Chapter 22
Kyle slowed then parked across the street like he had last time.
Judged—hard—the beat-up car that Minnie refused to part with.
Shook his head. The woman was weird, refusing such a gift.
Although, now he thought about it, it had been Minnie’s refusal, not Gen’s.
Maybe Gen would like a new car and just hadn’t wanted to contradict her mother.
Hmm. A man could work with that.
He moved across the street, waving at Marco who exited his house and came across looking ready for a chat.
Okay, so the houses were flimsy, and the last few times he’d noticed holes in the wall and cracked windows and no AC, but he couldn’t deny the fact the neighbors were well-intentioned.
He didn’t know the names of even half of the people on his floor, let alone in his building.
“Good day for it.” Marco motioned to the sky, which held no trace of clouds.
“Great day for it,” Kyle agreed.
“Gonna see your girl?”
Oh. He hadn’t thought that Gen would tell the neighbors quite so soon about Bella, but okay. That was her prerogative, he guessed. “Yeah.”
“She hasn’t been at work the past few days. Is she sick?”
Oh, he meant Gen. Okay.
Then the rest of the comment sank in. Gen hadn’t been to work? He schooled his features. He thought she’d been too busy to respond to his texts, hence why, “I’m going to see her now.”
“’Kay.”
“Thanks for keeping an eye on them. Have a good one.” Kyle held out his clenched fingers for a fist bump.
Marco tapped it. “You too.”
His smile lasted until Marco exited, then dropped as he turned to face Gen’s door.
Okay, so now he was concerned. While part of him was surprised to know that Gen hadn’t apparently spilled any beans to the neighbors about Bella’s paternity, the fact she was sick and hadn’t contacted him felt wrong.
He should know. For Bella’s sake, if not his own.
And really, they were supposed to be friends, and friends told each other stuff like that, didn’t they?
He tapped on the door, consternation in his heart, and he wished he had a bunch of flowers or something that would make Gen feel better.
The door opened, and Bella’s worried brow smoothed. “Kyle! I mean, Dad. Hi.”
“Hey kiddo.”
She hesitated for a second, then rushed at him, surprising him in a hug.
Tender feelings he’d never really known squeezed around his heart. Oh, this girl. His girl. He loved her.
He wrapped her close, holding her in a lengthy moment until he realized she was trembling. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head, and he encased the back of her head with his hand. He was so big and she was so small. Must be those petite genes Minnie owned.
“Are you okay, Bella?”
She nodded. “It’s Mom. She’s not getting out of bed.”
His heart thudded. “Is she sick?”
“Grandma says she’s not, but then Grandma goes to work and doesn’t see Mom get back into bed and stay there. Like, all day.”
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
She held open the door and he went inside. Saw the place looked like a mess. Huh. It was the total opposite of the last time he’d been here when the room was as neat as a pin.
“Hey, Princess, when is your grandma coming back?”
She glanced at the calendar that was on the fridge, filled with highlighted colors, not unlike the schedule he remembered that Gen used to adhere to back in high school in order to get all her studies done. “She’s supposed to get back in two hours.”
Two hours? Okay. “Um, I want to check on your mom, but do you reckon you could help me clean this up so it’s nicer for when your grandma returns?”
She made a face but nodded. “Grandma wants Mommy to do it, says she’s just being lazy, but I think there’s something wrong with her.”
Okay, he had to see Gen stat, but couldn’t let his worries infect Bella’s own. “Can you show me where her room is?”
“Sure.”
She led the way to the small hallway which held four doors. Three small bedrooms and a bathroom, would be his guess. Bella pointed to the first room on the right, then pointed to the one next to it. “That’s my one.”
“Maybe you can show me your room once I’m done.”
“Yeah! I might need to tidy it, though.”
“We’ll clean the kitchen and living area first.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
He knocked on the door. “Hello, Gen? It’s Kyle.”
No answer.
“Gen? Are you awake? Bella is worried about you, and I just wanted to check that you’re okay.”
Still no answer.
He glanced at Bella and raised his eyebrows.
“You should go in,” she murmured. “When I was in there before she was just sleeping. Or maybe pretending to sleep. I don’t know. I feel like she just ignored me.”
