21 Protection, For God’s Sake
Protection, For God’s Sake
When I got up in the morning, Jack had disappeared. I sat up in bed, my head aching slightly, and blinked, trying to make out the note on the nightstand: Dumbass Mike left his phone charger and none of ours work with his phone. I took him to pick it up. I’ll be back in a while .
I shook my head and walked off toward the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I had to look at my tattoo again. It still had plastic wrap over it and it stung, but I liked it, and I liked the way I looked with it.
Walking downstairs in presentable clothes, I noticed the smell of paint immediately. I followed it out to the back porch, where I found Mary sitting on a stool in front of a canvas. She was blocking out a sketch, but I couldn’t really tell of what. She must have just begun.
“Good morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes as I approached.
“Good morning, dear. Did you have breakfast?”
“Nah. I’m not hungry anyway.”
My mouth was cottony, though. Damn alcohol. As Mary mixed her paints, she said, “I woke up feeling inspired.”
“I can see that. What is it?”
“You know, if there’s one thing my years of painting have taught me, it’s never to say what it is. It’s best for every person to just give their opinion when the picture’s done. You want to join me?”
“Me?” I asked, confused.
“Not with this one, obviously. But I have ten blank canvases stretched and ready to go. You did say you liked to paint, right?”
“Well, uh…” I was in a panic. “It’s been a long time since…”
“What did you usually paint with?”
“I really was more into drawing. With charcoal, you know.”
“Oh,” she said. “Charcoal was never my strong point. I could never master the wrist movements, and my work was always too stiff. I like oils. But I’m sure I have some charcoal and paper you can use.”
Before I had time to say no, I found myself sittingin front of a blank sheet of paper with charcoal, a kneaded eraser, and a blending stump. Mary grinned as she asked me, “What are you going to draw? You said you used to do portraits, right? Maybe you can do one of those for me.”
Instantly, Jack’s face came into my head. But I was too ashamed to draw him in front of his mother, so I decided on someone else.
“When it comes out terrible, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I told her.
“It won’t be terrible. And if it is, we just won’t tell anyone.”
As I traced out the first line, I had the sense that I was utterly clueless, but I just kept going, trying to relax. It’s not as if I had anything else to do, anyway.
“Did you ever study art?” Mary asked.
“Just one class. The only thing I remember about it was the teacher freaking out because someone had put on rubber gloves. He said if you wanted to be an artist, you had to get your hands dirty.”
She told me she’d had a teacher who was similar, and then she talked about all the crazy professors she’d had when she was studying in college.
We spent more than an hour together. It had been so long since I’d touched any art materials that I was nervous, and I progressed slowly.
But I did better than I’d thought. There was one eye I had to erase and redraw three or four times, but I was proud of myself.
At least until I turned and saw Mary’s picture, which was perfect, harmonious.
I put down my charcoal and watched her work until I heard two very familiar voices emerging from the living room.
Mike was the first of them to appear. “Mom,” he shouted, “can you please tell your younger son to leave me in peace?”
“What is it now?” she asked.
Jack appeared and said, “This moron told me he’d left his charger behind. Great. I agree to take him back, since he can’t use our chargers because he’s the last person in America who doesn’t have an iPhone, so I take him to some chick’s place, and he breaks into her house.”
“So what?” Mike said. “I needed it. Besides, it was just a moment, and nobody saw us.”
Jack said, “I’m going to tell you this slowly so your tiny brain can process it. Breaking…into…a…house…is…a…crime. C-R-I-M-E.”
“Only if you get caught,” Mike responded.
“Well, enjoy your phone, because that’s the last favor I ever do for you,” Jack hissed, before noticing the two easels and continuing, “What’s this? I didn’t know you worked with charcoal, too, Mom.”
“That isn’t mine,” she said.
“Did you draw that?” Jack asked me. As his mother walked inside, he and Mike stared at me with surprise.
“Is it really that astonishing?” I replied.
“I didn’t know you were an artist,” Mike said. “Is there anything you don’t do well?”
As I shrugged, Jack asked who it was, and I told him it was my nephew, Owen.
Jack asked if he could pose for me some time, too.
Distracted, Mike lit a cigarette, and that reminded me that it had been a long time since I’d seen Jack smoke.
He didn’t say anything, but I could tell that his brother doing it was getting on his nerves a little.
