"Looks like you and I have been deserted," he said, fumbling with a smile. He stretched his lips awkwardly. Every movement he made in his face seemed to bring him some pain. Why would anyone want to get so drunk he suffered like this? I wondered.
Suddenly, we heard the front door open. We both turned to see if it was Mama or Ian.
It was Ian.
His right eye was swollen and closed and his lip was split and bleeding. Both Daddy and I sat there with our own mouths wide open.
"What happened to you?" Daddy finally asked him. "I at into a fight," he said.
"I figured that. With who or what?" Daddy asked, smiling with ease this time.
Why was he so happy that Ian got into a fight?
"Some boy over at the park campground," Ian said, and looked at me.
Addison. I thought.
"Over what?" Daddy asked, still a half smile on his face.
"A butterfly," Ian replied.
"What? A butterfly?" Daddy's smiled evaporated. "What kind of reason for a fight is that?"
Ian didn't answer.
"Go clean yourself up. Ian, before your mother gets home." He started toward the bathroom.
"Wait a minute," Daddy called to him. "How did you do? What's the other guy look like?"
"An idiot," Ian said.
"Did you get in a few good shots, too, at least?" "I kicked him in the shins."
"Kicked him in the shins?"
"He's a lot taller than I am."
"Go wash up," Daddy said, sounding obviously disappointed. He turned to me after Ian went into the bathroom. "My first real fight was with a bigger, taller boy, too, but I hit him in the breadbasket with a haymaker that bent him over and then I drove an uppercut into his jaw and broke his front tooth. My father never stopped bragging about me, even though he had to pay for the kid's dental work," he added proudly. "Of course, I was suspended from school and your grandmother wasn't pleased, but I made my place in the standings and didn't have to get into too many fights afterward. It's all just part of growing up. Normal, that is," he added, looking toward the bathroom. "Kicked him in the shins. That's something a girl would do."
He returned to his sandwich. Then the phone rang and he got up to answer it.
"Hi," he said, sounding happy. Maybe it's Mama. I thought. "When?" he followed, his happy face disappearing. "She did what? Came right into the store? No. I didn't tell her your schedule. Why would I do that?"
He listened and then looked at me.
"She said she found it here? But...did you leave it here? Did you admit it was yours?"
He listened and squeezed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Then he shook his head. "Initials don't prove things, Kimberly. That was really stupid. Right. Sure. It's my fault. Nothing could be your fault. Just don't say anything more to anyone, will you? I'll handle it. I said, I'll handle it. I'll call you. Really stupid," he added, and hung up. He just stood there staring down at the floor.
"Is Mama coming back now?" I asked. He continued to just stare. "Daddy?"
"What?"
"Is Mama coming back now?"
"Oh, she's coming back, all right," he said. "I'd better get dressed and put on my bulletproof vest," he added, and headed quickly for the stairway.
I started to clean up after Daddy and myself, but left Ian's sandwich and lemonade on the table. He came out of the bathroom and hurried to the refrigerator to get some ice cubes. I watched him wrap them in a cloth and then press them to his lip first. Then he turned and glared at me.
"I found her and she denied everything, but I told her she was lying. She put her brother on me like a guard dog. He punched me before I knew what he was going to do. Their mother came out and I shouted at them all. Of course, Flora continued to deny it all. She claimed you made it up."
"I didn't make it up, Ian."
"I know that. You wouldn't have known what to say, but I told you not to go there!" he screamed.
I started to cry. He sat at the table and shifted his ice pack to his right eye.
"I'd call the police but you would be in a mess," he said. "What did you tell Father?"
"Nothing," I said through my sobs. "He didn't ask why you had a fight about a butterfly."
"Good. Where is he?"
"Someone called him and he ran upstairs to get dressed. I think Mama's on her way back."
"Let me think of a story," he said. "Maybe I will stick to the butterfly story. I know she would be very, very upset if she knew what you let that girl do to you."
"I didn't let her, Ian."
