3 Can You Picture This? (11 page)

“Maybe you will.”

I wish he hadn’t said that.

SIXTEEN

T
he next day was both the Fourth of July and my birthday, a combination I had endured all my life. We needed to get some sleep. George had promised me that we’d be staying up late tomorrow night. I didn’t know what he had planned, but smiled as I dropped George at his house with the promise that I’d still be careful.

“Yes, I’ll lock the door. Yes, I’ll check in the backseat of my car. Yes, I’ll call you if I have to leave, and you can go with me.”

“Wait a minute,” he said. “Let me follow you home and make sure you get inside. I’ll feel better.”

I didn’t argue. And waited while he went in back to the garage. After the weird episode on my walk, I would do everything I could do to keep safe. I was really glad to be out of protective custody. I didn’t really know why George wasn’t arguing that point, but I didn’t want to ask, afraid he’d change his mind.

It was just a moment before his headlights blinked behind my car, letting me know I could go.

We talked on the phone while we drove. Both of us had hands free set-ups so we were within the law. It felt funny because we’d been together for the last several nights, but we both knew that we needed to get back to normal as soon as we could. Plus, with my kids at home, I didn’t want George and me to be practically living together.

In a few minutes we were there. He and I got out of the car at the same time. We kissed good night.

“Make sure you don’t let anyone else in the house. Don’t go out without telling me. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be good.”

He didn’t leave until he saw me unlock my door and step inside.

When I walked into my home there was Jimmy Mansfield sitting on my couch, petting Clancy. My first reaction was panic.

“Where are they? Are they okay? Why are you here?” My questions peppered the poor guy so much that he put his arms up in self-defense.

“Sam. Sam. Sam,” was all he said until I shut up. Then he quickly said, “They’re okay. I’m not here as a cop.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Well,…”

He was rescued by my daughter Sarah, who walked into the room at that point.

“Mom, leave him alone.” She turned to Jimmy and said, “I’m so sorry. My mother can be rather overzealous when it comes to my brother and me.”

Turning back to me she said, “Mom, Jimmy and I are going out tonight. I don’t have to work.”

“Oh…‌oh.” I was grateful Sarah was okay, but felt stupid at my impulsive behavior. So I added, “Have fun.”

“Where’s Adam?” I asked.

“I think he’s upstairs taking a nap,” she responded with a shrug. “He talked about going out with his friends again tonight. Including Uncle Rob.”

So both my kids are hanging out with the guys who were their bodyguards last night. Interesting.

I excused myself and took Clancy outside, thinking about one of my many faults. George was probably right. I was turning 43 tomorrow, and it was definitely time to grow up in a few areas. In elementary school I had always gotten in trouble for talking. I was thrown off the cheerleading squad in 8th grade at St. Francis Elementary School for “talking in line repeatedly.” And I was given an F in Conduct that same year for my comment to Sister Margaret when I said, “Pipe down, Maggie.” So when people talk about my impulsivity, they aren’t telling me something I don’t already know. And I’m much too old for it to be charming.

I knew I needed to think things out much more carefully than I had been. And that included my life with George.

“C’mon, Clancy, let’s go to bed,” I said as she finished her business. We walked back into the house and I noticed that Sarah and Jimmy were sitting rather close on the couch. Deciding to mind my own business for once in my life, I said goodnight to them and took Clancy with me into my room.

“Maybe I need to get some therapy myself,” I whispered to my best friend as I crawled into bed.

She didn’t say anything, because she was already snoring.

I snuggled up to Clancy until her snoring started bothering me, and I turned to my other side. It did feel good though to have her in the bed. It helped me not miss George so much.

“Maybe I do need to talk to someone,” I whispered again before I fell asleep.

I sat up abruptly as I awoke to noises that scared the hell out of me—banging, horns blowing, yelling. At the foot of my bed stood Adam, Sarah, and George, each making obnoxious noises of some kind. Adam held two saucepan lids, Sarah had a whistle, and George blew on a birthday horn.

I blinked and smiled and groaned when I realized what was going on. I was definitely glad I had a T-shirt on. Sarah led in the singing with her usual exuberance, and even dour Adam was grinning.

I also noticed that Clancy was with them. Normally she wouldn’t enjoy the noise, but she was smiling. My surprise was keeping me quiet.

