Mary Ellen Courtney - Hannah Spring 02 - Spring Moon (13 page)

I didn’t want to go back into the cemetery, drive over dead people and climb the wall again. I doubted the guard lady had that level of tolerance for me. She thought being from Hawaii was suspicious; she probably thought it was a foreign country. With my luck, they didn’t take American Express. I took note of the fact that my brain was back to brawling. That was good.

I pawed through the glove compartment and pulled out a map the size of a placemat for San Diego. If I wanted to find Anthony’s Fish Grotto or the San Diego Zoo, I was in good shape. Though the zoo was off the scalloped edge. The car had a built-in compass. I knew north from south, with a compass. Without a compass I was hopeless. I had the cemetery brochure and plot plan, but it lacked a basic compass thingy, so no map.

I made a plan. I sneaked back in so I could point the car at the section of wall by Bob and Sherry’s and note the direction on the plot plan. Then I set the trip mileage counter to zero and tracked as straight a path as I could back to the entrance. I drove out of the cemetery and waved good-bye for a second time. The woman’s eyes were Joyce squinty slits. Tough luck lady, you aren’t going to find the occupants of the car seats abandoned in the cemetery, because I already abandoned them at Bob and Sherry’s.

I struck out and noted every compass change. I’d reverse my path to get in the vicinity; I was counting on divine intervention to find their house. I hoped they’d hung out one of those kitschy wood burned signs my other grandmother used to make.
Welcome
To Bob & Sherry’s Abode
. They didn’t strike me as kitschy sign types. My breasts were leaking and twinging. If I knew Chance, he was rooting around in Sherry’s wrap looking for breakfast. That boy was shameless when it came to food.

I usually spilled everything to Jon. Not this. This was going in the black box of shame, never to pass my lips. I could see it in print, pulsing in a long list of black and white accusations in court documents. Anna would look at me sideways thinking maybe she should tank the custody deal and save the children.

I had to keep adding and subtracting NE from N, and tenths of miles, as I turned away from and then back toward my course. I didn’t have a bird’s-eye view. Navigating our earthbound maze with the lousy sight lines is hard and confusing.

I slowly rolled down what I thought was their block. I was pointed in the right direction and caught glimpses of the cemetery wall between the houses. Everyone was inside having breakfast. Then Gus flew off the porch. He ran so fast, his ear touched the ground and drew a dark green circle in the dewy grass. Meggie was right behind him. He feinted and yipped while she hopped up and down barefoot in the morning sun. Drops of glittery water sprayed up around her happy legs. I started breathing again. Bob waved as I got out of the car.

“I thought you might have to come back over the wall,” he said.

“I think the guard would have me arrested if I drove on the lawn again. The empty car seats had her thinking child murderer.”

“Breakfast is ready. Sherry’s walking Chance. She’s in love.”

“He has that effect. You better watch out, that might not be all he’s doing.”

“He tried. I heard her say, ‘Oh Sugar’ in a voice I thought was reserved for me.”

“That’s my boy,” I said.

I picked up Meggie and dried off her legs with the bottom of my tee shirt. She sat on her phone books and Gus took up his station at her feet. Chance had a jug while the rest of us had bacon and eggs and buttered sourdough toast. I told them the egg tooting and bullfrog story which had them laughing, even Meggie.

I packed up our things while Sherry blew on Chance’s tummy and Gus practiced his herding skills on Meggie.

“I want to be the white sheep of the family,” I said. “I can’t tango, but I can teach you the hula.”

“Good. We want to see you again,” said Sherry.

We took pictures. Meggie cried when she realized we were leaving Gus behind. It felt like we’d been there for a year. A good year. We were fed, washed and rested. It was back to that ideal ratio, three arms to every child.

Staying for breakfast meant I hit inbound traffic; Karin and family were off in their day. I unloaded the car and settled us in the guest room. I put a bathing suit and sunscreen on everyone and sent a picture to Jon. He called.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up with that text,” I said.

“Text anytime. How are you feeling?”

