32. Frederick
32
FREDERICK
“ O kay, now you have to move the hook here,” Sigourney says, patiently showing me the next step in the process. We’re making crochet potholders.
“Like this?”
“Yes.” Sigourney gives me a thumbs up. “You’re getting the hang of it, Papa Fred.”
The kids have given me the nickname, and Rochelle is now known by the matching moniker, Mama Rochelle. It feels strange, having these kids look up to me like this. But I love that they trust me enough to welcome me into their lives with open arms.
The last two months have been a whirlwind of ferrying the kids to school activities, taking Rochelle on dates, helping with homework, and teaming up with Walken to prank the girls.
“We’re home.” Rochelle and Walken walk through the apartment door now, returning from a tutoring session.
“And we have news!” Walken says, bouncing over to the couch. Duplex, annoyed by the noise, flees from his spot under the coffee table into the bedroom.
“This was his last official tutoring session. He’s graduating from the program,” Rochelle announces. Walken’s grin grows bigger.
“Congratulations, bro!” Sigourney abandons our crochet project to give her brother a tight hug, patting him on the back.
“His tutor has recommended that he try this after-school young writer’s program,” Rochelle says, hanging her handbag up. “We are going to sign him up tomorrow.”
“That’s fantastic,” I tell Walken, ruffling his dirty blonde head. “You’re going to be the next Stephen King.”
“Yeah!” Walken pumps his fist, running in circles and dancing in joy.
“And Sigourney’s monthly dance exhibit is coming up,” Rochelle adds, heading into the kitchen to check on the chicken.
“Sounds like we’ve got a couple of rock stars on our hands,” I say. “Your mom will be so excited to see you soon.”
“Yeah, she just finished her program, didn’t she?” Sigourney asks.
“She finishes the eight-week program tomorrow,” Rochelle explains. “Now both of you need to clean up, and get ready for dinner.”
The kids rush off to the bathroom to wash up, and I go into the kitchen to set the table.
“Caroline left Terrance,” she says, handing me some utensils. “And Mimi, too, for that matter.”
“She’s very much turned her life around since that night,” I remark, placing the silverware next to the plates.
“I think she’s on the right path, too,” Rochelle adds. “She can’t go back there. The state said that Terrance isn’t allowed to be anywhere near the kids. Plus, Mimi sent some nasty, threatening texts to Caroline, so she’s taken out a restraining order against her.”
“That’s awful. Can the kids still see her?”
“She’s allowed to see them, but she’s not made any effort to reach out to me about it,” Rochelle says.
“I think maybe it’s for the best, though. You know Mimi isn’t the most stable influence. Sigourney and Walken are doing great here. Their grades are better than ever, and they have all the after-school activities now.”
“You’re right.” Rochelle takes the chicken out of the oven. “And I think the kids have the resources to make the transition to being full-time with their mom again well. They’re excited about the party tomorrow.”
“Her coming home party?”
“Yep. Everything is ready for it. I picked up the cake from the bakery this morning. It’s in the fridge.”
“I’m so proud of Caroline,” I say just as the kids come back into the room. “Your mom is doing so well,” I add for their benefit.
“Yeah. I’m sad we won’t live with Mama Rochelle anymore, but Mom said that she found a place, and it has three bedrooms. And she said I could have my own room!” Walken exclaims.
“Mom said that she can make the living room area into a third bedroom, and there’s enough space in the front of the apartment to have our couch,” Sigourney clarifies. “We’ve never had our own rooms before, though.”
“You were so nice to get her a job at the family bank,” Rochelle says. “Things are going to be different for Caroline, I can feel it.”
“This chicken looks good,” Walken says, taking a bite. “I’m going to miss your cooking, Mama Rochelle.”
“Papa Fred, you and me need to finish making the potholders before tomorrow, too,” Sigourney adds. “I want to use them in our new house.”
We continue to chat about all the preparations for the party tomorrow, as well as about school and work. When dinner is over, the four of us clean up and watch a movie together before bed.
Rochelle and I tuck the kids in, and she leaves to brush her teeth. I linger, making an excuse that I want to say a private goodbye before they leave with their mom tomorrow.
