Mom said, “What do you mean it has gone night-night? I just saw it in the freezer. Are you feeling all right?”
This was the thing about my mother. One moment she seemed sharp as a tack, and the next she wasn’t sure of her own name. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but I was quite certain that the doctor Scott took her to had missed something. She fought me on it every day, but I would wear her down eventually. She was going to that neurologist.
I shook my head. “Later, Mom.”
Adam let out a low scream. “I want ice cream!” he said, banging his fists on the floor. “I want ice cream right now!”
Great.
“Adam,” I soothed. “How about we go get into the bath, and Gransley will let you eat one of your special Popsicles in the tub? Wouldn’t that be funny to eat it in the tub?”
I laughed delightedly, holding my breath. The Popsicles were really some concoction that Caroline had made since she was on this disgusting diet. They were made of spinach and berries and green powder mixed in the blender and frozen. I think they were supposed to be dessert. She was probably going to kill me for giving them to the kids, but I was dealing with one tantrum at a time right now.
Taylor squirmed out of my arms and promptly ran over to the bowl of paper clips, dumped them onto the floor, and started kicking them all over the living room with his feet. It was actually shocking how far they were spreading. What was not shocking was that Adam started wailing again and pushed his brother onto the floor, and then they were both wailing.
“Ansley!” Mom shouted. “Could you please get them out of here? This noise is giving me a horrible headache.”
I don’t know what happens to people when they get old, but I hope it never happens to me. It’s like you lose all sense of respect and decorum. You no longer care about anyone else’s feelings or what they’re going through. It’s all about you. At least, it was with my mom.
“I’m going to get Popsicles,” I called. “Who wants to come with me?”
I had to get them to stop crying, because there was no way I could carry two screaming children upstairs and get them into the bath. So I thought I would melt into a puddle of relief when I heard “I do!”
It wasn’t the children, though. Nope. They were still wailing. It was Jack.
“I thought you might be able to use some babysitting help!” he hollered over the din. “But I see you have it all under control, so I’ll be going now.”
We both laughed, me kind of pitifully. I was so relieved.
Jack reached into a paper bag he was carrying and pulled out a yellow case with a clear top. He opened it to reveal a bunch of pieces of thick rope, all cut short. “So he can’t strangle himself or the other kid,” Jack half joked.
Adam quit crying. “Wow! Ropes!” he said.
“What do you say?” I asked.
“Thank you,” he sang.
Taylor had paused his crying for long enough to figure out what was going on, but he resumed. Until Jack handed him a level, that is. “Look,” Jack said, moving the level back and forth. Taylor was mesmerized by the green bubble.
“The best part is,” he said, “these can both go in the bathtub! So let’s go on up.”
I slid the Popsicles back into the freezer, figuring that a double crisis had now been averted. I watched in amazement as Taylor let Jack pick him up and Adam followed the two of them up the stairs.
I made Mom a bowl of ice cream and drizzled chocolate syrup on top. I walked into the living room, where she appeared to be dozing, and said, “Here, Mom.”
She looked at me like I had three heads. “What is this?”
“The ice cream you asked me for.”
“I would never ask you for ice cream. I don’t care for ice cream, and especially not that sorry excuse for chocolate fudge.”
I felt like the last couple of weeks had been categorized into good days and bad days. Today was a bad day. The worst part about the bad days was that I missed my mom. I wanted her back. I wanted her to laugh with me and give me guidance about Jack. Maybe tomorrow. But definitely not today.
I wondered, briefly, what it would be like if Carter were still here. Would we be in Peachtree Bluff? Would we still be in New York?
I’ll admit, I took my time going up the stairs. I was wiped out. I didn’t know how Sloane did this. Youth helped, I supposed, but Adam was gone so much that she didn’t have help a lot of the time. I was thankful, not for the first time, that the girls were older when Carter died. That hadn’t made it perfect, but it had definitely helped.
I could hear the bath running, and I could only assume that Jack had drugged the children, because they were sitting cross-legged on their towels by the tub. I walked in, leaned against the wall, and smiled as he said, “Where should we go on our magic carpets next?”
I was glad Sloane wasn’t there to hear Adam say, “Iraq to see our daddy!”
I couldn’t imagine how difficult that must be for these children. But they likely wouldn’t remember this particular deployment. Sloane would, though. It was hard for me to imagine that every other year of her life would be spent without her husband. But this was the life she had chosen, she was always reminding me. She knew what she was getting into when she married Adam. But I wasn’t sure that made it any easier for him to be away.
Taylor tried to get up, and Jack said, “Taylor! You’re going to fall off your magic carpet!”
And he was suddenly still again.
“Let’s take a bath in the river,” I said enthusiastically.
“Do you think there are snakes in the river?” Jack asked.
We had managed to get them both into the tub with no tears before I relaxed back, sitting on my heels, and said, “Jack, you were a godsend tonight. I don’t know how you knew to come over here, but I am so glad you did.”
I realized that having him here, with my family, was nice. It wasn’t scary and it didn’t feel strange.
He squeezed my hand. “Truth be told, I wanted to see you.” He paused. “Getting to play with my grandkids was a happy coincidence.”
I could feel the blood draining from my face.
“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing my hand again. “I didn’t mean my . . .”
He trailed off, and I heard a door slam followed by “Mooooommmmm!”
I had really had enough wailing for one night. The kids were plenty. I wasn’t sure I could deal with Emerson, too.
“We’re up here, honey,” I said.
She appeared at the bathroom doorway so quickly she must have sprinted up. “Mom!” It was then I realized this was an excited wail, not a devastated one. Whew!
I patted the floor beside me. “What’s the good news?”
This daughter of mine was so emotional. I wondered if I had babied her too much after Carter died, if I had overcompensated for his death by spoiling her, trying to make up for her lack of a father with too much of my own time and attention.
“Em!” I heard Sloane call.
“Up here!” She was still grinning.
“Have you told her yet?” Sloane asked, slightly out of breath.