“Like, what am I supposed to say?”
“How about something like, ‘You seem sad. Why are you sad?’”
She shook her head. She really didn’t want to do that. She was afraid of the answer.
“Want to have a family session? I could ask him with you present and that would give you an opportunity to listen in a safe place. You wouldn’t have to do the asking.”
She shook her head again. Safe place or not, she didn’t want the answer.
“Oh, boy,” Jerry said. “You have a very big cork holding back something important. If you’ll get it out where we can look at it, maybe we can work through it.”
“You say that a lot,” she said, an angry edge to her voice. “Get it out where we can look at it! I don’t have to look at it! He’s sad, that’s all.”
“Are you afraid he’s sad because he now has permanent custody?”
“No!” she shot back angrily. “I know why he’s sad! Because I told him he can’t marry Kelly!”
Silence hung in the air for a moment. Finally Jerry said, “Was he planning to marry Kelly?”
She shook her head and swallowed thickly. “He said he wasn’t planning to.”
“Okay,” Jerry said. “So, you’re both in the same canoe on that subject. Then why is he sad and you’re sad that he’s sad?”
She took a breath. “He wants me to give her a chance because he said she’s a good person. And I said I want it to be just us. Me and him.”
“I see. You must have had a very good reason…”
“You know,” she said. “The way things go.”
“Maybe you could explain that to me in your own words and we could go from there.”
She smirked at him. “You know, you’re such a sneak sometimes. This is more of that Get it out there where we can look at it!”
“Guilty as charged. Got an A-plus in Sneaky 101. So?”
“Things just don’t work out the best sometimes, you know? Me and my mom were real happy, then Dad came along. We were all real happy. Then my mom died and Dad sent me to Stu. He said he had to and didn’t want to, but that didn’t make it easy. Then Stu sent me back. Then Stu tricked me at Christmas and almost gave me a fucking nervous breakdown… Sorry. About the swearing.”
“Courtney, you can swear your head off in here. As much as you want. I’m not here to judge. Go on.”
“So then I’m back with Dad and what’s the first thing we have to think about? How about Kelly? Let’s let Kelly come into the family!”
“Don’t you like Kelly?”
“She’s all right. She’s even nice, sort of. She can be funny. I like her sister better but her sister is hooked up to Colin, who I also like. It’s not that I don’t like her.”
“Then what is it?”
“What if they get married and something happens? What if Dad dies, then Kelly has me, then Kelly gives me back to Stu, then Stu gives me back to Kelly, then Kelly finds some guy to marry and she dies and so on? Huh? You think I feel like doing all that again?”
“Apparently it’s the uncertainty of the future that bothers you most. Frightens you.”
“Duh,” she said.
“Maybe you should talk to your dad about this.”
“What’s he going to say? That he’s not going to die? He can! I think it’s better if it’s just us. Me and him. We don’t need anyone else.”
Jerry waited it out, like he was expecting her to say something more. Finally he said, “But you do. Courtney, you do need other people. And right now, one of the things you need to know is what plans your dad has for you if anything should happen to him. Not only is there a possible new woman in your future, but your dad also has family in Idaho. Family you like. As for Kelly, she has family you like. Why don’t you try to get some of these questions answered before you put this kind of pressure on yourself?”
“What pressure? It’s no pressure on me! If he wasn’t sad, I wouldn’t be sad!”
“But that’s where you’re wrong—this situation that you’ve outlined, just you and him and the rest of the world stay away—this puts an enormous burden on you. You’re fourteen and a half, almost fifteen. Very soon there’s going to be a boyfriend if there isn’t already, and he’s only going to be the first boyfriend. You’re going to get older, spread your wings, go to college, travel the world, find new boyfriends and more best female friends. In a few years, about three and a half, you’re not going to be living with your dad every day, every night. You’re probably going to be living in a dorm or apartment with girlfriends. You’re going to fall in love. You might fall in love more than once. You might go back to your dad’s now and then, maybe even for long stretches like a couple of months at a time. But it’s your job to build a life outside of your dad’s house. And then you’re going to want to bring some of that life back to him to share—like your boyfriend, your fiancé, your husband and children…”
“That is not happening anytime soon!”
“Sooner than you think. What about your dad? Don’t you worry that he’ll be lonely when you start to spread your wings?”
“We can worry about that later…”
“I see. Well, just so you know, they don’t allow fathers to live in sorority houses with their daughters.”
“Funny. You’re so funny…”
“Courtney, you’re not only asking him to remain lonely and sad so that you can feel safe, but you’re asking yourself to keep all the important people of your future away so you can dedicate yourself to him so you can feel safe. And you’ll be lonely.” Jerry shook his head. “That’s the hard way.”
“Then what’s the easy way?”
“Tell your dad you’ve been stressed out about your future, about where you would go and what you would do if anything should happen to him. Talk it out.”
“He’ll just say—”
“Lief Holbrook lost a young wife in a completely tragic and unpredictable brain hemorrhage. He is not going to say it can’t happen.” Jerry paused. “And if there’s the slightest worry that you might be a little afraid of getting attached to someone like Kelly and losing her somehow, you could talk about that, as well.”