“Can I show you two something?” I ask. The kids nod, sitting up so they can see what I have. “Promise me you won’t say anything to Mama Rochelle, okay?” I pull out the box from my pocket.
They both gasp, eyes lighting up.
“Oh my gosh, Papa Fred! It’s going to be the best surprise,” Sigourney says, putting her hands on her cheeks.
“Are you giving it to her soon?” Walken asks.
“Tomorrow, I think. After the party, when it’s just the two of us. I don’t want to overshadow your mom. Tomorrow is her day to be celebrated.”
The kids both mime zipping their lips, and I ruffle their hair before leaving the room to get ready for bed myself.
The next day, the party starts at one, as soon as Caroline arrives at Rochelle’s apartment.
“Caroline, you look amazing!” Rochelle hugs her tightly. “You look so happy and healthy.”
“The doctors said I was using alcohol to cope with my unhappiness. Now that I’m away from Terrance, I feel better, too,” Caroline admits quietly. “I feel so much safer.”
“I’m so glad,” Rochelle says, patting her on the back.
“Thank you for the job with your family’s company,” Caroline adds, reaching out to shake my hand.
“I’m glad I was able to help you find a way to get on your feet,” I tell her. “This is the beginning of a new era.”
The children come up to their mother, grab her to give her hugs, and begin to show off the things they’ve been doing since she left for her treatment program.
There’s only a handful of people here, a few close friends of Caroline, a mutual friend of Rochelle and Caroline’s from Rochelle’s work, and the kid’s aunt who flew in from Boston.
“So, tell us where you’re living now?” Caroline’s sister Avery asks. “Did you find a new place?”
“Yes!” Caroline grins, pulling up her phone to show us pictures of the apartment. “It’s still in Harlem, just a few blocks from here, so the kids can still see Rochelle whenever they want. I owe you a lot, Rochelle, for looking after them.”
“I’m glad I could do it,” Rochelle says. “You deserved a second chance.”
“I’m proud of you, Mama,” Sigourney says, coming up to hug her mother from the side. Caroline kisses the top of her daughter’s head and squeezes her around the waist.
“I’m proud of you too, baby. You and Walken make me so proud. Miss Rochelle deserves a big thank you for looking out for you two and helping you in school and stuff.”
The kids turn and give Rochelle big hugs, too.
“Thank you for helping me with my reading, Mama Rochelle,” Walken says.
“And thank you for helping me get into dance class,” Sigourney says. “And for letting me join the school play.”
“You didn’t tell me that!” Caroline says, beaming. “You got into Annie ?”
Sigourney ducks her head, blushing, and pats Duplex as a way of hiding her embarrassment. “I’m going to be one of the orphans.” She says it still looking at the cat’s head.
“Which one?” Walken asks.
“Tessie.” Sigourney finally looks up. “The crybaby one.”
Everyone starts talking about seeing her in the show, praising her for being brave enough to try out.
“You truly helped Sigourney come out of her shell,” I tell Rochelle privately as we cut the cake for the party. “She’s always been outspoken, but now she has an outlet for her energy.”
“I’m glad the kids are going but I’m going to miss them, too,” she admits. We bring the cake into the living room and start passing out plates.
“I’d like to give a toast to my sister,” Avery says. “Caroline honestly had some tough stuff thrown at her, but she managed to turn things around and she’s making the best of a fresh start. Here’s to Caroline!”
“Here, here!” we all echo, raising glasses of soda and punch.
The party starts winding down and the kids grab their packed bags and suitcases, bringing them out for us to take down to the waiting cab. We load them up, giving them last-minute hugs and promises to see each other again soon. Rochelle invites Caroline and the kids to come for dinner at the end of the week.
The two of us head back up to the apartment and Rochelle starts cleaning up, but I pull her into the living room.
“I have a question for you,” I tell her, getting down on one knee.
Rochelle gasps.
“I know our relationship has been a whirlwind, but it’s also been some of the best times of my life. I’d like to keep the adventure going with you. Will you marry me, Rochelle Reynolds?”
Her kiss is all the answer I need.