Finally George said, “Happy birthday, honey. Welcome to my age.” He leaned over and gave me a kiss on the cheek. He was quickly followed by Adam and then Sarah. Sarah excused herself and left my bedroom.

Soon we heard her voice saying, “It’s ready. Come in.”

I expected some coffee and toast, which is what the kids had always made for my breakfast in bed ever since they were little. After asking Adam and George to leave so I could put on some sweats, I looked around for some clean ones. Failing that, I put on some dirty sweats, anchored a bra in place, and kept on my oversized T-shirt.

Stumbling out of my bedroom I noticed it was dark in the kitchen. Too tired to care, I kept walking. Of course I noticed something was up. But when I got to my living room and still didn’t see anyone, I got suspicious. I looked around, which didn’t take long, and then went upstairs to look at Sarah and Adam’s bedrooms. Even Clancy was gone.

Finally I opened the door and walked outside. What I saw startled me and once again I couldn’t talk. There stood George, Sarah, Adam, and all of my sibs and most of their spouses. Everyone was raising a glass of something or other. I couldn’t tell if it was orange juice or champagne.

“You guys,” was all I said when I could finally talk. My eyes were filled with happy tears, but all at once I remembered what I looked like, and shrieked. “Yikes!”

“I told you, Sam,” said George, “no one says ‘Yikes’ anymore.”

“She does,” said Adam. I smiled at him sticking up for his old mom. At the same time I tried to cover myself with my hands, even though I was already covered by raggedy clothes.

Since they were all relatives, except for George, I relaxed and just let it go. George had seen me at my worst and at my best, and still said he loved me.

“So what’s this? Whose idea was it? Don’t you all have to be at work? Why is it so dark? Where’s breakfast?”

George looked into Adam’s dark eyes for sympathy, “Was she always like this, with the questions one after another.”

“I’m afraid so.” Then Adam addressed me, “Mom, we wanted to have a birthday party for you. It’s the Fourth of July and no one has to work. Thought you’d remember that. Anyway, we couldn’t get everyone together easily, so this was our compromise. We knew you didn’t have to work today, so George took a day off too—”

“And then,” Sarah continued, “we decided to have a breakfast party. Everyone was able to clear an hour or so early in the morning before the holiday got into full swing, so that’s what we did.”

“Thank you,” I said as I hugged all three of them and made my way down the line of all the rest of my family. Jenny first, the only sib shorter than I was. Her dark blonde hair was natural, unlike mine. Her husband Manh was on duty at the hospital and couldn’t be there, she said, but sent his well wishes.

Ed and Angie were next. I wondered if we always stood in birth order without thinking, or if this was something they had planned. He was tall and slender, an anomaly, but did have the tow-colored hair and blue eyes that were the norm. Pete was another anomaly. One because he was even taller than Ed and two because he was a priest. Not much celibacy going around our family. Everyone had kids except Pete and Rob, who wasn’t married yet. Jill had her usual blonde pony tail. She and her husband Ben stood holding hands, which made me smile. Rob was the only one with a hint of red in his hair.

I must have been in shock because I hadn’t noticed my nieces and nephews moving about—Rosie and Annie, Jack and Marty, Alice, Susan, John, Robert, and Skeeter.

I was attacked with hugs and cries of “Happy Birthday, Aunt Sam!” Smiling was the only thing I could do, except hug back.

Robert had on a blue GCHS sweatshirt. I remarked on it. He reminded me that he went there instead of St. Francis High because of a special program they had for students who were bright but had a learning disability. I told him I’d want to talk to him a little later, because he was the only one in the family who went there.

In the meantime, George took my arm and escorted me toward Gus and Georgianne’s. I dutifully went up the back stairs with him, followed closely by Clancy, but George wouldn’t answer any of my questions about why we were there.

As he opened the screen door I smelled some lovely food. Both Georgianne and Gus had on aprons and we followed them as they carried food from the kitchen, past the breakfast room/butler’s pantry, and into the formal dining room. Of course. My house couldn’t hold everyone so George and the kids had to be resourceful and make other arrangements.

I stopped Gus before he went back into the kitchen.

“Gus, this is so sweet. Thank you.”

