36. Jazz Hands
THIRTY-SIX
JAZZ HANDS
? Fear of Water - Noah Kahan
CLIO
Friday night blurs into the early hours of Saturday morning with no sleep to be found.
The nurses confirm the worst, and Lexi is taken back for a D&C procedure.
Hayden is a wreck, and who can blame him?
He just got the worst news of his life and watched his first love being wheeled away on a hospital bed.
Noah returns from the cafeteria with coffee and a bagel, and my stomach roils at the suggestion of food. He retakes his spot next to me, rubbing his palm up and down my back as I sip my coffee. He’s barely left my side all night, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been there.
“You should eat,” I tell Hayden. “It won’t do you any good to starve yourself.”
I’m a hypocrite, but if it were my child, I’d want to know someone was taking care of them. He takes the paper bag from my hand and peels it open.
“Have you talked to your parents?” I ask.
He takes a large bite and swallows. “They’ll be here soon.”
“You can go home and get some rest. Lexi would understand.”
“No. I want to stay. I need to stay.”
There’s solace to be found in the knowledge that Lexi’s first love is someone gentle and attentive.
They still have a lot of growing up to do, and a lot can change over time, but I would be proud to someday call Hayden my son-in-law.
He’s been there for her every step of the way, and I can’t ask for much more than that.
The automatic doors open, drawing my attention to an imposing figure in a police uniform.
“Hayden,” he says, voice stern and unwavering.
He’s about average height with a stocky build. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s former military based on the haircut alone. His dark eyes are cold and menacing. One thing’s for sure: Hayden looks nothing like his dad.
Hayden stands, spine ramrod straight. “Hi, Dad. Mom.”
That’s when I notice the woman at his side—Karen Parker in her powder blue pantsuit, her blonde hair pulled into a low bun. Neither of them looks particularly sympathetic given the circumstances, and something about that doesn’t sit right with me.
Mustering all the energy I have left in my body, I stand. “Mr. and Mrs. Parker. I’m Clio Marsden, Lexi’s Mom.”
“We know who you are,” Karen sneers.
My fist tightens around my coffee cup as her haughty gaze cuts to Noah. “Noah Weston. Figures you’d be involved in this mess somehow.”
Noah takes up residence at my side, resting his hand on my hip. “Karen. Always a pleasure.
“Time to go home, Hayden,” Mr. Parker says.
Hayden tenses at my side. “No. I can’t leave. Lexi’s still in surgery.”
Mr. Parker’s jaw ticks as he glares at Hayden. I’ve seen an expression like that before—on my stepfather right before he let his fists fly. “Not my problem. That girl is nothing but trouble.”
The words connect like a slap to the face, and I bristle as Noah shoves between Hayden and his dad like he’s readying for a fight. I’ve never thought of Noah as a violent man, but there’s a first time for everything. “Don’t you dare fucking talk about my stepdaughter that way.”
Recognition flickers across Noah’s features, but he doesn’t back down. The claim feels almost tangible, like a fist squeezing my heart.
Noah continues to speak like he didn’t just throw me into a tailspin. “Have a little fucking compassion. That girl and your son just lost their baby.”
Mr. Parker hooks his thumbs into his utility belt and squares his shoulders, but Noah still has a few inches on him, and he doesn’t seem at all fazed by the man’s attempts. “That baby should never have existed in the first place. They’re better off.”
Karen, ever the prim and proper businesswoman, folds her hands in front of her and says, “Let it go, Steve. These people don’t have a lick of sense between them. Hayden, honey. It’s time to go.”
Silence stretches for a long moment before she finally lets out an exasperated sigh as though this whole thing is just a big inconvenience. “I am sorry for your loss, Hayden, but everything happens for a reason. All we can do now is move forward and make better choices for the future.”
I’m struck by the callousness of her performative sympathy, like their pain is inconsequential in comparison to their mistake.
“I’m staying.” Hayden’s words hold a finality to them that even I hadn’t expected.
“Like hell you are,” Steve barks. “You’ll get your ass in the truck right now if you know what’s good for you.”
Hayden goes white as a sheet, and his posture deflates.
A nagging sense of unease prickles beneath my skin.
As a mandated reporter and someone who grew up in an abusive household, I’m keenly aware of the warning signs of abuse.
