Admissions (16 page)

I walk toward the narrow beam of light, my hand reaching the knob, pushing the door open. A large wicker basket sits in the middle of the room. I hear a faint squeaking coming from it. I look in.

Kittens. Fuzzy, glue-eyed kittens. I pick up a frowzy gray one with dark tiger markings. I hold it to my cheek, nuzzle it in my neck and scratch it behind the ears.

The meowing behind me grows louder. I turn back toward the basket. The kittens are getting out, crawling over the sides, jumping to the floor, scurrying into the hall. I pat the back of the kitten cuddled against my neck. I grab the kitten under its armpits, hold it away from my body. But it isn’t a kitten at all. It’s a baby, some kind of baby with pointed ears, yellow eyes.

It scratches my face, jumps down, runs into the hallway with the others.

I step into the hall, the kittens are running. I’m horrified to see the hall ends in nothing, just a black hole. The kittens are falling off the edge. I try to run but I can’t. Their pitiful mewing fills my ears. The kitten baby is almost to the hole. My legs won’t move. I see Jeff standing in a far doorway. Maybe he can stop the kitten. “Jeff, the kitten. Stop the kitten.” He stands there, not moving.

“Luanne?” Mom opens the door to the bedroom. “Luanne, are you all right?”

Chapter 31

I
haven’t felt right since I got back from my home visit.”

“Right?” Dr. Murray asks.

“I’m afraid, jumpy, sort of.”

“Did something happen?”

“Well, my mom invited my sisters. That was pretty upsetting.”

“How so?”

“They’re so normal …I felt really uneasy.” I look up sheepishly. “I wouldn’t even go in at first.”

“In the house?”

“Yeah, but then I took a walk, and when I got back, it was going okay. Then Margo told me they were both pregnant.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“Teed off.”

“It made you feel angry?”

“Yes.”

“Go on.”

“I just lost Alexander, and they go out and get pregnant? Don’t you find that strange?”

“Strange?”

“Yes. Like they were trying to spit out a couple of kids to make up for the loss.”

“Whose loss?”

“I don’t know. The hole made in the family? I don’t know. I just felt they were being insensitive.”

“So you’re saying they shouldn’t have children because Alexander died?”

“Yes! I mean, no. I guess …I don’t know. It made me mad. Just forget it.”

“Are you mad now, Luanne?”

“Yes. You’re not helping me. I feel depressed.”

“Does your depression seem worse?”

“I don’t know. It’s not really like depression, more like I’m restless; my insides are jumping around, like I’m looking for the enemy to pop out of the dark.”

“What are you guarding against?”

“I’m not sure. Something inside me feels afraid …or maybe worried, is that anxiety?”

“Sounds like it. Anxiety is fear, but the scary thing is not always apparent.”

“I did have a nightmare when I was home.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, there were these kittens in a basket. I picked one up and it looked like a baby.”

“A human baby?”

“Like a human baby’s body, but it had pointy ears and yellow cat eyes. It scratched me. Then the other kittens started crying really loud, and they got out of the basket and ran out of the room. When I went into the hall, I could see they were falling off into a black hole, as if the hall just dropped off into a cavern or something.”

“What about the other one. The kitten with a baby’s body?”

“It ran into the hall, too. It looked like a regular kitten as it ran away. I chased after it but I couldn’t move.”

“How did you feel in the dream?”

“Scared. Helpless.”

“Helpless?”

“Yes, I wanted to save them, but I couldn’t do anything. I kept hearing them mewing. Then I saw Jeff standing in a doorway. He was between the kitten and the hole. I called to him. That was it. I woke up.”

“How do you feel about Jeff?”

“I can’t even think about that.”

“Luanne, I’d like to try something here,” Dr. Murray says. “Would you mind?”

“What?”

“I want you to close your eyes and try to imagine the end of the dream where Jeff stands in the doorway.”

“What?”

“Just humor me a minute. Would you be willing to try it?”

I sit back in the chair. “Now what?”

“See if you can visualize yourself in the dream, like you’re watching a movie. Let me know when you have a picture of yourself in your mind.”

“Okay. I can see myself.”

