Sunset Over Misty Lake Page 2

  “Happy to do it. If it keeps even one of them from making a stupid decision on prom night, it’s worth my time.”

  The two left the quiet confines of Joe’s office and joined the noisy throng in the hallway. Jake put a hand on Joe’s shoulder.

  “You sure you’re okay? Mom’s worried about you. She’s asking all of us if we know anything.”

  “Mom’s always worried about something. Not that long ago the tables were turned, and she was sending me to check on you.”

  Jake nodded, grinned, but the concern was still there. “Just be warned. You may get past Mom and the rest of us, but Shauna gets home tomorrow.” He let the thought hang.

  “Tomorrow? I thought she was gone for a week?”

  “It’s been a week.”

  Joe’s forehead creased. “Really? Already?”

  “You’re not going to get away with telling her, ‘I’m fine.’ She’ll see right through you.”

  She had been, for the past several months, Joe thought. He had to agree with Jake. He wouldn’t be able to hold off Shauna much longer. Even with the yoga studio nearly ready to open, her obligations in New York, and her full-throttle wedding planning, she always seemed to find time when something was important to her. He knew he should feel grateful he was important to her, but at the moment, being ignored sounded better.

  “I’m okay. Twins are a lot of work, that’s all. It’ll get easier. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.”

  Before Jake could respond, a chorus of voices carried over the din.

  “Hey, Mr. McCabe.”

  “Welcome back.”

  “Remember, you promised new pictures of the twins.”

  Joe smiled and lifted his hand to acknowledge the group of girls—all of them decked out in matching track team sweatshirts—as they passed.

  “Must be nice to have a fan club,” Jake teased as they started to walk.

  “They’re probably just glad to be rid of Herb Withers.”

  Jake stopped, a look of horror on his face. “Withers? Not the same Mr. Withers that taught us science? The one who was probably here when Dad was in high school?”

  “He wasn’t here quite that long ago, but yes, that Mr. Withers.”

  “He still teaches? Why?”

  Joe shrugged. “Not often, but he subs once in a while. No one else wanted a two-week sub position that fell during the pig dissection unit in biology and the sludge unit in chemistry. I figure he’s done them both so many times he could do them in his sleep. I’m sure he didn’t so much as glance at my lesson plans.”

  Jake shuddered. “Sludge test. Thanks. You’ve just guaranteed nightmares for tonight. I’m guessing something to the effect of: It’s the last day of school, I haven’t started my sludge project because I haven’t been to chemistry class all year, and now it’s due. If I don’t get an A, I’ll fail chemistry. I can’t find the classroom; obviously, since I haven’t been there all year. I can’t remember my locker combination, so I can’t check my schedule. The bell keeps ringing and ringing. Pretty soon everyone comes out of the classrooms, cheering because the school year is over. I’m standing there still trying to figure out how to open my locker. Oh, and I’m sure I’m naked.”

  “Man, you’re weird.” Joe shook his head at his brother.

  “You can’t tell me you don’t have nightmares about high school. Everyone does.” Jake paused. “Don’t they?”

  “Sometimes, but they’re not about science. I aced science. They’re about Mrs. Addington’s poetry class. Every day in there was a nightmare.”

  “Quick. How many syllables in a Haiku?” Jake chuckled, then jerked to look over his shoulder. “Wait. She’s not still around too, is she?”

  “No. You’re safe.”

  They were at Joe’s classroom. As his students filed into the room, nearly all of them greeted their teacher. Joe elbowed Jake as two boys froze in their tracks, staring at the sheriff from a healthy distance before both putting their heads down and hurrying past.

  “Two of the guys you got to know last winter.”

  “Yeah,” Jake answered as he followed the boys with his eyes. “Not bad kids, just bad choices.”

  “I have them both in AP Chem later this afternoon. Good students. Apologized to me—to all their teachers—after the dust settled. I’ll admit, it took a while for me to get past it being that Shauna was involved, was in danger. First time I’ve ever hoped I could fail a student.”