She just shrugged. And gave a little sniff, though she wasn’t going to cry.
“You’re not unique, you know,” Jerry said. “It’s not even a teenage thing, Courtney. It’s a very normal, human frailty we all have, to be afraid someone we love could be taken from us. And the reality is, eventually we all suffer loss. It’s a sad fact of life. There is no way to stop it, really. But there is a way to prepare for it…”
“Let me guess,” she said sarcastically, feeling a very large rock welled in her throat. “Get it out there where you can look at it.”
“Yes, Courtney, tiresome as you find it. This is what people do to the best of their ability. Not just by talking about their fears and worries, but by being proactive. They have medical checkups, take their vitamins, wear their seat belts, write wills. It really does all begin with talking about it, however. I’d like you to seriously consider that.”
“But see, not everyone goes through it,” she said. “Even if they talk about it, sometimes it never comes,” she said, unable to swallow.
“Yes, Courtney. Everyone goes through it. You can’t name a person who hasn’t or won’t experience loss and grief.”
“How about Amber, huh? The only girl in a family that thinks she’s the princess? I mean, they’re dorky, but really… And she’s too dorky to ever worry about anything. Amber’s life is so calm and easy, even if she does have a lot of chores.”
Jerry lifted a brow. “And doesn’t she also have a little brother or nephew in a wheelchair? With a disease for which there is no known cure?”
“Rory,” she said in a breath. How had Rory not even come to mind? Because even though he was in a wheelchair, he was so cute and funny and crazy, it was easy to forget he might not live past his teenage years. He could, she knew that. Not likely, though. “Well, thanks a lot. Now I feel even
worse.”
“When you and your dad understand each other’s feelings, you’re going to feel a lot better. I’m going to see you in a week. If you want to bring your dad along for a little help in talking about this, you’re welcome to do so.”
“Not fucking likely,” she said. Then she tilted her head and smirked at him. “You said I could swear.”
“Absolutely, Courtney. In fact, it’s helpful. When you cut loose like that, I know what things you’re most angry or passionate about.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes I really hate you.”
He smiled a bit. “I get that a lot.”
Nothing could solidify that rock in Courtney’s throat like shifting her thoughts from her own losses to the potential of losing Rory. She loved that goofy kid! And Amber might seem dorky, but Courtney knew in her heart that far more than dorky, she was sincere and loving and devoted to her family.
And to Courtney.
The very next day at lunch Courtney asked Amber, “Do you ever worry about maybe losing Rory?”
Amber chewed and swallowed and said, “All the time. It’s not even a maybe—if some wonderful, scientific thing doesn’t happen, we will lose him. And it kills me.”
“Does he know that?” she asked.
“Of course he does. He’s been in the chair two years—you think he hasn’t asked what it all means? Little booger is smart, you know that. He knows more about his disease than the doctors, I think.”
“Isn’t he scared?”
“Sometimes, but he knows it won’t hurt. He knows it will only hurt the ones like us who will have to miss him.”
Courtney shook her head. “How do you do that? Talk about it without crying?”
She shrugged. “We already did the crying.”
The next day was a rare sunny March day and Courtney’s riding lesson was on. She was getting very good on Blue; she could not only move her around expertly and perform a thorough grooming right down to the hooves, but she’d actually washed her down a couple of times.
After her lesson, Lilly Tahoma invited her to ride along the trail with her for a half hour or so before Lief picked her up. Blue was Lilly’s horse, but she let Courtney keep her and took one of the other stable horses.
Lilly yammered about how the green growth of spring was beginning to peek through, especially in the foothills, and they were enjoying one or two warm days every week. “And the snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt, so watch yourself around the river—it will swell. Courtney?”
“Hm?” Courtney said, turning her attention back to Lilly.
“Did you hear what I said about the river?”
“No, what?”
“The snow pack in the mountains is beginning to melt. You should mind the river—it could swell and even flood.”
“Okay,” she said.
“You’ve been so quiet. Is there something on your mind?”
“Hm? No, nothing…”
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but you should never be dishonest. Just say ‘it’s personal’ and that will do it.”
“No, there’s nothing,” she insisted.
“Old Hopi saying—When you lose your temper, you lose a friend. When you lie, you lose yourself.”
And Courtney shot back, “When you’re nosy, you irritate people.”
Lilly chortled. “What is most fun about you, you have the face of a young girl and the sharp mind of a wizard. I apologize. I didn’t mean to pry or offend. You’re right to correct me.”
Courtney sighed. “Sometimes I just flip out. Sorry. I’ve been worrying about things. One of them is my best friend’s little eight-year-old nephew who has muscular dystrophy. He’s in a wheelchair and seems to be doing fine right now, but it’s not good, you know?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Sometimes life can seem so cruel.”
“No kidding.”
“How is your friend handling it?”
“She’s handling it fine! I’m not doing so great with it.”
“Oh, Courtney, there’s an adjustment to news like that. Don’t be hard on yourself.”
“Well, it’s not that I’m hard on myself,” she said. “You know my mother died, right? I mean, even though I never tell anyone, everyone seems to know.”
“I knew, yes. I believe your father mentioned it.”