He hugged her. “Hey, I’m sure it’s not you, sweet pea, so don’t take anything personally, okay?”
She nodded.
“Now go start cleaning up, and I’ll come and help in a minute.”
“Okay.”
As Bella slowly moved off, he knocked a third time, this time saying “Gen, I’m coming in, ready or not.”
It sounded like an old game of hide-and-seek they’d last played years ago. He twisted the flimsy handle—that would need to be repaired—and entered.
Then almost choked. The darkened room was warm, too warm, and layered with a multitude of odors like someone had been shut in for weeks. This did not compute with what he knew of Gen. Or Minnie, for that matter.
He moved to the bed, nearly tripping over a pile of envelopes on the floor. He glanced at them. Bills. Letters of demand. Oh no. Poor Gen.
He knelt by the bed, next to where she lay, and touched her forehead. “Gen? It’s Kyle. I’ve come to see you.”
She lay there, eyes closed, but fluttering every so often, and he could understand why Bella thought she might be faking sleep. She seemed alert, or at least aware enough that he was there.
“Gen, you don’t look well.” He placed a hand on her cheek.
She twitched, then slowly, very slowly, her eyelids lifted and she stared at him. “Go away.”
“No.”
She closed her eyes. “Please.”
“No. Something isn’t right and you need to tell me what it is so we can sort this out.”
“It… it can’t be sorted out.” Her voice was wispy, almost hoarse. “Go away.”
“Still can’t, I’m afraid. Your daughter—our daughter—is out there, frightened that there’s something very wrong with her mother, and she wants me to find out what it is.” Well, that had been the gist of that earlier encounter.
She shook her head.
“Gen, your mother is returning in two hours, and the place looks like a dump. You don’t really think she’s not gonna notice, do you?”
“Too tired.”
“Okay, so we’re getting somewhere. Are you sick, or just tired?”
Gen coughed. “Both.”
Sick and tired. A memory prodded regarding when he had joked about exactly that not so long ago.
“Gen, you’ve been complaining about feeling tired for a long time.
For as long as I’ve known you this time round, and previously too.
So I’m not surprised it’s finally taken a toll on your health.
Now, are you strong enough to get out of bed or do you need me to help you? ”
She frowned. “Help me?”
“Yeah. You need to get out of bed so we can wash the sheets and so you can have a shower.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Okay then.” It was time for tough love. He drew near and ripped back the blankets.
“Hey!”
He instantly averted his eyes. He hadn’t expected her to be wearing such short, uh, pajama shorts. “Do you want me to pick you up and take you to the shower?”
“No!” Then, when she refused to move, he bent down and she yelped. “Stop it!”
Footsteps raced up the hall. “Mommy? Kyle, what are you doing?”
“How long has it been since your mom had a shower, do you think?”
“I don’t know. At least two days.”
“Do you think you can go turn it on so it’s nice and warm for when she gets there?”
“I’m not having a shower,” Gen protested.
“You are. You need to. I didn’t want to say this before, but you smell.”
She gasped, as Bella said, “That’s not very nice, Kyle.”
Kyle, not Dad now. Okay. “It’s still true though, isn’t it?”
Her nose wrinkled. “Yes.”
“Go turn on the shower, Bella, while I get your mom there.”
Bella scampered away while he bent to scoop Gen up, doing his best to not notice how long her bare legs were. Or how loose the tank top was, that revealed interesting curves and—no.
Gen wriggled away from him. “I don’t want you to help me, Kyle.”
“Then help your daughter by getting in the shower. Now. And if you don’t, then I will take you there myself.”
“Why are you being such a bully? I have enough of them in my life,” she muttered.
“It’s called tough love, baby. Get used to it.”
“This isn’t love,” she snarled as she finally moved and snatched clothes from the floor.
Maybe not the kind of love she wanted right now.
But Jesus didn’t let His friends stay in their mess, and he wasn’t about to let Gen stay in hers.
And sure, some might see that as controlling as anything that Minnie had ever done, but he was concerned for Bella, and her obvious helplessness.
That was his motivation, nothing else. And knowing time was of the essence before Minnie returned he couldn’t wait an hour to plead with Gen until she finally agreed.
He followed as she staggered to the bathroom. She peered over her shoulder. “Are you coming in? You want to make sure I actually get clean?”