  Jake raised a brow.

  “Hey, I’m not proud of it, just being honest.”

  Another bell rang.

  “Gotta run. Thanks again for stopping by.”

  “Let me know if you need anything.”

  Joe nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Oh, and Joe?”

  When Joe looked back, Jake smirked. “There once was a teacher named Joe…” he singsonged as he backed down the hall. “Sweet dreams.”

  As he headed across town after school, Joe mentally prepared himself for the unavoidable small talk he knew was in his very near future. His mother would have a full report on Dylan’s activities as well as a litany of questions about how things were going with the twins. Given he’d moved past anxious and was rapidly closing in on panic worrying about how the day had gone for Karen, he was itching to get home. But then he pulled into his parents’ driveway, spotted Anna and Dylan side-by-side and elbow deep in the soil of an overflowing pot, both grinning and looking as though there was no place they’d rather be.

  Joe sat in the car for a moment and watched them. Dylan used a small blue shovel to scoop dirt from a bag into the planter. More ended up on the sidewalk than in the pot, but Dylan wasn’t deterred. With Anna’s encouragement, he went back for more with almost exactly the same result. Anna put her hand over Dylan’s, and they reached into the bag together. Steadier now, they succeeded in dumping nearly the entire shovel’s worth of dirt in the planter. Anna threw her arms up in the air and cheered. Dylan copied her, giggling as he did so.

  Joe was lucky. He hoped he’d never forget how lucky, no matter the circumstances. He had healthy children, a job he loved, siblings and their spouses willing, he knew, to do anything for him, and parents who had taught them all what it means to be a family and who kept on teaching. Lucky didn’t seem strong enough a word.

  When Joe climbed from the car and closed the door behind him, Dylan turned.

  “Daddy!”

  The toddler streaked across the yard and threw himself at Joe’s legs. Joe hoisted him high into the air and spun, much to Dylan’s delight.

  “Looks like you’ve been busy,” Joe said as he lowered Dylan and crossed the yard to Anna.

  “We’ve been very busy, haven’t we, Dylan?”

  “Kind of early for flowers. It’s still April,” Joe said as he set down Dylan and leaned over to kiss his mother’s cheek.

  Anna’s hand, clad in a muddy yellow gardening glove, flew to her cheek.

  “Oh! What was that for?”

  “Just a thank you for being the best mom in the world.”

  Anna’s eyes grew curious, but Joe watched as she decided to just accept the thank you and keep her questions to herself. For the time being, at least.

  “Well, thank you. And we’re not planting, we’re getting ready for planting. It’s such a nice day, we decided we needed to get outside after Dylan’s nap, and this seemed like a good activity.” Anna waved a hand at the neat row of terra-cotta pots lining the sidewalk. “Planting will need to wait a few more weeks. Supposed to freeze overnight later this week.”

  “Hard to believe when we get a day like this.”

  The sky was a pretty, robin’s egg blue with just a few wispy white clouds floating happily by. The sun had warmed the air enough that Joe spotted a hint of sweat on his mother’s forehead and an abundance of it beneath his son’s baseball cap.

  “That’s for certain, but we know better than to be fooled by a warm day, don’t we, Dylan?”

  “Gamma!” Dylan chirped
in reply.

  “He was a perfect angel today. He ate his lunch, he took a nap, and he used the potty like a big boy.”

  Joe turned to look at Dylan. “He did? He’s been having accidents at home the past couple of weeks. I can’t figure it out. He was doing so well.”

  Anna looked like she wanted to say something but bit her lip. “Well, today was a good day. How are Julia and Evan? Did you check in with Karen today? I hope she had a good day. Samantha planned to stop by for a while.”

  “Just a couple of texts. She said she was doing fine.” Joe puffed out a breath. “I hope that’s the case.”

  “What is it, Joe? What’s bothering you?”

  “Nothing. Nothing’s bothering me.”

  “Joe.”

  He knew that tone. He should have known his mother would see right through him.