Still, I have to tread lightly. Even if I had evidence to back up my suspicions, Steve Parker is a cop, and they protect their own.
If I’m wrong, I could be opening up a whole can of worms for Hayden’s family, and if I’m right, I could be putting him in more danger.
“Hayden will be staying with us.” Noah crosses his arms over his chest, his tone brooking no argument. “I’ll drop him off at home when Lexi is discharged.”
“You have no right to make decisions for us,” Karen says in a shrill voice that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I think you’ve done enough to damage our family’s reputation as it is.”
I can’t help the laugh that comes out of me. “Your reputation as a shrew will be just fine, Karen.”
Before she can get another word in, Steve’s radio crackles to life and a muffled voice says something about a 10-33.
“I have to go.” He points a stern finger at Hayden. “This isn’t over, son.”
Hayden lowers his chin to stare at the floor between them. “Yes, sir.”
His parents exit through the sliding doors, and I reach for Hayden’s hand, uncertainty warring with my instinctual need to comfort and protect him. “Are you ok?”
He forces a wry smile. “I’m fine. Just worried about Lexi.”
“We’re here for you, you know? If you need anything. Anything at all.” If he understands my meaning and the undercurrent of concern, he doesn’t let on.
“Thank you, Miss Marsden.”
“Call me Clio. We’re family now.” Loss has a terrible way of bonding people together. Whatever happens after this, Hayden will always have a place in my home.
It’s hard to believe a month has passed since Lexi was discharged from the hospital, but time loses meaning when healing becomes the timekeeper.
The procedure was successful without any complications, and she was able to come home that same day. Hayden stayed for dinner and basically never left. I’m exaggerating. He’s still going about his normal routine, but he takes every opportunity he can to check on Lexi and make sure she’s doing ok.
Thankfully, we haven’t heard a peep from Karen or Steve. I want to believe they did some soul-searching and gained perspective, but I know better. They’re the kind of people who let shit simmer beneath the surface until they’re ready to strike.
The school administrators were understanding about Lexi’s situation, and they offered to let her skip finals if she came back for summer school, but my girl wasn’t having it. She completed all of her work and passed every exam with flying colors despite the simmering grief.
The evenings are the hardest, when all is quiet, and she has time to let her mind wander.
I’m just grateful she doesn’t battle the demons in her sleep, too.
That particular affliction is only mine to bear.
Along with the nightmares about Penny and Rodney, I’ve started reliving the phone call from Noah over and over.
He’s there without fail, soothing me back to sleep.
We might as well erase the walls between our apartments because we’ve spent every night together either in his bed or mine, and I fall deeper every day.
“See you at the town meeting,” I call to Quinn as I step out of the coffee shop into the sweltering summer sun.
It’s the first Saturday since school let out, and Lexi’s coaching the tiny tots soccer league again this year. I support anything that gets her out of the house and out of her head at the same time.
As I make my way toward the park, I spot a penny on the ground.
I pick it up and slip it into the front pocket of my favorite overalls.
I’ve been finding an inordinate amount of them scattered about lately.
It’s almost like Aunt Penny knew we needed her and sent a few extras just in case.
Honestly, it’s getting a bit out of hand.
Cool liquid drips from the coffee cups and onto my legs as I turn onto the side street leading to the park.
Noah is posted up in a lawn chair behind Lexi.
I hand him one of the iced coffees and take the chair next to him, then my gaze flicks to the field, or more accurately, the little boy in a blue jersey waving at me from inside the soccer net.
Running with a soccer ball requires a certain level of coordination and focus that Auggie lacks, so Lexi assigned him the goaltender role, which he was more than happy to accept.
I take a long sip of my iced chai and wave back. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s gotten really good at jazz hands, and… whatever that is.”
I follow his line of sight to where Auggie’s doing some kind of dance, flailing his limbs like one of those inflatable tube men you see outside of car dealerships.
I throw my head back laughing. “Lean in to the whimsy.”
He groans. “You and your whimsy.”
“You love it.”
His eyes lock on mine, and my smile falters for one very long, uncomfortable second.
Why the hell did I drop the L word? I look away, internally cursing my stupidity.
The whistle blows, and kids dart off every which way, a blur of black and white passing between them.
Auggie shuffles this way and that, watching the action from the net.
“Get ready, Auggie,” Lexi shouts.