The day that Ocean View called about the opening had been particularly difficult. It was a Saturday morning and since C.C., our weekend respite worker and usual godsend, was on vacation, Mary had agreed to take him the entire day so I could recover. At the last second, just as I was getting Ethan into the car, Mary called to say she felt a migrane coming on and couldn’t do it. A short, heated discussion followed that ended with us racing to be the first to hang up on each other.
A long lonely day ensued. We ran a series of mindless and unnecessary errands and made three separate trips to the park to shoot hoops in the hot sun. The tedium was broken up by a number of Tonto appearances and a licking festival of Woodstock proportions at the hardware store.
Ethan and I were in my small condo about to have an early dinner, when Dawn Elkin, director of admissions from Ocean View, called to inform me of an unexpected opening. Could Ethan be ready by the end of the month? I paused, then I heard myself answer yes.
I actually did call Mary right afterward, but she didn’t answer, and I decided not to leave a message. I was exhausted, still angry, and in no condition to discuss the issue. I would tell her the next day. Sunday came and went, however, as did Monday and Tuesday, and before I knew it, I was packing the van.
Now I questioned why I hadn’t told her.
The wedding was certainly a factor, as was the knowledge that Mary had given her tacit approval months before. There was another reason, however, a more honest reason: Ethan had to go somewhere, and I didn’t want Mary interfering. I feared she would slow the process down, if not stop it entirely. And I wasn’t sure I could wait any longer.
My life with my son had been anything but easy. The simplest things, taking a shower, emptying the garbage, checking the mail, could quickly turn into a terrible ordeal. I knew I was at the end of things and needed help. Ocean View was that help. Ocean View was salvation.
I was sitting on the balcony, trying to juggle my bitterness and guilt, when I heard my phone ring. It was Rita.
I was in a bad way, desperate for a friend, so I actually considered, briefly, very briefly, picking up, but the wine was ebbing, and I knew I needed to face things. So I got a cold bottle of water from the fridge, pressed it against my forehead for a moment, and called Mary.
“Listen…,” I began. “I’m sorry I did it this way, I know it was wrong. But we couldn’t wait. We have to do this now.”
She was silent.
“Mary?”
“I won’t let it happen. I won’t sign it, the final consent.”
“I know it’s hard, but you agreed to this. We both did.”
“I thought it would be five years, ten years. How did this happen so fast?”
“It just did. They said he’s the right fit right now. Someone just like Ethan moved out or something, so … so I guess they’re equipped for him, and … and they get special funding for him or something. I don’t remember all the specifics. I have it written down somewhere. Anyway, we jumped way ahead on the list, years ahead. I didn’t ask a lot of questions.”
“You should have.”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s in.”
“I’m not ready. He’s not ready.”
“They told us it could happen at any time. They told us that. That was one of the conditions. You knew that. They said we had to be prepared to move fast. We might miss our chance and go back to the end of the line. You knew this could happen.”
“They said the likelihood of this happening was very, very small.”
“But it happened.”
She didn’t say anything.
“Listen, you’ve been there. You know it’s a good place. You loved it when we visited. And for years, we’ve talked about doing something like this. It just happened sooner than we thought.”
“A lot sooner! You should have told me! Damn you, John! You had no right. “I should have been part of this decision. What were you thinking? When, exactly, were you planning on telling me? When you got there? When he was already living there? When?”
“The day after the wedding. The next morning. It wasn’t going to be ideal, I know, but that’s when I was going to do it, tell you. I figured we would, you know, discuss it, and then you would agree and come with me. Us.”
We were both quiet. A breeze picked up, and I felt it against my face.
I tried again. “I’m sorry. But I knew you were busy with the wedding, and Sally, so I took care of everything. I went back out there two weeks ago when you had him. I met everyone again, saw his room, met with his aides and therapists. Everyone was very nice, everything looked nice, so I made the down payment. I flew in and out in one day.”