  Anna glanced at Dylan, digging in one of the pots with his blue shovel and muttering something only he could understand. She waved Joe to the front step and sat, patting the spot next to her.

  “Joe,” Anna repeated and with one word, told Joe loud and clear that he had her undivided attention. And that she wasn’t going to accept ‘nothing’ as an answer.

  Taking a deep breath and telling himself it wasn’t really lying if he didn’t know the full answer himself, he said, “Just tired. You wouldn’t believe how much work twins are.”

  Anna tilted her head and smiled.

  “I guess you would. How did you do it? You already had Jake and me when Frank and Riley came along.”

  “Sometimes it’s hard to remember what those first few weeks, months, were like. I think I’ve blocked some of it from my memory. It was such an adjustment going from two to four in the blink of an eye. I thought I was prepared.” She chuckled. “I wasn’t. I was always tired, always second-guessing myself, and probably always crabby, though no one would dare tell me that for fear of getting their head bitten off. I can tell you that, though it doesn’t seem like it now, it does get easier. You find a rhythm, so do the babies. If it seems like it’s taking longer than it did with Dylan, it is. Times two, at least. You have to be patient. Even though they’re twins, each is his or her own person with different likes and dislikes. Once you all figure each other out, it will get easier. And the bonus? When you near that turning point, it will go quicker than it did with Dylan. They have each other, and they have Dylan, and that will give you and Karen a bit of a break. You’ll be surprised how much Julia and Evan will entertain and comfort one another. That’s something you didn’t have with Dylan.”

  Joe nodded absently. “They kind of already do that. Comfort each other, I mean. We moved them to the same crib, and they seemed to sleep so much better.”

  Anna patted Joe’s knee. “See? You’re already figuring things out. Patience, Joe. Patience with the babies, with yourself, and with Karen. She needs you to be patient with everything that she’s going through.”

  Joe’s eyes widened. His mother knew something? “Going through? What do you mean, going through?”

  His voice was like a whip; he heard it and knew Anna did too. She blinked and tilted her head a bit, studying him, but didn’t comment.

  “It’s not easy being a mother. It’s not easy being a father either, I know that, but at first, when they’re so tiny, there’s extra pressure on the mother. Things have changed, rightly so, and men are much more involved with caring for children than was the case years ago, but there’s still something inside a mother that tells her she’s ultimately the one responsible for that tiny life. Or lives. As helpless and as frustrated and as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, Karen’s feeling it more so. Be there for her, do what you can, but understand that no matter how much you help, there will be times she feels as if it’s all too much, as if she’s somehow failing. She’s not. Neither are you. There aren’t two people in this world who could ever love those children more than you and Karen. And right now, that’s the most important thing. The rest will fall into place.”

  “I know it hasn’t been that long, they’re only a little over a month old and have only been home for a couple of weeks, but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier.”

  “You just told me you figured out putting them in the same crib helps. You’ll figure out more every day. One of the greatest gifts we’ve been given, I think, is the ability to forget the bad. Or at least a lot of the bad. I’d be willing to bet you felt just as helpless right after Dylan was born, but you’ve forgotten those feelings because they’ve been replaced by all the good ones that have come since.

  “A woman forgets the worst of the labor pains, that’s why she does it all again. And parents forget the worst days, that’s why they want to do it all again…the worst days and nights when it seems as though you can’t do a thing right or when the kids are sick and you’re helpless to ease their pain; when the washer overflows, the kids take crayons to the wall, and there’s no dinner so they get a bowl of cereal…again; when they’re older and it seems all they do is fight; when they’re older still and it’s long past curfew. Those memories fade and become more a feather in your cap than anything—because you got through and no one’s any worse for wear—and as they fade, the memories of the good days become clearer. Better days are ahead, Joe, but don’t discount these days because for as much as you want it all to be easier, one day you’ll long for just one more chance to hold them when they’re this little.”

  Joe reached out and hugged his mother.

  “Thank you, Mom, I needed to hear that.”

