Three #4
I nodded and turned to Tatum. “And you,” I said, smiling at her. “I know you have an Instagram account that you and your mother used to maintain together, that now you do alone. But you wouldn’t have been able to do that ever again.”
They were all surprised.
“It’s hard to become a whole new person.”
I talked until the food came, informed them that some people, when there was no more threat, they could leave WITSEC, but with something like a cartel, which their mother was testifying against, the threat was endless, because a new head would always take over. It was like a hydra.
“I know what that is,” Tatum told me. “And not from Avengers . I know from mythology, because we’ve been reading all the Greek myths. We’re going to the Celtic ones after fall break.”
I smiled at her.
“I miss Mom,” Griff said, choking on a sob.
I put an arm around him, holding him tight, letting him wipe blood, tears, and snot all over the front of my T-shirt.
Tatum’s eyes were welling, and Darwin was focused on the table.
“Listen to me,” I said, leaning forward, whispering roughly, “you’re all gonna be okay, you understand? All of you are fuckin’ amazing.”
Griff lifted his head to meet my gaze, and I met his and then Darwin’s, and finally Tatum’s.
“Sorry about the swearing, but listen, your mom’s been gone almost two years, and you’re all holding it together, and that’s unheard of. You’re all phenomenal.”
Darwin gave me a wobbly, watery smile.
“Dad kind of checked out, but so did I,” Griff confessed, looking at me and then at his sister and brother. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll be better.”
“Being able to even say Mom again will help,” Darwin expressed. “I always think of saying stupid stuff like, Oh, Mom really loves avocados , but I don’t say it because I’m afraid I’ll hurt your feelings,” he directed to Griff, “or make Tatum cry.”
“I won’t cry,” she promised. “I mean, I might not mean to cry,” she amended. “But if I do, it’s because I miss her, not because you hurt my feelings.”
“But is it okay to remind each other all the time that we miss her?” Griff asked the table. “Or should we do it Dad’s way and pretend she’s dead?”
About to chime in, I thought better of it. They should talk it out themselves.
“I don’t think pretending she’s dead is good,” Tatum told her brothers. “I think maybe it’s like Nash said. She could’ve been thinking about us too.”
Darwin nodded.
“We’re never gonna know,” Griff offered. “So maybe thinking the best of her, not the worst like we have been, like she just didn’t want us, would be better.”
All eyes on me.
“I agree that would be better. I try to always do that. Give people the benefit of the doubt. It’s like when somebody yells at you for no reason, maybe try and think that someone they love is sick or they lost their dog.
You don’t know, and until you do, how can you be mad at them?
At the same time, you shouldn’t let people take things out on you. ”
They all remained quiet.
“But I’m thinking I wanna do two things, all right?”
They were listening and waiting.
“First, from now on, you’re all gonna start leaning on each other.”
Griff gave me a head tip of agreement, Tatum smiled, and Darwin said okay.
“And second, has anyone suggested any kind of therapy to any of you?”
They exchanged glances.
“Yes? No?”
“Let me think…” Tatum said softly.
“My homeroom teacher,” Griff began, “my guidance counselor, my human geography teacher, my?—”
“Your what?”
“Human geography,” he repeated, like I should know what that was.
“It’s like social studies,” Darwin explained.
I kept feeling older and older.
“My science teacher,” Griff went on.
“Mrs. Hardin remains very concerned about my mental and emotional health,” Darwin chimed in. “She’s my main teacher, and then there’s Mrs. Golden, my advisor, Mr. Cho, my principal, Mr. Naylor, my?—”
“The FBI people who talked to Daddy said we should see a therapist so we wouldn’t be all fucked up,” Tatum blurted.
We all turned to her.
“I don’t use that word,” she informed me, hand over her heart. “But I have to recount what was said exactly.”
“For posterity and authenticity,” Darwin seconded. “I get it.”
“That’s right,” she praised him.
“This is all helpful information, but what did your father say on the subject?” I asked, because that was the relevant part.
“He said he’ll find someone for us to talk to, but he hasn’t had time,” Griff explained. “He’s been crazy busy, and the last time I asked about it, he got kinda mad and told me he’d do it as soon as he could.”
It was vital they got to work on feeling better, and I felt a surge of anger toward Luke Duchesne.
“Okay, then, so what I’m hearing is that he was good with the idea of therapy. Is that what you all understood to be the case?”
Nodding all around.
“Great,” I said, happy with that, with the ability to move forward. “Then you’re all gonna go see a therapist. It will help to talk to someone, especially you, Griff, because I understand you’re struggling with insomnia.”
Quiet, thoughtful people, all studying me. It was weird but nice too.
“Is it a deal?”
“Do we have to lie down on a couch and talk about our childhoods?” Tatum wanted to know, scowling at me.
“You’re still in your childhood,” I reminded her.
“Are you gonna take us?” Griff asked me.
“I will.”
“And stay with us?”
He seemed very concerned about me potentially leaving, and I understood why. Big trigger for him, and all of them, because of their mother. “Of course,” I promised.
“Okay,” Tatum agreed. “If you take me, I’ll go.”
“Me too,” Darwin seconded.
“All right,” Griff replied, sighing deeply.
“Excellent,” I said, pulling my phone so I could text Benji to get me a name. As I was doing that, Griff said my name so softly, I almost didn’t hear him. But when I looked at him, his eyes were locked on my face. The intensity of his gaze was surprising.
After a moment of us staring at each other, he finally asked, “What if somebody hurts you?” It troubled me how shaky his voice sounded.
“Nobody’s gonna hurt me,” I assured him. “A lot scarier people than whoever lives in this town have tried, and I’m still here.”
“Plus, you have to remember, he’s strapped,” Tatum said flatly.
Immediately, she had all our attention.
“What?” she asked, clearly unperturbed.
“Strapped?” Griff repeated. “You have got to stop watching those crime shows.”
“Yeah, but they always get the bad guy.”
“They do,” I agreed, then smiled at Griff. “And I am strapped.”
“Really?” He sounded so very pained. “You shouldn’t encourage her.”
But I couldn’t help myself.