pretty lace bra dangling from Beth’s pocket, she blanches and pulls the offending lingerie out.
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” she sputters, “we weren’t...I wasn’t... Nothing was going on, it’s that little trouble-maker.” She turns into the hallway leaving Kendra a bit befuddled.
“Her grandson, Max, is here and nothing is safe from him,” I say by way of explanation. Apparently that’s good enough for Kendra because she changes tracks immediately.
“How are you doing?” She zooms in on me and for the next hour she proceeds to question, probe, and challenge me, leaving me feeling like I’ve been wrung out and hung up to dry. Other than to offer a meek apology and a cup of coffee to Kendra, Beth has kept a low profile. It isn’t until Kendra gets ready to leave that she appears in the doorway.
“Done?” she asks no one in particular, and Kendra is quicker than I am.
“For today,” she says, like I’m not in the room. “First order of business is to ditch that walker and work on his stability. I’ve got an adjustable cane in the car, which will be necessary outside of the house, but inside I want him to try and get around without. He just needs to remember not to make any sudden movements and to turn his head along with his eyes. It’s often the sudden eye-movements that trigger a shock to the equilibrium. That, and sudden changes in position; laying down, standing up, bending over—those are all triggers. Learn to move with control. I’ll be back tomorrow and bring my needles for the headaches.”
“Needles?”
Both women look at me and chuckle, but it’s Beth who speaks. “One of Kendra’s specialties is acupuncture. Didn’t you know?”
Fuck no, I didn’t know. Even though I manage to tough it out for the occasional drawing of blood, needles scare the shit out of me. The idea of being used a human pincushion is not at all appealing, and yet I manage to smile and hold it together.
“I look forward to it,” I grind out between my teeth, making them laugh even louder not buying my bluster for a second.
CHAPTER FIVE
“G ammy, dwink fow me?”
Max’s melodic little voice, which makes everything he says sound like it should be followed be a huge question mark, never fails to put a smile on my face. The dramatic rise in pitch toward the ends of his sentences as endearing as the perpetual smile on his face. Even though he has had nothing but a sunny disposition for the past few days, his abounding energy has me worn to the bone. I don’t think I’m alone; Clint has crashed each night, not long after Max goes down for the count.
Thank God for decent nights and long naps, but this morning I think we could all use a change of scenery.
I pull my coffee out of the reach of Max’s little grabby hands—again—and look over to the table where Clint is tinkering with some new drawings. Something he’s taken to doing when he’s not working with Kendra, playing with Max, or sleeping.
“What are you working on?” I try to engage him in conversation that’s been sorely lacking in the days since we’ve been back in Cedar Tree. His moodiness is still present, and I’ve got to admit, it’s starting to feel a little awkward staying here with Max, looking after him. Although he’s been surprisingly wonderful and attentive with Max, he never says much more than the occasional one or two word answers to anything I ask him. Maybe inquiring after something he obviously has an interest in will get him talking. I can try.
His hands still and his eyes lift from the paper to look at me.
“Doodling,” he says, before turning his attention back to the paper before him.
Not letting the one-word answer discourage me I push on.
“I was thinking we could go for lunch at the diner? Be good to get out some.”
Truth is, I miss the place. Miss my friends. I feel I’ve been stuck in limbo for all this time, and despite the fact that Max is quite the distraction, I miss conversation; chitchatting
“Oh for fuck’s sake!” she sputters, “we weren’t...I wasn’t... Nothing was going on, it’s that little trouble-maker.” She turns into the hallway leaving Kendra a bit befuddled.
“Her grandson, Max, is here and nothing is safe from him,” I say by way of explanation. Apparently that’s good enough for Kendra because she changes tracks immediately.
“How are you doing?” She zooms in on me and for the next hour she proceeds to question, probe, and challenge me, leaving me feeling like I’ve been wrung out and hung up to dry. Other than to offer a meek apology and a cup of coffee to Kendra, Beth has kept a low profile. It isn’t until Kendra gets ready to leave that she appears in the doorway.
“Done?” she asks no one in particular, and Kendra is quicker than I am.
“For today,” she says, like I’m not in the room. “First order of business is to ditch that walker and work on his stability. I’ve got an adjustable cane in the car, which will be necessary outside of the house, but inside I want him to try and get around without. He just needs to remember not to make any sudden movements and to turn his head along with his eyes. It’s often the sudden eye-movements that trigger a shock to the equilibrium. That, and sudden changes in position; laying down, standing up, bending over—those are all triggers. Learn to move with control. I’ll be back tomorrow and bring my needles for the headaches.”
“Needles?”
Both women look at me and chuckle, but it’s Beth who speaks. “One of Kendra’s specialties is acupuncture. Didn’t you know?”
Fuck no, I didn’t know. Even though I manage to tough it out for the occasional drawing of blood, needles scare the shit out of me. The idea of being used a human pincushion is not at all appealing, and yet I manage to smile and hold it together.
“I look forward to it,” I grind out between my teeth, making them laugh even louder not buying my bluster for a second.
CHAPTER FIVE
“G ammy, dwink fow me?”
Max’s melodic little voice, which makes everything he says sound like it should be followed be a huge question mark, never fails to put a smile on my face. The dramatic rise in pitch toward the ends of his sentences as endearing as the perpetual smile on his face. Even though he has had nothing but a sunny disposition for the past few days, his abounding energy has me worn to the bone. I don’t think I’m alone; Clint has crashed each night, not long after Max goes down for the count.
Thank God for decent nights and long naps, but this morning I think we could all use a change of scenery.
I pull my coffee out of the reach of Max’s little grabby hands—again—and look over to the table where Clint is tinkering with some new drawings. Something he’s taken to doing when he’s not working with Kendra, playing with Max, or sleeping.
“What are you working on?” I try to engage him in conversation that’s been sorely lacking in the days since we’ve been back in Cedar Tree. His moodiness is still present, and I’ve got to admit, it’s starting to feel a little awkward staying here with Max, looking after him. Although he’s been surprisingly wonderful and attentive with Max, he never says much more than the occasional one or two word answers to anything I ask him. Maybe inquiring after something he obviously has an interest in will get him talking. I can try.
His hands still and his eyes lift from the paper to look at me.
“Doodling,” he says, before turning his attention back to the paper before him.
Not letting the one-word answer discourage me I push on.
“I was thinking we could go for lunch at the diner? Be good to get out some.”
Truth is, I miss the place. Miss my friends. I feel I’ve been stuck in limbo for all this time, and despite the fact that Max is quite the distraction, I miss conversation; chitchatting
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