Bawling Brawling
January, 2002
Turns out Craig had been taking Xanax to manage the anxiety and depression that developed when Kelly got sick. And, it turns out, when Kelly died, he started popping those things like I used to pop St. Johns Wort…like tic-tacs. Surprisingly, his blood alcohol level wasn’t nearly as high as Kurt assumed it was when he left Palo Alto that day and it most likely wasn’t the sole cause of him ramming that other car from behind. What probably did him in was the lethal combination of alcohol and Xanax. The coroner’s judgment was that Craig unexpectedly fell asleep from the concoction. This was the information Courtney was giving to me as the handful of guests started to arrive for Craig’s memorial.
Craig was very clear after Kelly died that when he kicked the bucket he didn’t want a big funeral like she had. Sitting in the pew and staring at her coffin made him physically sick, and he said he could never put anyone, especially Kendall, through something like that. He wanted to be promptly buried next to Kelly, no big shoveling ceremony, no eulogy, and no hanging around the casket and crying. When they were sitting around drinking beers one night, he told Kurt, “When I go, I want a good old fashioned barbeque at my house and if anyone starts bawling, kick em’ out.” No one would’ve ever thought it would come so soon.
After hugging Craig’s decrepit mother, I glance over at his picture. It’s been one week since he died. The morning after I told Kendall the news, I woke up very early to call Dr. Maria. For the first time ever, I used the special number she gave to me years ago in case of an absolute emergency. While I certainly felt like I went through a lot of code reds during my years with her, I could never justify calling the number with any of my problems. I always felt like the line should be kept open for the Sad Frumpy Ladies of the world. Staring at my haggard and make-up-less face in the mirror as the line rang that morning, I thought…there’s one. Her voicemail picked up and in as loud of a whisper I could muster up so as not to wake Kendall, I got right to the point.
“It’s me, Chrissy Anderson. Kelly’s husband has died, and I have their daughter in my possession. I told her about her daddy yesterday, and it didn’t go so well. I need to see a children’s counselor right away. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I need to know fast.”
Within five minutes of hanging up the phone, it rang again and it was a child psychologist. Dr. Maria heard my message, contacted the best one she knew and told her to call me immediately. Our conversation was brief. She identified herself as Dr. Vikki Ester and told me to bring Kendall to her that afternoon and to not let her out of my sight.
Kendall was quiet as we got ready to go to Dr. Ester’s office. I could tell she was wondering, “What happens to me now,” but she doesn’t have the vocabulary to express those kinds of big thoughts. I wanted to put her mind at ease and promise her that I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life, but without knowing the exact details of Craig and Kelly’s will, I knew I couldn’t make that promise. I just kept hugging her and told her I loved her.
I called Kurt on the way to the psychologist’s office, and as promised, he joined us. Dr. Ester directed Kendall to a toy room that magically made her happy and she directed the “grown-ups” to a different room to talk. When the psychologist referred to me as a grown-up, I literally froze. Wasn’t I the one who just four years ago met a twenty-one-year-old guy at a bar and tried to take his pants off in my car? Wasn’t I the one who used to hack into that guy’s voicemail account and sabotage his plans to hook up with other girls? Wasn’t I the one who, up until I was thirty-years-old, pretended my name was Prudence, Maude, Guadalupe, and Nell? Wasn’t I the one who verbally assaulted Kurt and Boobs outside of my old house in Danville while my neighbors watched? How can someone as psychotically challenged as me be called a grown-up? Furthermore, can someone as psychotically challenged as me be a good mother to Kendall?
“Chrissy, you coming?”
Kurt motioned for me to sit down next to him so the “grown-ups” could get started. After instructing us to call her Dr. Vikki because it’s more casual for the children, she went on to tell us how she thinks Kendall will react over the next month or so, and then she gave us an action plan to deal with it. The bottom line is we have to provide her with a stable routine, keep things calm and shower her with love. She recommended I bring as many of Kendall’s belongings to my cottage as I could and keep the illusion of a really long sleepover going for as long as possible. Illusions are definitely something I have experience with creating, so no problem there. Everyone’s hope is that we can determine guardianship as soon as possible to provide Kendall with long-term stability as quickly as possible. But, when Kurt’s cell phone rang during the meeting with Dr. Vikki and it was the attorney, “as soon as possible” went out the window.