So I tried to take his mind off of it by asking, “What’s the plan for today? ”
“I don’t know about in the afternoon,” he said. “At night, we all have to pretend we’re just crazy about Dad while we wish him a happy birthday.”
“It’s amazing how much love there is in this household,” I said.
“Trust me,” Mike responded. “You don’t know him.
” Jack nodded in agreement. Looking through the window, I saw Agnes wander into the kitchen looking like she hadn’t slept a wink.
The hangover, I guess. My phone rang. Jack grabbed it off the table and handed it to me.
It was Spencer. I was always happy to talk to him.
“Hey, little sister, how are things?” he asked.
“Good. How about with you? Is something up?”
“Well, I don’t know if I’d say anything was up exactly, it’s just…
Mom’s here with me, and she’s a little nervous, or excited, or whatever you want to call it.
Because Shannon told us you’re not with that loser Monty anymore and that you really are with Jack what’s-his-name, and you’re supposedly spending the a few days with his family… ”
“The traitor.”
“And Mom’s freaking out because you didn’t tell us. She wants to know why you told Shannon and not her. She says hanging out with his family is serious, and…”
I guess my mother was getting bored with his attempts to be diplomatic, because I could hear a scuffle through the receiver before she yelled, “Jennifer Michelle!”
“Mom!” I felt myself turning red as Jack heard her and mouthed the word Mushu . Damn him and damn that stupid name.
“I can’t believe you would go to your boyfriend’s parents’ house and not even tell me. I hope you’re using protection, for the love of God! I know you and I never had the talk , and it’s probably too late now, but…”
“MOM!”
“You really need to know that proper birth control can save you all sorts of headaches. I’m not trying to say anything bad about you children, but it hasn’t been easy…
Now this week, I want a phone call and I want to know each and every detail of this new relationship of yours.
I certainly hope they’re taking good care of you. ”
“With Jack’s mom here, I feel right at home,” I said.
“Of course you do. There are things all mothers understand. Now I’ve got to go. But you’d better call me or I’m going to get mad. Love you! Kisses, honey.”
“Kisses to you, too, Mom,” I said. When I hung up, I saw both brothers looking at me.
Mike said, “Kisses to you, too, Mom,” and I threw a cushion at his face.
He blocked it with the hand that wasn’t holding his cigarette.
When Jack copied him, I told them they were both a couple of children, and hearing their laughter behind me, I got up and walked to the kitchen.
Agnes was sitting at the island looking on the verge of death.
“Good morning?” I said. “Or maybe not so good?”
“Every time I hear one of my grandsons laughing, I tell myself I should never have reproduced,” she said. “So that tells you about the morning I’m having.”
I filled a glass with orange juice and took it over to her. She muttered a thanks and took a tiny sip.
“When I was your age,” she told me, “I could drink the contents of an entire liquor store and be fresh as a daisy the next day.”
“Time comes for all of us,” I responded.
Mr. Ross walked in just then, polishing his expensive glasses with his shirttail. He actually looked nice, and it was hard to believe he was the same man who had basically thrown me out of his house a few weeks before.
“Good morning, Mr. Ross. Happy birthday,” I said.
“Thank you, Jenna.” He squeezed my shoulder. “Mother, did you drink last night? You know at your age you shouldn’t…”
“At my age, I don’t need anyone telling me what to do. Just leave me here to suffer with my orange juice in peace.”
I chuckled, but stopped as soon as I saw Mr. Ross looking at me.
“Jenna,” he suggested, “how about you and I have a little talk.” I could tell from his tone that saying no wasn’t an option.
“Of course,” I said.
As I followed him out, I saw Jack arguing with his brother through the window.
They didn’t notice us passing by. My nerves frayed even further when I saw Mr. Ross start to walk up the stairs, but I had to follow him, I thought.
He walked all the way to the room with the piano, where he pointed to one of the black leather chairs with a kindly expression that still weirded me out, saying, “Please.”
He walked over to the piano, leaned against it, and tipped his head to one side. “What do you think of the house?” he said.
“It’s beautiful. And very homey. I don’t know if that’s funny to say.”
“Not at all. I feel the same way as you. I was thirty when I bought this place. I always wanted some place on the lake to get away to. The city’s nice and all, but it can start to weigh on you.
But that’s beside the point. What I wanted to say was…
I don’t think I behaved as I should have when you and I met, Jenna. ”
Oh. So that was it.