“Much better. I slept like the dead. It’s quiet next to a cemetery. I want to live with Bob and Sherry. She sent me off with boyfriend pie. I told her I want to be the white sheep of the family.”

“You would. What’s boyfriend pie?”

“Rhubarb. Sweet with a dangerous tang.”

“Ah. So not butterscotch.”

“Rhubarb is for the road. Butterscotch is for home.”

“I knew you’d get bored with me.”

“You’re rhubarb with butterscotch sauce.”

“I’m not dangerous,” he said. “What’s your plan for today?”

“Hang around the pool. We’re all going out for Ethiopian tonight.”

“Fed Ex will be there by noon. I transferred more money into your checking account; the cash is available now.”           

“You should see the trunk of the car. Mom went overboard. I could set up on a street corner, sell stuff and make back the eighty dollars in ten minutes.”

“I’m sorry I put you through that yesterday,” he said. “I hoped you wouldn’t need to go back there.”

“I guess I did,” I said.

We signed off and I called Sherry to let them know we’d arrived. I planned to send her a lilikoi pie-making package as a thank you.

FedEx delivered my new credit card, and an overnight box from Jon with an assortment of my favorite ginger flowers. He thought I’d like to make an ikebana arrangement for Karin. I made them for his and Victor’s restaurants a few times a week. He’d included Meggie’s flower toe flip-flops with their highly detailed impressions of her ten toes, in dirt. I could see him smile when he packed those. There was a sandwich bag with five hundred dollars in twenties.

I sent him a thank you text. I got one right back, sent without comment. It was one of my grandmother’s favorite Emily Dickinson poems. I’d read it to him at our wedding.

I was trying my hardest to protect myself from him and he was making it damn near impossible with his poems and flowers and flip-flops.

Ethiopian food was perfect; Meggie could eat with her hands. Most people would hear the story of the truck stop, cemetery wall climbing, and staying with Bob and Sherry and think I was nuts; but I was with friends who worked in the film business. To them it sounded like just another day at the office, though they didn’t know me to go all bits slapping people. I usually took the snotty voice route. I didn’t tell them about misplacing the children, however briefly.

“I can take the kids tomorrow while you have lunch with Marty,” said Amy. “Our cast is down for a day.”

Even though Amy still worked with me on production design, her heart was in wardrobe and costume where she worked with her best friend Claire.

We got home early and sat outside while Karin’s jock daughter Callie gave Chance a bath in the kitchen sink and Meggie watched Richard wrap his dinosaur collection for her and Chance. She tried repeating the names after him. He’d spent years going through his dinosaur phase. His figurines were so accurate; if you closed one eye you could imagine them walking the earth. He assured me that Chance would go through a dinosaur phase. It was a rite of passage for the young boy crowd. I hoped Meggie would get into dinosaurs instead of Barbie.

“You sure about this work thing?” asked Karin.

“I’m not sure about anything,” I said. “But I’ll feel better when I have my own money. For all I know, no one will hire a mother with an infant and toddler. I need to figure out what’s next. You interested in working together again?”

They looked at each other. When they’d seen a marriage counselor to get through Oscar’s affair, she’d been adamant that couples need to be in the same place to succeed.

“Not on location,” said Karin. “We’re both going to stay in town for now.”

Oscar went in to check on the kids. He wasn’t comfortable when conversations went that direction.

“Sherry said men can be too nice,” I said. “Like stupid nice, instead of nice nice.”

“Jon hiring Celeste is definitely stupid nice. What am I missing here? Why don’t you just tell him no?”

“We’ve never done that. I want him not to hire her on his own.”

“Then you could end up with her as a new partner.”

“I’ll leave. I’m not going to be a sister wife.”

“So you’ll give up your ground to her? Be a single mother? Lose a husband who sends you flowers and poems? He’s not going to get back together with Celeste. After a big mess, he’s going to end up with someone else entirely. She’s going to play mommy to your kids. She’ll tell him to fire Celeste, talk trash about you, and feed your kids McDonalds when they visit.”

“Jon would never allow McDonalds.”

“Don’t be so sure. Who saw this coming? I don’t know that I consider it even stupid nice.”