“Well, what did he say?”
Dr. Vikki and I were on the edge of our seats.
“Well, we’re still her legal guardians.”
“Did you tell him we’re divorced?”
“Yep. He said he thinks he remembers an update to the will that tackles that subject.”
“He thinks?”
“He’s knee deep in another case and can’t pull the file until the first week of February.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope. Apparently the a*shole--Sorry, Dr. Vikki…Apparently he’s too busy until then to solidify the future of a four-year-old little girl. He told us to do the best we can with her care until he can see us to work out the logistics.”
Nicole breaks a plate in the kitchen and it snaps my mind away from Dr. Vikki’s office and back to the memorial. Staring at Kurt, who’s helping her clean up the mess, I feel relief that the a*shole attorney can’t see us until February. I still haven’t told him, let alone any of the other people in this room, I’m engaged to Leo and that we want sole custody of Kendall. I mean, it would be the most stable, calm and loving set up for her, but the challenge is going to be convincing Kurt of that. He already lost one girl to Leo, I’m not so sure he’s going to give another one up to him so easily this time. Oy vey, I definitely have a few logistics of my own to figure out before February.
“What are you thinking about?”
It was Kurt. He stopped on the way to the garbage can to throw the broken glass away and saw me staring pensively down at my drink.
“Kendall.”
“Are you sure it was such a good idea to leave her there today?”
Dr. Vikki thought it would be too difficult for Kendall to be around the gang because she’d expect to see her father, so Kurt and I agreed she should be somewhere else for the barbeque/memorial. I dropped Kendall off with Slutty Co-worker and Megan at one of the studios this morning. They’re the only people she knows outside of the ones with me here.
“Of course. Kendall loves it there and they love her.”
What I wasn’t counting on this morning though was Barbara being there. To this day, she has a very hard time being around little girls. Despite all of her years of intense therapy, the pain of losing her three-year-old daughter has been something she could never deal with. The only thing that’s made coping somewhat tolerable was staying as far away from little girls as possible. But, Barbara’s years of dodging them came to an abrupt halt this morning when Kendall opened the front door of the studio and it hit her in the nose. I thought the head on collision was going to be disastrous. But, in actuality it seemed to be therapeutic. A visibly traumatized Kendall clung to my leg and Barbara just stood motionless, staring at her for what seemed like forever. Finally I interjected with, “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea” and started to usher Kendall out of the studio. But, Barbara softly touched my hand and said, “I’m okay, Chrissy,” and then looking down at Kendall, “This can’t be about me.” In coming face-to-face with the little girl who lost both of her parents, all of a sudden Barbara set aside anguish she’d been carrying around for nearly two decades. She lovingly took Kendall’s hand and asked her if she’d like to learn how to crochet. Before I set off for the memorial, I gave Kendall a big kiss and told them all to start planning her birthday party celebration. Between the crocheting, party planning and Slutty Co-workers silly antics, I left there knowing Kendall was in very good hands.
“Can I get you another drink?”
“Kurt, I’m fine, really. Please don’t worry about me. Here….” taking his glass, “let me get you one.”
The truth is, I haven’t put a drop of alcohol in my body since the night before Craig died, and with Kendall in my life, I can’t imagine another drop will go in it. I can’t take any chances that something bad will happen. As I’m pouring Kurt a glass of wine and refilling my club soda, I listen to the whispers of questions being thrown around like…
“What do you think will happen to the house?”
“Who’s paying the bills?”
“Should Kendall ever come back here?”
“Should Kendall live here?”
I snap the whisperer of that question a firm look that says HELLS NO, I’M NOT LIVING IN FREAKMONT! But then I turn to Kurt who’s giving me a look of, it might not be such a bad idea if she continues to live in her own house. I sigh and think, yep…gonna be lots and lots of logistics to work out.
All of a sudden, the whispers come to a screeching halt. Well, except for Nicole’s when she murmurs over to Courtney, “Instead of no bawling at this thing, Craig should’ve said, no brawling.” Wondering what she’s talking about, I turn to find Leo standing in the door-way.
It’s been almost two months since I’ve seen him, but instead of running and jumping into his arms, my gaze shifts to Kurt whose eyes are fixated on the man who took his wife away.