. If you don’t set it up right now, it could be a shitshow in ways you haven’t thought of. Focus on that. Be a dad.”
“I don’t know how, Dylan. That kid is going to be born in less than two months and I haven’t a fucking clue what to do. I’m supposed to be able to lean on Hayley.”
“Lean on yourself for once, Mav. Step up. Show everyone, including yourself, you’ve got this. I know you think you are, but you’re not alone. Eli and I are right here.”
He stares at the sweatshirt he’s had tucked beside him and pulls it into his lap. “Funny thing, I never had a problem being alone until Hayley.” He pulls the balled material to his nose and inhales deep. Wes rubs his cheek along the rich green fleece. “What is she going through right now?”
“Well, I can’t say for sure, but I’d imagine she’s a lot like you are. She’s scared, alone, afraid of what the next step is.”
“I want to help her.”
“Learn all you can about what could be going on in her body and her mind. Then do the things that I said. It’s like what they tell you on the airplane. You have to put your mask on first before you can help others. Put your mask on and breathe, Wes.”
Chapter 22
Elijah
The entire drive out to my parents’ house I try to simply clear my mind. I don’t want to appear to have any agenda or questions. I want to go in to be there for Hayley and listen. It’s rare that I drive without music. I don’t want anything to sway my already sunken mood, so the focus is on the sounds of the city, then to the sounds of the suburbs, and finally to simply my breath.
I park in my usual spot. I’d hoped I’d see a few signs of normalcy. My mother in the gardens, my father coming home from a round of golf, Hayley lying out by the pool. The grounds are as eerily silent as I’ve ever felt them. Punching the code in to the keypad gives me the only sound besides the birds.
I close the door behind me, and the cat is the first to greet me. I pick her up into my arms and walk into the kitchen. My mother is at the sink gazing out over the backyard. I know she hears me. Her head turns toward her shoulder ever so slightly. My hand wraps around that shoulder as my lips meet her cheek. She feigns a smile for me and leans into my body.
“Where is everyone?” I whisper.
“Your father is wrapping up some business in his study. Hayley has been sleeping for about two hours. We took turns wandering the halls with her last night. I’m exhausted, Elijah.”
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry. Why don’t you take the kitten and sit down? I’ll make you some tea.”
I offer Aurora over into her arms and guide her to a seat at the breakfast bar. She gives the cat long strokes with her hand. Rory is so grateful she purrs as loud as a freight train. I know my mother prefers the water boiled on the stove old-school, but I think she needs the chamomile more that her preferences.
I place her favorite mug in the microwave and wait. The cat finally wriggles away from her, so she’s left empty once more. With the tea bag finally floating, I set the mug in front of her and watch the fragrance and the steam rise to greet her face. She closes her eyes and lets it invade her senses.
“Thank you, my sweet boy. You shouldn’t have taken so much time from your day to drive out here. Dylan needs tending.”
“Mom, my whole family needs me. Dylan is fine. She’s sitting with Wes tonight while I’m here. You all rallied around me when I needed it. Would you expect me to do any less in return?”
“No, darling. Of course not.”
“How has she been since she showed up here? What are the next steps?”
In that moment, my father appears in the entryway from his office. “I thought I heard your voice, Son.”
“Hey, Dad. Yeah. I need to know what the plan is. How do we help her?” My father takes his place beside my mother. His hand slides carefully over her back, resting on her spine, while the other pulls the teacup closer to her reach. No one speaks again until she’s had a couple of long sips. There is a look exchanged between them. “What is that? Is there something I should know?”
My mother nods to my father as if giving him permission, but permission for what. I watch him take a deep breath in and out then raise his chin. I’ve seen him do this a thousand times before. He’s done it when he’s had to let someone go. He’s done it in very tenuous board meetings. He’s done it when he’s breaking news to anyone that is particularly difficult.
“Eli, maybe we should step into the living room so we can all sit together.”
“Okay, no. Now you’re scaring the shit out of me. Please someone just tell me what the hell is happening.”
“Elijah, what is going on with your sister is not new for us. This is something she’s dealt with on and off since we first realized it at the age of thirteen.”
My mother tries to reach across the countertop to offer her hand. My shock won’t allow me to take it. In fact, I take a couple of steps back into the middle of the room. “Thirteen? Nine years? You kept this from me for nine years?”
“Darling, we discovered it during your winter finals that year. Then you were off to Vermont, just before you came home for the holiday. We were still getting a handle on things. Once you were home, Hayley seemed to blossom again. We asked her if we should tell you and she was mortified. It was and is a delicate balance. We do the best we can each time.”
“Each time? How many times, Mom? How many?” I can hear the tone in my voice. I am really trying to keep it in check. I have a feeling I’m going to fail at it miserably.
My mother opens her mouth to try and answer. I can see her eyes go from sadness to filled with sorrow in the last syllable of my question. She can see the disappointment, betrayal, and anger in mine. My father finally removes his hand from her back to thread his fingers with hers instead before answering the question she seems unable or unwilling to answer.