Part 28 (1/2)
It doesn't faze me anymore. I've seen worse.
Michael leads him into the pool. Evan climbs into the shallow water. Michael takes back the ice-filled washcloth. He dabs under Evan's nose, doing a little cleanup. Evan will have a giant, swollen honker. But again, we've seen worse.
”Super Soaker!” Evan shouts. He picks up the first gun, fills it with pool water, and lines up his father in his sights. I wait for Michael to protest, to make some motion to protect his sharply pressed s.h.i.+rt. Instead, he grabs the second Super Soaker, and for the next ten minutes, father and son go at it while I retreat back inside the house to watch from behind the safety of the gla.s.s slider.
Maybe this is therapeutic. Maybe this is exactly what they need. Because Evan's coming down off his toes. And his shrieking slowly transitions from gla.s.s-shattering to little-boy fun. Maybe this will turn out okay after all. Maybe this will be my lucky day.
Michael's soaked. He's laughing, declaring defeat. ”You have gotten strong,” he tells Evan. ”Here, I'm gonna stand in a sunbeam and dry off.”
Evan hesitates, unsure if his father is leaving now, disappearing forever. But when Michael remains standing at the edge of the deck, eight feet away, Evan finally relaxes. He gets busy with his fire engines and I join Michael outside.
”He's calming down,” Michael says softly. ”Managing his emotions better than I thought.”
”Some days are like that,” I say.
”And other days?”
”I administered Ativan five times last week.”
Michael looks at me. For once, he doesn't seem distant or angry. He seems tired. Maybe he looks as tired as I feel. Or maybe that's only my wishful thinking. ”I didn't come here to fight,” he begins, so naturally, I brace myself. ”You're going to do what you're going to do. I've come to accept that, Victoria. Whether we're married or not, you're Evan's mother and you're going to do what you think is best for him, regardless of my opinions on the subject.”
”What's best for him,” I repeat stubbornly.
”Sure. But, Victoria ...” He spreads his hands. ”For your own sake ... how can you go on like this? For every good moment, there's gotta be half a dozen more when you're pulling out your hair. Every day is about trying to hold off the inevitable explosion, then picking up the pieces afterward. You don't get time for yourself. You don't get time with your daughter. Chelsea misses you, you know. One night a week isn't what a six-year-old needs from her mom.”
”You said you didn't come here to fight.”
Michael sighs, drops his hands. ”I'm trying to find some middle ground. For Chelsea's sake. For Evan's sake. For all of our sakes.”
”Such as?”
”Chelsea's therapist thinks-”
”Chelsea has a therapist?”
Michael appears bewildered. ”Of course she has a therapist. It was part of the terms of the divorce.”
”I didn't realize ... I thought you had a different opinion on that subject.”
”Oh, for G.o.d's sake, Victoria, I'm not a total a.s.shole.” His voice has grown hard. Evan immediately stares at us from the pool, body tensing, as if ready to join the battle. Which side would he take? His father's; no doubt in my mind.
Michael, however, waves him off. ”Sorry, buddy. Just telling some story from work. Hey, I see another fire engine over there on the deck. Maybe that one can help the others with the rescue operation.”
Evan obediently trots out of the pool to fetch his smaller fire truck. Michael and I resume our conversation.
”The therapist, Dr. Curtin, would like you to bring in Evan a few times, just to get to know each other. Once Evan is comfortable with her and the surroundings, then Chelsea can show up, too. She and Evan can visit each other, in a controlled environment where both of them will hopefully feel safe.”
I don't know what to say. ”When? How ... how often?”
Michael shrugs. ”It'd have to be weekends, given that Chelsea's school's about to start. I figured a couple of times a month? Say, every other weekend, an hour at a time, see how it goes.”
”And if it doesn't go well? If Evan has a bad episode?”
Michael shrugs, as if to say, what's he supposed to do?
”It would be unfair to string them along,” I say. ”To reintroduce Chelsea and Evan, only to halt the relations.h.i.+p again.”
”I agree. Hopefully, having a professional such as Dr. Curtin involved will help manage the downside. Then again, given Evan's volatility ... We try it or we don't try it, Victoria. Those are the options.”
I have to think about it. He's right, of course. There are no guarantees with a child like Evan. We're supposed to set him up for success, but some days I don't know what that is.
”He misses his sister,” I say at last. ”He asks for Chelsea nearly every day.” I look at him. ”He misses you, too.”
Michael looks down now. He studies his leather shoes. ”I'll be there every other weekend, as well.”
”The History Channel is his favorite channel,” I hear myself say. ”He knows almost everything there is to know about the Romans. Dates, famous leaders, major battles. He's smart, Michael. He's unbelievably smart. And he's incredibly lonely.”
”I know.”
”How ... how could you leave us? How could you give up on him like that?”
”Because Chelsea's lonely, too. And troubled and traumatized and scared to death that, one day, she's going to wake up as violent and angry as her brother. That's a lot for a little girl to deal with, Victoria, and as long as she lived here, it wasn't going to get dealt with. Every day would be about Evan. But Chelsea needs us, too.”
His words are matter-of-fact. Somehow, this makes them harder to take.
”What does Melinda think of this?” I ask pointedly.
At the mention of his fiancee, Michael stiffens, but doesn't retreat. ”My kids are her kids. She gets that.”
”So you'll start over. A new little family. Is she young? Does she want children? Does that scare the c.r.a.p out of you?”
He regards me evenly. ”Yes, she wants kids. And yeah, it scares the c.r.a.p out of me.”
”It's not fair,” I whisper.
”No, Victoria, it's not.” He hesitates. For a second, I think he might say more, he might touch my cheek. Then the moment pa.s.ses.
I can't look at him anymore. I stare down at the deck and will myself not to cry. This is not about me. This is about Evan. Getting to see his sister again. Getting to see his father again. Evan and his sister reclaiming part of their family.
”I'll bring him to the doctor's office,” I say. ”I'll work with Dr. Curtin. If this means Evan can see you and Chelsea, I'll do what I can.”
”Thank you.”
”Thank you,” I say, on behalf of Evan. Then I don't speak anymore because my throat is thick with tears and I don't want to say something stupid, such as I'm lonely, too. Or even worse, I still love you.
Michael crosses to Evan. He starts to say his goodbye. Evan doesn't take it well. Michael negotiates a compromise. One last round of Super Soaker warfare, then Evan can watch a show on the History Channel after Michael departs.