“Now I want you to pretend you’re acting out the dream, and you will be playing all the parts.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll guide you. First, I want you to see yourself in the dream.”

“Okay.”

“Can you see yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Now let’s give Luanne something to say. What would she say?”

“Ah …I don’t know.”

“Go ahead, Luanne. Talk as if you are the Luanne in the dream.”

“Ah …Jeff, catch the kitten!”

“Okay, good. Now you’re Jeff. What does he say?” Dr. Murray said.

“I can’t catch him.”

“Okay, now back to Luanne. Go back and forth a few times.”

“Why? Why can’t you help?”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“I told you what to do. Grab the kitten before it falls into the dark.”

“What kitten?”

“The one running past. Can’t you see him?”

“Luanne, what does the kitten say?” Dr. Murray asks.

“I’m going to play, and you can’t stop me.”

“Now back to Luanne,” Dr. Murray guides me.

“Here kitty, kitty. Don’t go there, kitty. It’s not safe, you’ll fall.”

“Kitty says?”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Jeff says?”

“I hear something. I hear the kitten crying.”

“Kitten?”

“I’m going over the edge. Help, help.”

“Luanne?”

“Jeff, why didn’t you stop him?”

“And then Jeff says …I can’t do it.”

“Go ahead,” Dr. Murray encourages me.

“I can’t do this …” I open my eyes, cry.

Dr. Murray hands me the box of tissues. “That’s alright. You did a fine job. Can I ask you something?”

“Okay.”

“Did Jeff help out much with Alexander?”

“Yes, of course he did.”

“Could he have done more?”

“No …I don’t think so. It’s so hard to remember exactly.”

“Are you feeling guilty about something, Luanne?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I feel guilty. I’m the mother. I should have been able to help Alexander.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. Done something.”

“You did everything you could. Alexander was leaving, and there was nothing you or Jeff could do about it. You did the best you could.”

“I…we…” I can’t hold it together. I put my hands over my face and cry.

“Anything else, Luanne? Will you try to forgive yourself?” I reach for a Kleenex, blow my nose.

“No. I’ve had enough.”

Chapter 32

I
lean against the wall next to the pay phones and check the wall clock. At exactly three o’clock, the phone rings.

“Could I speak to Luanne Kilpi please?”

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Oh, hi. How are you?”

“Good. Can’t wait to see you and Molly. Are you still coming?”

“Yes, we are. We have a room at a place called Dream Acres Motel in Honor. Is that close to Traverse City?”

“Yes, I think so. Are you coming Friday?”

“Yes. Can you get out for dinner?”

“I’ve already talked to the social worker and she said I could have a weekend pass. We can see the parade and go to the fireworks. And I’d love to spend one afternoon at the beach.”

“That sounds good. The motel wasn’t that much.”

I walk into the visitors’ room on Friday, carrying a paper bag with my swimsuit and a change of clothing. Mom and Molly sit by the windows. Mom clutches her handbag, stares straight ahead, her brows knitted and her lips thin as if she is bracing for a punch. She looks tired.

We walk to the visitors’ parking lot. “I’ll just throw my bag in the trunk.” I wait by the back of the car.

“Are you allowed to drive? We don’t know our way around.” Mom takes the keys from her purse and hands them to me.

“I haven’t driven here either, but it might do me good. I still have my driver’s license,so I guess I can drive.” I slam the trunk, walk to the driver’s side.

“Molly, you sit in front with Luanne. I’ll sit in back.”

Mom doesn’t wait for an answer. She opens the door and slides into the back seat. I drive down the winding drive of the hospital.

“Jeff’s been seen all over town with that girl from work,” Molly says.

“Oh?” So the girl at work was nobody, just somebody who worked on the line. Our divorce was in limbo. I’d been granted some kind of crazy person dispensation, so even though the paperwork was filed, it was frozen. I decided to leave it that way. Jeff’s
friend
would just have to wait.

“Molly, Luanne does not need to hear about Jeff Kilpi.” Mom leans up from the back seat, pokes Molly’s shoulder. “I still can’t believe he turned out to be so selfish.”

“He’s an asshole,” Molly says.