“Is that how you thought about it with Oscar?”

“There wasn’t anything nice about what Oscar did. Just stupid. And yes, I thought about it. I didn’t want that skanky ho around my kids. Aren’t you? Because if you’re not, you need to slow down.”

“It’s Jon’s decision. He’s a grown up.”

“I’m going to say something, Hannah. I don’t want you to take it as criticism of Jon. We love Jon. But sometimes you act like he’s smarter than you are just because he’s ten years older and has already raised a kid. He’s not. He’s not a god. He’s got his stuff. You’re losing yourself here.”

Oscar brought a clean but squawking Chance outside.

“He’s hungry, Mama,” he said. “I can’t have him doing that to my daughter.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said. “He takes after his father. Hand him over, I’ll stick a jug in him. Jon calls them jugs now.”

“And you’re afraid to tell him no?”

“Yeah, you got the jugs,” said Oscar.

“You better be talking to me, Oscar,” said Karin.

“Oh I am,” he said. “I am.”

He went back inside, calling bath time to Meggie. He enjoyed having babies in the house again. Meggie hopped down the hall with him. Karin looked down at her breasts.

“You going to have more kids?” I asked.

“Bite your tongue. I’m getting implants.”

“You are not.”

“Yes I am. I deflated after those kids. Not Dolly Parton. Just perky Cs. Maybe Ds. You know how L.A. works.”           

“You’re crazy.”

“Wait until you move back before you start casting stones.”

“You up for Venice on Saturday?” I asked. “I want to get a henna tattoo.”

“Why don’t you get a real one? Jon hates tattoos. We can have brunch at The Lobster first.”

We all turned in and I called Jon. The background noise wasn’t familiar.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“Airport.”

We listened to each other breathe. He hated private phone calls in public places so it was like talking to a text message.

“You coming home?” he asked.

“Sunday. I changed our flight today. I had to pay extra, I’m sorry. It was the only way I could get a direct flight. Everything else had two-stops on such short notice, it would take forever with the kids. They won’t charge for the extra box with Mom’s loot. I booked the shuttle.”

“I’ll cancel the shuttle. What flight?”

“Two sixty-five. In time to take Chance in the ocean for the first time.”

He was so quiet I thought we’d lost our connection. Unlike good old Steve, Jon was never quiet just to be a controlling asshole.

“Jon?”

Nothing. I could hear flight announcements. He blew his nose. He got hit hard when the ash from Kilauea drifted our way. He cleared his throat and said, “Hey, man. How’s it going?” I must have been riding around in his pocket with half a connection. I hung up and called back but it went to voicemail.

“Hi Jon, it’s Hannah,” I said. “We must have lost our connection. I’m going to bed now. Have safe travels.”

I turned it off and went to bed.

The night turned strange. Chance was uncharacteristically fussy. He cried. He wouldn’t be comforted. He didn’t want to nurse, he didn’t want to bounce or sway or have his back rubbed. I went to the farthest corner of the house so he wouldn’t wake up everybody. Oscar came out in a robe; a gray beard shadow had started on his blue-black skin.

“He just won’t settle down,” I said. “He’s been crying since midnight. He’s never like this.”

We took turns walking him. He cried with brief periods of calm that he used to gather strength for the next round of crying. After two hours, I started crying. Oscar ended up with Chance in one arm, his other around my shoulder, walking in circles in the den. I bawled myself out. Chance finally ran out of energy at hour three and dropped off to sleep. I was under him on the couch, afraid to move. He shuddered, like he might wake up and start all over. Oscar covered us with a blanket.

“Will you sleep with Meggie?” I whispered. “If she wakes up alone, she’ll freak out and wake up the whole house.”

I stared at the ceiling and worried. Did Chance know something I didn’t? I hadn’t been able to say good-bye to Jon. My father got in a plane and I hadn’t said good-bye. I hadn’t had a premonition about Jon like I had my father, but maybe his son was having one. He twitched in his sleep. Hot and cold anxiety surged in waves under my skin. My heart pounded; my gut was lined with ice.