"You should have run right out and not waited."
I started to cry again.
"Okay, okay," he said. "Stop crying. Just don't tell her anything about it. I'll handle it," he said. "Did you clean up that scratch and put a new bandage on it like I told you to do?"
"Yes."
"And you put your clothes in the washer?"
"Yes," I said, sucking in my tears.
"All right I'll get right on that."
He tried to eat but moaned with pain when he chewed. Finally, he pushed the sandwich away, got up, and went to the washing machine. I finished cleaning up the kitchen for Mama and then went to my room. I had other books to read and games I had brought along, but nothing kept me interested. I kept going to my window and looking out for our car and Mama's return. I heard Daddy come down the stairs and go into the living room to turn on the television set and watch a ball game.
Mama would be upset when she saw Ian, but maybe he would make it good again with his explanation. She always believed whatever he said. Tomorrow we would go horseback riding and everything would return to the way it was. I wouldn't set foot in the woods again unless Ian asked me to go somewhere with him.
I lowered myself onto my bed and closed my eyes. I felt terrible about disappointing Ian. He was only trying to protect me and even got into a fight because of me. All of this was happening because of my precocious puberty. I couldn't wait for the medicine to work. I wanted to return to the girl I was and not have to think about tadpoles and eggs and new feelings. I was never very worried about boys. If anything, they were just annoying. Now I would be afraid to be in the same room alone with any boy.
My sadness made my fatigue deepen. I couldn't open my eyes. My legs were aching, too. Before I knew it. I fell asleep and I didn't wake up until I heard the sound of something smash against the living room wall.
I sat up and listened.
It was strangely quiet. Had I imagined it? I slipped off the bed and opened my door to peer out.
Mama was standing in the living room. She had that bag in her hands and suddenly turned it upside down. A gold cosmetic case fell out, along with a locket.
Daddy sat there looking at her.
"Don't bother to make up any stories. Christopher," she said. "Either you pack and leave or I will get the kids together and leave."
She turned and walked toward the stairway. Ian was standing in his bedroom doorway, too. She didn't look at either of us. If she had, she surely would have stopped to ask Ian what had happened to him. Instead, she went up the stairs, her feet pounding on the steps.
Daddy turned back to his ball game. He watched it for a few moments and then he slammed his fist down on the chair, stood up, turned off the set, and followed her.
He didn't look at us either. We looked at each other.
And for the first time I could ever remember. Ian looked absolutely terrified.
14 The Crazy House
. Daddy left, not us. Mama and he were shouting at each other upstairs, and then he packed his bag and rushed out of the cabin when a rental car company delivered another automobile. I watched out of my bedroom window. He didn't even stop to say goodbye to Ian or me. He got into the car quickly and drove off fast.
"Ian, Jordan," I heard Mama call as she descended the stairway. "Come out here."
I came out first and then, when Ian stepped out and she saw him. Mama brought her hand to her cheek and moaned as if all the pain' had
flown from his face to hers.
"What happened to you, Ian?"
"It's all right. I'll be all right," he said. "The swelling's gone down considerably."
"What happened?"
"I got into an argument and then a fight with a boy over at the campground in the park," he said. "It's not important. Forget about it. I'm not going over there anymore."
"Did your father see you?"
She shook her head. "He didn't tell me a thing about it, which doesn't surprise me. What was the argument about, Ian?"
"It was stupid, Mother. I don't want to talk about it anymore."
He looked down at the floor, which was usually his way of letting someone know they could talk until they were blue in the face and he wouldn't answer or speak about the subject. Whenever he did that to Daddy. Daddy would shake him so hard it looked like he was frying to rearrange everything inside him, but that did nothing and Daddy would give up and walk away.
Mama sighed. She knew the conversation had ended.
"Okay, come into the living room, both of you," she said, looking at me now.
Ian glanced at me with eyes that said. Keep your mouth shut, and then we followed her. She stood by the window.