“Would you prefer me to do that or Bella?”
“Neither!”
“Then get in there, wash your hair, brush your teeth, and by the time you return we’ll see what we can get done. Okay?”
She stared at him, eyes narrowed, and for a moment loathing, as strong as anything else he’d ever witnessed from Minnie, speared him.
He shrugged it off. “So you do want me in there with you, huh?”
“No!” Her cheeks pinked. “I’m going.”
“Good.”
She slammed the door, and he exhaled shakily.
Then turned to see Bella eyeing him with a frown. “Don’t you like Mommy anymore?”
“I beg your pardon? Of course I do.”
“Then why are you yelling at each other?”
He sighed. He probably had not been the Jesus-like witness that he should’ve been.
“I’m sorry you heard that.” How could he explain his actions?
“You know how sometimes your mom might ask you to do something and you really don’t want to do it, and then you do it and you’re glad you did it, after all? ”
She nodded.
“I think that’s the same with your mom. I think she’s been working so hard that she has made herself sick. And it’s hard sometimes when you’re sick to see things as they really are. Like, she needs a shower but feels like it’s too hard. So I was just encouraging her to do so. In a firm way.”
Bella gave another nod, her expression thoughtful. “Is she depressed?”
Wow. That was a word he hadn’t expected. And, yes, while he suspected something of that nature, he wasn’t about to put a label on something that was so easily misunderstood.
“I think she’s been under strain for quite some time,” he said carefully, “and that makes it hard to see some good things. I know your mom’s job is not easy.”
She nodded. “Sometimes she cries when she gets back from work.”
Oh, poor Gen. He heard the sound of the water pressure in the pipes adjusting, like Gen was changing the temperature in the shower. But he didn’t want to imagine her in there. Had to take his thoughts captive. Now.
“Hey, do you mind if we pray for your mom?”
“Pray?” she asked doubtfully.
“Talk to God. Ask for Him to help her.”
“Uh, sure.”
He bowed his head, closed his eyes. Not because he thought God needed those two things to occur in order to hear him, but because Kyle didn’t want his daughter’s skepticism staring him in the face. “Hey God, thank You that You love Bella, and You love Gen, and You love me.”
“And Grandma too,” Bella inserted. “Oh, and Nanna and Poppy too.”
He swallowed a smile. “That’s right. And Lord, You know exactly what’s going on with Gen, in her heart and in her mind, and we pray that You would heal her. Help her know the peace that only You can bring.” He cupped the top of Bella’s head. “And I pray that You would help Bella know that too.”
“And Grandma. And Nanna and Poppy, too.”
“That’s right, them too. And we pray that You’ll help us clean up everything too. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
He waited for her to say Amen, but she didn’t. She was staring at him.
“What is it?”
“Is that praying?”
“Yep. As easy as talking with you. Except we’re talking to God.”
“How do you know if God exists?”
He chuckled. “Because I’ve seen Him do amazing things that no amount of coincidences can explain away. Even meeting your mom at the hospital, then finding out about you, makes me really feel like that was God who had been leading my paths.”
Her head tilted, as if she was thinking about this, then she nodded. “What’s Amen mean?”
“It means ‘let it be done so’. I think it’s a contraction for something like ‘all men agree’.”
“Not all women?”
“All men and women,” he agreed. “A contraction would work for either, as it means a shortened form of a word.”
“I know what a contraction is.” She rolled her eyes.
“Of course you do. Okay.” He stood. “Want to point me to where your laundry stuff is? I want to get fresh sheets on your mom’s bed, but I’m going to need some help. Then we’re going to have to race the clock and see what we can clean up before your grandma returns. You up for it?”
“Yeah!”
He held out his fist for her to bump, then realized she didn’t know what to do. “Hit my fist with yours,” he explained.
“Oh. Okay.” She belted his fist and he had to bite back a word.
“Whoa. You’ve got some strength there, kiddo.”
“I know. Mom reckons I’m pretty strong. Maybe I get that from you.”
He flexed his arm. “Probably.”
She did the same, and he laughed. Oh, he loved this girl. “Okay. Let’s see what we can do before your mom gets out of the shower.”
And he really wouldn’t think about that at all.