“I hear you got grounded,” Kent said.
“Yes, I did. For drinking and staying out past curfew.”
“That doesn’t sound like something you’d do.”
“Well, I did.” She folded the socks and put them on the bed, a touch of arrogance in the tilt of her eyebrows.
“Robby says you’re rebelling against this whole mess involving me and your family. Is that true?”
She found two more socks and poured her attention on them. “I suppose it is. I hadn’t really analyzed it.”
“That’s a good way to spoil a nice kid.”
“Since when did you and Robby get so buddy-buddy?”
“We just talked today in the locker room. I told him what happened between you and me.”
“About the kiss!” She looked up, horrified. “Oh, my God, how could you!”
He went into the room and sat down Indian fashion on the floor facing her, with a pile of unfolded laundry between them. “Listen, Chelsea, none of us are exactly children, but I think you and I have been acting pretty childish about it. Robby and I think it’s time we all started to get to know each other, and we can’t do that until we forget about that stupid kiss. After all, what was it but a nice little gesture that we liked each other? I can forget it if you can, and move on from there.”
“But you told my brother!”
“He actually took it quite well, and acted pretty levelheaded about it, much more than you and I did.”
“But he’ll tease me.”
“No, I don’t think so. He wants us all to be friends, and to try to get your mom and dad to see straight about this whole thing. He thinks that if the three of us present a united front, we might be able to get your mom to believe that there’s nothing between my mom and your dad. What do you think?”
“Is there?” She had stopped folding clothes again. Her blush had faded as she met his matter-of-fact gaze.
“No. I’d know it if there was.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” “Would she tell my mother that?”
“Tell her?”
“Yes, come over here and tell her.”
“I don’t know.”
“Because that’s the only way I can think of to convince my mother to let my dad come back home—if your mother gets right in my mother’s face and says she’s not having an affair with Daddy.”
Kent looked staggered. “Wow, that’s some radical idea!”
“It would work, wouldn’t it?” She threw her elbows into the air and bumped her temples with the heels of her hands. “What am I saying? You don’t even know my mother! How do you know if it would work? But I think it would, if we could get your mom to agree. What is she like?”
He gave it some thought. “She’s a pretty reasonable woman. And I think she feels bad that your parents broke up because we came here. She never meant for that to happen.”
“So she’d do it?”
“We could ask.”
“Right now?” When he didn’t respond, she rushed on. “It’s Saturday. She isn’t working, is she?”
“She works at home on Saturdays ... but I thought you were grounded.”
Chelsea clambered to her feet, excited. “You don’t think I’m going to let a little thing like that keep me from trying to get my parents back together, do you?” She stepped over his knee on her way to Robby’s room, and Kent pivoted on his backside, watching her disappear around the doorway.
“Hey, Chelsea, wait!”
She stuck her head back in. “I’ve been waiting since the first week of school and nothing has made my mother come to her senses yet. I’m not waiting any longer. Robbeee!” She flung open his door without asking. “I have an idea, Robby!”
*****
They took both cars and arrived in Kent’s driveway less than fifteen minutes later. When they got out of the cars Chelsea looked up at the house and breathed, “Gee, is this where you live?”
“My room is that one up there.” He pointed. “And that one is my mother’s.” Her light was on. “She’s home.”
While they advanced toward the house, Chelsea kept thinking, Gosh, he’s really my brother! How incredible to imagine that if things went the way she hoped, they’d be able to have a relationship in the future.
Inside, everything was new and fresh and beautifully coordinated. Kent pointed to a brass coat tree in the entry and said, “You can hang up your jackets, if you want.” Then he raised his voice and called, “Mother?”
Her voice drifted down from above. “Hi, honey, be right there! I think we should go out for supper tonight and celebrate. I solved one of my two big problems with the electronic switch today, and you had such a great school conference yesterday that ... Oh!” She appeared at a railing half a level above them. “I didn’t know you’d brought friends.”
She stood looking down while they looked up.
“They’re more than friends, Mom. They’re my sister and brother.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed softly, one hand fluttering to her heart.
“May I bring them up and introduce them?”
Monica recovered admirably, dropping her hand and letting it ride the railing as she moved toward them. “Of course.”
“Come on up,” Kent invited.
They followed and were met at the mouth of the steps by the woman who appeared as flummoxed by this sudden introduction as they were.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Chelsea and Robby Gardner.
“Hello,” she said, and shook each of their hands.
“You have a beautiful house,” Chelsea told her, scanning it slowly.
“Thank you,” Monica said, a little at a loss, looking to her son for help.
“Well ...” She gave a tense chuckle. “This is just so ... so unexpected.”
“I know. I’m sorry we didn’t give you any warning, Mom, but it sort of happened that way. I ran into Robby in the locker room, and he and I got to talking, and there were things I needed to say to Chelsea, and we all decided it was time we got to know each other, and I went over to their house, and ... well, here we are. But ...” He turned to Chelsea. “There’s something special we’d like to talk to you about. Do you want to ask her or should I?”