"Sit on the sofa," she told us without turning around. She sighed so deeply. I thought her heart had cracked. "Your father and I are going to separate," she said. "I'm getting a divorce. There are lots of reasons for it, but as they say, the straw that broke the camel's back was my discovering he's been seeing someone else on the sly, apparently for some time, too."
She turned around to face us. She looked pale, but the area around her mouth was crimson. It looked like it had been burned. Her eyes were certainly inflamed.
"It's not my intention to turn you two against him. You'll make your own judgments about him when you're older, although I suspect Ian's old enough to do so now," she said, looking at him.
"Are we going to live here?" he asked.
"No. I'll be finding us a place to live back in Bethlehem. For the time being, however, it's good we have this place. I've already made a phone call to a real estate agent who is lining up potential houses. I'll rent one first and then we'll set. We'll return to the mansion to get our things, too. I just don't want to do it immediately. I'm not in the mood to face your grandmother.
"There's never been a divorce in the March family and that will be her primary concern and complaint. There's no doubt in my mind that if she wasn't confused about what is and what isn't important, she would have divorced your grandfather rather than tolerate the way he treated her. The March men are all apples that didn't or don't fall far from the tree," she added. "I'm no March woman. I'm not going to pretend nothing has happened or is happening and busy myself with distractions so I won't think about it.
"However. I am sorry that all this is happening to you two. It's no fun being part of a broken family. You're going to have more challenges, more problems. Just never blame yourselves for any of this.. It has nothing to do with either of you. It's just between your father and me."
"Daddy's not coming back here?" I asked.
"Not while we're here, Jordan. You'll see him in about a week or so back in Bethlehem when I go look at some of the possible new homes."
"Did you call a lawyer already?" Ian asked her.
She smiled. "Yes, Ian. I called a lawyer before I returned to the cabin today and it's not one of the March lawyers. He's the son of the man who was my father's attorney, Peter Morris. Did you both have your lunch?"
"Yes," Ian said quickly. He glanced at me again. "Jordan went looking for plants with me and slipped and fell in mud. I have her dress washed and in the drier. I cleaned her shoes, too," he said.
She nodded. "I know you'll always take care of your sister," she said, and then shook her head. "Look at you. Why did you get into a fight, Ian? You've never gotten into a fight before, have you?"
"The boy was a jerk. Be hit me first. That's the only way he knows how to settle an argument. Forget about it. I'll be fine," he told her.
"I know," she said. "We'll all be fine. We will," she said, but her fact was beginning to fracture like a piece of fragile china. Her lips quivered. Her eyes grew glassy, "I'm going to take a rest now," she said. 'Don't wander away from the cabin. We'll be going out to dinner. I don't feel like cooking tonight,"
"Okay, Mother," Ian said.
She started out, stopped, and returned to hug us both. Then she hurried back to the stairs and up to her room. Ian looked at me because I was already crying, tears streaking down my fact.
"If there's one thing she doesn't need now. Jordan, it's you being a baby. We have to be strong for her. Don't let her see you cry," he warned. He closed his eyes because he had a shot of pain in his lips.
"What did she mean about Daddy seeing someone else?"
"Probably that old girlfriend he employed. Apparently, he was seeing her here. No wonder he was so nice to Mr. Pitts. He didn't want him blabbing about it."
"I don't understand what you mean."
"Forget about it for now." He grimaced from another shot of pain in his lip.
"I'm sorry you got into a fight because of me, Ian."
"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry you went over there. I can set I have to take even more interest and responsibility for you, especially now. When you have questions about yourself, don't bother Mother and certainly don't go ask any strangers anything. Do you understand, Jordan?"
"Yes."
"Good. I have some things to do," he said, rose, and went to his room.