“I would have been mad to have been left out. You getting me involved in your shenanigans has made a new man of me. So it’s I who should thank you.”

I hugged him and then approached Georgianne.

“Thanks, Georgianne. I appreciate this so much.”

“Nonsense, Samantha. I’m pleased we could be in on the surprise.” Then she hugged me, which upped the quality of surprise exponentially.

There weren’t enough chairs for everyone, but Gus spread tablecloths on the floor and the next generation ate there, even the ones in college. Clancy sat with them, saliva dripping from her mouth. But she didn’t dare to take anything without permission.

Then Georgianne put some scrambled eggs in a small bowl, put it on the floor, and in a voice others used for talking to infants, said, “Here, you sweet little poochy-woochy.”

And Clancy did what Clancy always does, she showed Georgianne how much she loved her by rolling over on her back so her belly could be rubbed. Even before eating the eggs. These two had developed a very close relationship since Clancy and I had moved into the carriage house. In the beginning I hated it because of my intense dislike of Georgianne. Then I began to tolerate it. Now I loved it. My feelings about their relationship echoed the way my feelings about Georgianne had changed.

Even before I cleaned my plate, I sat back and surveyed the room. I thought that I must be the luckiest gal alive. The man I loved was sitting next to me. My two kids were there. All my sibs and most of the in-laws. And tons of nieces and nephews.

As I thought about them, my eye was caught again by Robert’s blue Gem City High School sweatshirt. I also saw his plate was about empty, and quickly finished my breakfast.

“Robert, can we talk for a minute?” I asked, as I pulled his chair back from the table.

“Yeah, but I was gonna get more of…”, he tried to talk but I cut him off.

“You can get more in a minute. This is important.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, okay,” I said, but grudgingly. “Hurry up, hon. I
really
want to talk to you.”

The strange look he gave me didn’t cause me any trouble. I was used to it. My nieces and nephews loved me, but I was an oddity among a group of people who were not a traditional family anyway. Jenny and I had raised the smaller sibs after our parents died, so I was kind of a grandma figure to some of the younger nieces and nephews. Robert was one of the older kids, so he saw me as an aunt, and not a grandma.

Everyone knew that patience was not a virtue I possessed. So I grumbled, shuffled my feet, came off like I had restless leg syndrome, and in general was insufferable. My vibes were making me uncomfortable. I just knew that the unusual blue color was a major clue in the mystery.

“Sam, what’s the matter?” asked George. “This is a party. Why are you so antsy?”

“I have an idea about the murder. I
have
to talk to Robert, but he keeps wanting to eat.”

“Come here,” he said as he stood. He put an arm around me and smiled, so it was hard for me to be mad, but I knew he was going to yell at me. In a nice way of course. After all, he was George.

“Stop it,” was all he said, as we stood alone in the kitchen.

After that, it was easy for me to be mad.

“What in the world are you talking about?” I almost yelled.

“Shh. There’s no need to upset the others.” His head moved almost imperceptibly in the direction of the dining room.

“George, you’re shushing me. You’re actually shushing me!” George had always been so kind and understanding, and seemed to even like my idiosyncrasies. I guess he’d had his fill.

“You’re going to break up with me, aren’t you?” I continued with a whiny voice even I didn’t recognize.

“Of course not. Why do you think that every time we have a disagreement I’m going to break up with you?”

“It’s a long story, but my ex-husband threw it up to me every time we got in an argument. He always threatened to leave. Maybe I’m not over that yet.”

George took my hands as he said, “I’m not him.”

“I know,” I said as I started to lean into him.

“Don’t try to change the subject, and don’t try to hug me out of talking to you about your behavior.”

I was silent.

George continued, “You sat there like a little kid. At least you didn’t make faces, but it was obvious you were impatient. We all put a lot of effort into making your birthday special, and I’d appreciate it if you acted your age.”

“You’re right.” And then at George’s request, I repeated it. “You’re right,” I said again.

Inside I felt turmoil. I recognized he was 100% right. Normally my sibs would tease me out of my moods. But it seems they were letting George deal with me assertively, instead of the passive-aggressive family way using sarcasm. I made another silent promise to myself to improve. And said to myself yet again,
Maybe I should talk to someone about this.
It was almost a “physician heal thyself” moment.