“Well, that wasn’t too easy. And I guess I worry about going through stuff like that. It’s made me sad.” Then she shrugged. “I guess.”
“Oh, now, that I understand,” she said with a laugh. “I’m an expert at that. I was hurt once and decided never to be hurt again.”
Courtney was astonished and looked at Lilly. “Really? I mean, really?”
“Oh, yes. It gave me a chronic sore throat, holding back the tears. Afraid of the tears. But the Hopi have another old saying. Crying will release the sorrowful thoughts on the mind.”
“Where do you get all these old Hopi sayings?”
She laughed. “From an old Hopi grandfather. I treasure them now, but believe me, as I was growing up he got on my last nerve!”
“Did you ever hurt so bad inside that you were afraid you’d never stop crying? That maybe you’d die of crying? That the ground might swallow you up?”
“Oh, sweeting, yes! That’s why I cut it off! But people don’t die of crying—they only get very messy and very tired and in the end, there is sometimes relief. Sometimes it takes a lot of that messy crying to get relief. But it is cleansing.”
“What did you cry over? Did your mother die?”
“I never knew my mother,” Lilly said. “Other heartbreaks, certainly not the same as yours. Life’s path sometimes has many rocky curves.”
“Another Hopi saying?”
“No,” Lilly said with a laugh. “The unfortunate truth! I’ve had as many hard times as wonderful times. As I’m older, I flow with it better than I did when I was your age. At least you have that to look forward to!”
“That’s good news…” Courtney replied drily.
“I’ve been meaning to commend you on your progress, Courtney—some of the wonderful news of the day. And I’m wondering—would you consider helping me with some of the much younger girls? Some of them are nervous around the horses and some have a bigger problem—they’re not nervous and perhaps too brave to pay attention to safety. They could use a role model like you to show them the way.”
“Seriously?”
“I couldn’t be more serious. I’m very proud of you. I think you could teach us all. Could you help?”
“Sure,” she said, her entire mood suddenly brighter.
“It’s just about finished, Courtney,” Lief said on the drive home from the stables. “The custody filing. I have to appear in court, but it’s a mere formality and you don’t have to go. This will be the end of it. I will only be gone one night and the Hawkinses said you and Spike can stay with them.”
“I don’t need to stay with them,” she said.
“I took care of it, honey. Pack an overnight, take the bus home from school so you can pick up Spike and your bag. Amber’s dad will come for you. Then, if you’re okay being alone until I get home late Thursday night, they can drop you and Spike off after dinner. You okay with that? Because if you’re not, you can stay with them two nights. I should be back by eleven at the latest. Want to stay a second night?”
“No,” she said quickly. “I’ll come home.”
He chuckled. “Okay. Mr. Hawkins said he’d bring you. You have your key. And…do I even have to say this? No friends over. No sneaking out, no beer, no etcetera?”
“Gimme a break,” she said. “Haven’t I been like a perfect child?”
“Truthfully? Yes. Great record. Don’t mess it up.”
Seventeen
Courtney made a decision to show Lief how totally functional they were, just the two of them. When she got to school she told Amber that her dad’s trip was postponed, and it would maybe happen next week, but she wouldn’t b
e spending the night.
“Aw, that’s too bad,” Amber said. “I was kind of hoping you’d come.”
“Well, I could come anyway, but I should stay home and, you know, catch up on stuff. You’re doing okay on algebra, right?”
“Thanks to you!” she said, smiling.
“Will you tell your mom and dad? Tell your dad not to come and pick me up?”
“Sure. Wanna do something on the weekend?”
“We could do that,” Courtney said. “I’ll ask my dad.”
And when she got home from school, Lief was gone and Spike was in the kennel waiting for her. Lief had left her a note: Call my cell for any reason. And here are some numbers in case you have a problem of any kind. Love, Dad.
Dad. That felt so good, so right. So there was a lot in her life that was kind of upside down, but Lief was her dad and he was getting the papers signed.
They had talked about her last name—Lord. She’d been using Holbrook at school because it was less confusing, but it wasn’t her legal name. Lief had told her that after she was eighteen she could have her name legally changed if she wanted to and wouldn’t need anyone’s permission, not even Stu’s. She was planning on doing just that.
The names and numbers under his note included Kelly’s cell phone and landline, the number for the town doctor, Dr. Michaels, the number for Jack Sheridan, who could find anyone she might need, Mike Valenzuela, the town cop and the number of the veterinarian in Fortuna they’d taken Spike to for his shots.
She’d only been home a couple of hours when her cell phone rang, and she saw that it was Lief.
“Hi, honey,” he said. “Doing okay?”
“Just doing homework,” she said. It wasn’t a complete lie. She was doing homework, but she wasn’t doing it with Amber. She was doing it at home alone. She was thinking about making some mac and cheese, and while she told the literal truth, she knew she was misleading him. She just wanted him to know that they could make it, just the two of them. She wanted him to know she’d stick by him, and he didn’t need to be sad anymore.
Regardless of all the things Jerry and Lilly had said about this, about worrying about the grief and pain the future might bring, it still seemed like the best idea was proving herself competent. And proving to Lief he didn’t need anyone else.