I stopped crying and went to my room, where I sat and stared out the windows. I wanted to keep crying. I knew enough about divorce to know it would turn our world topsy-turvy. Our parents were no longer going to be husband and wife. There were kids in my class whose parents had gotten divorces. The other kids called them ping-pang balls, bouncing back and forth from one house to another, one side of the family to the other side, each time pretending they liked the side they were with better. Some of the pingFong balls took advantage and asked one parent for things the other one wouldn't give them or couldn't afford. I heard their stories. They tried to make it sound as if they were happier, but I knew in my heart that they weren't.
One of the ping-pong balls was a girl named Denise Potter. She lived with her father, not her mother, because her mother had run off with someone. I didn't know that. Ian told me because he knew her older sister, Janet. Be said Janet was forced to grow up quickly and take on some of her mother's responsibilities in the house. She had to go home right after school and couldn't join any teams or activities. Be told me she hated her mother now.
Would we hate Daddy? I wondered. Did this mean Mama hated him already? Would Grandmother Emma hate us and never talk to us again? If Daddy wasn't with us all the time anymore, would Ian have to become the daddy just like Janet Potter had to become the mother? There were so many new questions raining down upon me that I thought I would drown in a downpour of question marks.
I fell asleep on the rug, probably because of all the aches in my body and in my heart. When I opened my eyes again. I could see that some clouds had come rolling in over each other, thickening and promising a thunderstorm. I sat up. The scratch on my leg thumped. I didn't do all that good a job of bandaging it. I realized Mama still didn't know about it either. She came into my room just as I removed the bandage to look at it.
"How did you do that?" she asked.
"When I fell," I said quickly.
She stared at inc. "Why did you fall, Jordan? Were you running after Ian? Did he not want you to be with him?"
"I just wasn't watching, where I was going," I said.
She knelt down and looked at it. "This is a bad scratch. You put something on it?"
I nodded. "Ian told me to."
"Good. Let me fix you a better bandage," she said, and we went into the bathroom.
I looked closely at her face as she worked on me. her eyes were filled with such pain, it made my heart ache again.
&
nbsp; "Are you going to marry someone else?" I asked.
"What?" She smiled. "At this point, Jordan. I wouldn't be the one to recommend marriage for anyone."
"Are we going to have enough money?"
"Sure we will. Don't worry so much," she said, running her hand through my hair. "We're going to do just fine, honey, just fine. Your grandmother doesn't think we can live without her, but she's in for a big surprise. Just let me worry about all that. Be a little girl," she said. "As hard as that is for you." Her lips started to tremble again.
"With all this, he chooses to be so selfish," she said, sucked in her breath quickly, and rose. "Come on, we're going to have a fun dinner tonight. Brush your hair and meet me out in the living room. Ian's almost ready," she said.
She took us to a place called the Crazy House. It was a restaurant where the waiters and waitresses were dressed in funny outfits, shirts and pants that didn't match, two different shoes and socks, dresses that were too big or too small. The waitresses had their lipstick on too thick or off their mouths, too. Occasionally, they would do things wrong
deliberately and there were silly songs playing. The menu had food described in a funny way, too. There was the Paranoid's Delight, which was really a hamburger but with an extra half of a bun, Neurotic Shakes, and Claustrophobia, which was meatballs and spaghetti that had to be served on two plates. Ian Eked the restaurant Yen, much. Mama said she thought considering all that had happened, we belonged there. Despite it all, we had a very good time. I never saw Ian laugh as much. His eyes looked a lot better and he was able to eat without pain.
In my secret heart of hearts. I was hoping Daddy would be there when we returned to the cabin. I was hoping he had regretted all the bad things he had done to Mama and he had returned to apologize and be her to forgive him, but he wasn't there. When we drove in, the smiles and laughter seemed to evaporate. We didn't say much. Mama went upstairs to put some things together and Ian and I watched television.
"Are you mad at Daddy?" I asked him. I wasn't sure how I should feel toward him.
"Yes and no," he said. "How can it be both?"
"I'm mad at him for what he did, but I'm not surprised. I doubt any of this will change him either. We just have to stick together and help each other. Jordan, especially Mother. You have a double whammy."