Before she could answer, Monica interrupted, “Please, children ... come on in, let’s sit down. Let me turn on a couple of lights here and ...” She busied herself snapping on lamps in the living room, and as it sprang to life, the teenagers found seats on the ivory sofa with its array of loose pastel cushions. “May I get you anything to drink? A soda? Mineral water?”
“No thanks,” they said in unison, and finally she found a perch, choosing a chair that situated them on three sides of a square, with a glass-topped table between them. They exchanged glances above a ceramic sea gull that stood on one brass leg.
“So,” Monica said. “You’ve formed some sort of truce at last.”
“Yes,” Chelsea replied, for Monica ended up looking straight into her eyes. She considered Robby next, studying him overtly, satisfying her curiosity without trying to hide the fact.
“It’s a curious moment for me,” she said candidly, “seeing you for the first time, knowing that you’re Kent’s half siblings. You’ll have to forgive me if I seem a bit rattled. I am.”
“I guess we are too.” Chelsea spoke for all of them, running her gaze past the two boys as if seeking their approval to act as their spokesperson.
“You’ve been together all day then?” Monica asked. “No, just an hour or so. The boys a little longer.”
“Well, I can see that everybody’s a little tense here, waiting for my reaction.” She settled her gaze on Kent. “I’ve been trying to prepare myself for the day this would happen, but never quite managed to do so. However, let me put everybody at ease by stating right from the outset that I believe this had to happen, and that it’s a good thing it did.” She spoke to Robby and Chelsea, who sat side by side on the sofa. “When I first got here and discovered t
hat Tom lived here and was the principal at Kent’s school, I felt quite threatened. Maybe I thought I’d lose Kent if Tom found out. On second thought, there’s no maybe about it—that was the case. But Kent made me realize that it was unfair of me to try to withhold anything more from him about his father, or to try to keep them separated. In time I came to realize that the same was true regarding you.” Again she shifted her gaze to Kent. It rested on him lovingly. “He’s an only child, and that can be a lonely row to hoe.” To Robby and Chelsea, “Your existence, while coming as a shock to us, could turn out to be a gift that we weren’t exactly expecting to find in this life. Especially Kent. I’ve spent a lot of time since we moved back here looking into his future, imagining the days when I grow old, and he’s left alone. Yes, he’ll have a wife someday—I hope—and children. But you”—she paused—“his sister and brother ... you two will be the gift that I couldn’t give him. So rest easy. I’m not going to throw a tantrum, or give you the cold shoulder because you’ve come here unannounced. Quite the opposite, in fact. I think it was high time we met.”
They all relaxed then, sank back against the cushions, and the kids exchanged quick glances of relief.
Kent said, “You know, I think I will have something to drink after all. Anybody else?”
While he was getting the drinks, Monica visited with the other two, and only when they all had glasses in their hands did she settle back, cross her knees, and ask, “So what was it you came here to ask me?”
Chelsea and Kent exchanged a glance that said, You first.
“Well?” Monica tilted her head. “Who’s going to tell me?”
“I guess I will,” Kent said, pulling forward to the edge of his chair.
“No, let me,” Chelsea interrupted. “She’s my mother, and it was my idea.”
Monica could see the girl’s face had grown blotchy with nervousness. She was gripping her glass with both hands.
“First I have to know something,” Chelsea began, “and it’s pretty hard to ask.”
Out of the blue, Robby spoke up. “I’m part of this too. I’ll ask. Ms. Arens, we need to know the truth—if you’re having an affair with our dad.”
“An af—” Monica’s stunned surprise was unmistakable. “An affair with your dad? Heavens no!”
Robby’s breath escaped in a whistle. His shoulders wilted. “Wow, that’s a relief.”
Chelsea took over, rushing ahead nonstop so she wouldn’t chicken out halfway through. “You see, my mother thinks you are, and she’s asked him to move out of the house, and he’s living with my grandpa, and our family is just going all to pot because of it, and there’s only one thing I can think of to get my mother to screw her head on straight, and that’s if you’d come over to our house and tell her right to her face that you and Daddy aren’t doing anything together besides talking about Kent! I mean, I understand that you’ve probably got to do that now and then. After all, he is both of your sons—I mean, a son to both of you—and it’s just like with us three”—she waved a hand taking in her two brothers—“we’re related and there’s no sense pretending we’re not. Like Kent said, we’ve been acting pretty childish about some of it, and so has my mother, but if you’d just come over to our house—please!—and tell her that she’s breaking up our family for nothing, maybe she’ll take Daddy back and everything will be right again. Will you?”
Chelsea’s eyebrows were elevated, her face so radiant with hope that Monica couldn’t help being touched by her courage. Nevertheless, as the only official adult of the group, she had to make them explore the risks.
“Your mother might not appreciate me invading her domain.”
“But you don’t understand! My mother’s had her way in all of this right from the beginning, and nobody’s been able to stop her. And she’s wrong! She’s dead wrong!” Monica considered, then turned to her son. “Kent?”
“I’m with Chelsea. I think it’s worth a try.”