  Joe felt his mother’s head nodding against his shoulder and her hand rubbing circles on his back.

  “I hope it helps, if even just a little.”

  Joe eased back to look Anna in the eye. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? I know this isn’t the first clue you’ve gotten that things haven’t exactly been easy.”

  Now Anna smiled and squeezed Joe’s shoulder. “Oh, honey, you needed to be ready to hear it. Had I said something earlier, it would have been nothing but butting in. I promised myself when Dylan was born, I wouldn’t do that with any of my children and their children. It hasn’t always been easy,” she said with a wink, “but thus far, I’ve managed. I’m not an expert, not by a long stretch, but I’m here whenever you need me.”

  With emotion setting fire to the back of his throat, Joe didn’t speak, just hugged his mother again. No, lucky wasn’t nearly a strong enough word.

  The house was quiet when Joe walked in the door that evening. Eerily quiet. He’d expected chaos. So many times throughout his day, he’d pictured Karen trying to feed, change, and comfort two screaming babies. As he peeked into the twins’ bedroom and found them both asleep, then continued down the hall to find Karen in their bedroom folding laundry, he was overcome with guilt. He didn’t give his wife nearly enough credit.

  “Mommy!” Dylan ran to Karen, and she got a greeting as exuberant as Joe’d gotten a short time ago.

  Karen wrapped him in a hug. “I missed you today,” she said as she planted a kiss on his head. “What did you and Grandma do?”

  Dylan held up his hands, still a little dirty, and wiggled them. “Dirt!” he shouted. “Dirt, dirt, dirt.” He turned it into a riotous song, complete with a hip-wiggling dance.

  “Shhh.” Karen attempted to quiet Dylan even as she laughed at his antics. “The babies are sleeping.”

  Dylan continued his dance, but changed the wording to ‘babies, babies, babies,’ at an only slightly lower volume.

  “Did your mom feed him candy all day?”

  “I don’t think so. They may have worked on their dance moves, though.” Joe wrapped an arm around Karen and kissed her cheek. “How was your day?”

  “Pretty good. Sam was here for a couple of hours, so I snuck in a shower and a load of laundry. I’m just getting around to folding it, but I thought washed and dried in the same day was an accomplishment. Sam brought dinner for tonight and for the foreseeable future. I may never cook again with everything people have been lea
ving here.”

  “As much as I love your cooking, I’ll take it.”

  Joe helped fold the last few tiny onesies then asked again, “It was really okay? You’re not just saying that?”

  “It was really okay. Granted, Dylan wasn’t here most of the day and Sam was, but still, I think I did pretty well. I guess I’m not completely helpless.”

  “Helpless? Are you kidding? You’re Superwoman. I could never do what you do.”

  “You could. You will.”

  Joe’s stomach flipped. He hadn’t yet been alone with all three kids. Sure, there’d been times when Karen had been napping or in the shower, but never out of the house. Never where he couldn’t call her to the rescue.

  “I will? When?” He swallowed hard. “Right now?”

  “No, not right now.” She shook her head, but didn’t look at him, staring instead at something far away that only she could see. “One day soon, though.”

  When she didn’t offer any more, Joe debated with himself. He understood the time would come when she’d head to the grocery store or the hair salon or some other place and leave the kids in his care, but he was fairly certain that wasn’t what Karen was talking about. Press her for more details? Start a conversation—a real conversation—about what was going on between them? Or let it go, for the time being? It was her first day alone with the kids, after all.

  As much as he tried to tell himself he was being crazy, he couldn’t get the idea out of his head that she was alluding to leaving him. Secretly, he’d been afraid of that for months. He’d tried to talk to her, to get her to open up about what was bothering her, but she’d brushed aside his worries every time. He’d be alone with the kids, she’d be alone with the kids, they’d never be together with the kids. Never be a family.

  He couldn’t wait any longer.

  “Karen, I think we need to talk. Something’s bothering you, something’s been bothering you for a long time, and you need to tell me what it is. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”