“You don’t feel it might jeopardize your future relationship with Tom?”
“He’s just one of the three. I’ve got to consider Chelsea and Robby, too.”
“So you want me to do this?”
“Yes, Mom, I do.”
“And you, Robby?”
“We just can’t think of anything else, Mrs. Arens.”
She pressed a hand to her heart, sucked in a pronounced breath, and let her eyelids close for a moment. “Whew!” she exclaimed, opening them. “The thought of it scares me to death. What if it backfires? What if she just gets angrier with him?”
The three kids looked back and forth at one another.
Nobody had an answer. Their faces had gone from hopeful to glum.
“Well, listen, I’ll tell you what.” Monica set her glass down and curled forward. “I’ll do what you ask, with two conditions. First, that I don’t speak to your mother in your house. Any way you cut it, that would be invading her territory, and she’s bound to take offense. And second, that the two of us are alone when I do it. Agreed?”
Robby and Chelsea consulted with their eyes and replied in unison, “Agreed.” Chelsea added, “But will you do it now? Tonight? Because then maybe Dad can move back in over the weekend, if it works. ’Cause, you see, he’s planning to move into an apartment tomorrow, which Mom doesn’t even know yet, I don’t think, but he told us. That’s one of the reasons I’m grounded.”
“You’re grounded?” Monica repeated, trying to keep up with the tale.
“Oh, that’s another whole story, but I got so upset when I found out my dad was going to rent an apartment that I did something pretty stupid, and they found out about it and I got grounded, so I’m supposed to be at home right this minute, and if you don’t come over there and talk to Mom, I’m really going to be in hot water when she gets there and finds out I disobeyed her again.”
Monica touched her forehead. “This is getting to be too much for me. Is your mother at home now?”
“She will be pretty soon ...” Chelsea checked her watch. “Right after six, when conferences are over.” Monica rose. “Then let’s wait until six and go over there, and I can wait out on the street in my car and you two can go inside and ask her to come out and talk to me. How’s that?”
“What about Kent?”
“Kent stays here. We don’t need her spying him hanging around to add insult to injury. If you want to spring him on her, you do that later when I’m not around and she’s gotten used to the idea of taking your dad back.”
“That okay with you, Kent?” Robby asked.
“Sure. We can talk later on the phone.”
Shortly after six, they all went down the steps to the entry and began getting on coats and jackets. Monica opened a side door leading to the garage and said, “I’ll back my car out and follow you two.”
A moment later the power lifter rumbled through the wall, raising the garage door. The three young people stood in the foyer, wanting to reach out to one another, afraid it was too soon, each of them wishing one of the others would do it first.
“Well, good luck,” Kent said.
“Thanks,” Robby said.
“Yeah, thanks,” Chelsea added.
“Mom will do a good job, don’t worry.”
On the other side of the service door the car door slammed and the engine started.
“Well, listen, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
There in the vestibule of this warm house where understanding was at last beginning, they hovered on the brink of caring, their common genes urging them to break the bonds that had kept them apart for too many years already. It flashed through their minds to ask, Would it be okay if I hugged you? but shyness overcame them.
“I wish ...” Kent said, and stopped himself.
“Yeah, I know,” Chelsea said, sharing his thought. “But it’s not too late, is it?”
“Heck no,” Robby said, “it’s not too late. We’re just beginning.”
Then one of them smi
led. And another one smiled. And soon all three were smiling ... then laughing ... and the boys pitched together first, and maybe a few tears threatened their eyes, for they couldn’t have spoken at that moment if their lives had been threatened. They broke apart, and Chelsea and Kent’s hug was more cautious. But it happened, and it healed, and it opened doors to beautiful vistas of future possibilities.
“Good luck,” Kent whispered at Chelsea’s ear just before releasing her.
“Thanks.”
Then he opened the door and stood with his hands in his jeans pockets, the cold air rushing into the house around him, caring little about it or the chill on his skin, watching as his brother and sister got into the car and waved, then led his mother away down the street. He didn’t go back inside until he heard Robby’s light tap on the horn. His own hand remained lifted in farewell long after either Robby or Chelsea could possibly see it.
Eighteen
Claire had agreed to meet Tom in his office at six o’clock, and as she approached he was already locking up.
“So how did your day go?” she asked in her gravelly rasp.
He withdrew his key and turned around. “Sounds like it’s a bad one this time.”
“Just awful.” She touched the hollow of her throat, then wrapped her arms around the stack of conference materials she was carrying.
“Did you put some honey in your tea?”
“Any more and I’ll start buzzing and growing wings.” They walked to the main door, and he hit the clattery metal handle with his hips, letting her precede him into the night. “Not the best day to have to go home and ream out one of the kids.”
“Is that what we’re going to do?” Claire asked. “Ream her out?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to decide how to handle it.”
“Neither have I.” Their footsteps matched as they strode side by side to their cars. They’d faced moments like this before when instinct had failed them and left them searching for the best way to handle their children. Through so many years they’d managed to muddle through and find ways that worked for all four of them.