“No need for that kind of language,” Mom says. “Luanne, I ran into your friend, Jan, after Mass last Sunday.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s got two kids now …oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” But it isn’t okay. My anger springs up. “I hope Jan knows she could lose those precious kids at any moment. See how happy she would be if one of her kids got sick and died, how badly she would want to go to church then.”

“God is a comfort, Luanne.”

“I’m mad at God right now, Mom.”

“I know …I’m sorry. You’ll change your mind.”

Well, the visit is going swell so far. Jeff has a new woman to take my place, and my best friend turns out to be a baby machine. I hate it when Mom runs into people from my other life. But I’m not going to let it ruin my weekend. People talk; I have to let it go.

Mom leans forward again, puts her arm over the seat back. “Father Barnes is still reading your name every Sunday, asking for prayers. You’re listed in the church bulletin in the
Intentions
section under your maiden name and married name, Luanne Iazetto Kilpi. That way, people know who you are. Who to pray for.”

I tighten my hands around the steering wheel to keep from lashing out. I try not to think about how my family is reacting. I’m sure my mother keeps them posted. Lord knows, it’s the least I can do, let Mom sugarcoat it any way she needs to.

Out of seven kids, nobody else got into deep water. Until I went nuts, the only gnarl on the family tree was Margo’s teen pregnancy. After the rushed nuptials, Margo left for Grand Rapids with her new husband. I went along with Mom and Dad a few times to visit Margo and Ron in their upstairs apartment across from the John Ball Park Zoo. The apartment was stifling, the baby cried constantly, and Margo was as big as a barn. I remember thinking how rotten a cook Margo was. How did she get so fat? On top of that, Mom wouldn’t let me go outside—afraid I’d be kidnapped and groomed as a hooker by pimps on the street.

“How are Margo and Charlene,” I ask my mother, trying to lighten things up.

“I talked to Margo yesterday. She’s due in a couple months. And your sister Charlene isn’t far behind.”

I thought about the day Alexander was born—Halloween. My water broke at work. I hid out in the employee bathroom until Jeff showed up with a change of clothes. We went home, I called Dr. Powell.

“Wait until your contractions are five minutes apart,” he said. By dusk, the porch lights began to flick on as the neighborhood kids came trick-or-treating down our street.

I stretched out on the living room couch, my hands on my stomach, my eyes closed. “It’s starting,” I called to Jeff. He grabbed his watch and stood staring at it.

“Okay, it passed,” I sighed.

“Still twelve minutes.” He placed his watch on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen, brought back a basket of candy to sit by the front door.

I waddled to the door between contractions and passed out candy to several pirates, Frankenstein, a trio of ghosts, cowboys, witches, a cat, and a bum. Jeff stood next to me with his watch in his hand. By eight o’clock, the last ghoul had turned and left the porch, headed home to sort his candy. My contractions were ten minutes apart.

“If I have this baby before midnight, his birthday will be on Halloween. He’ll be a little warlock,” I smiled. Jeff laughed and kissed me on the forehead. Alexander Jeffrey Kilpi was born at 11:23 p.m., October 31, l965.

“Charlene and Tony and little Mark were over for dinner Sunday. She’s very uncomfortable with this heat,” Mom says. “They send their love.”

“Let’s be honest, Tony never liked me.”

“That’s not true, Luanne. He likes you.”

“Mom, I’m trying to be open about my feelings, more honest and up front. That’s what I’m working on with my doctor. She said I set myself up for a breakdown because of my perfectionism and my inability to admit when I had problems.”

“Okay. Yes, he can be a hothead. He’s still mad because the back end went out on his new car when he pulled the homecoming float.”

“It was the transmission, Mom. Not the back end.”

“I remember hearing about that,” Molly says.

“It’s ancient history.” I don’t feel like repeating the story again. I’m getting tired of driving, my anxiety is building.

“Come on, give me the juicy details,” Molly begs.

“Remember that baby blue convertible Tony had?”

“Yeah, of course. He took me for a ride in it.”

“Charlene volunteered Tony to pull the Queen’s float. The deal was that Bob Voisin would drive Tony’s car.”

“Who’s Bob Voisin?” Molly asks.

“You know, Bob Voisin, captain of the football team …married Bobbie Carlsen …works at Bierlein’s now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Anyway, we’re heading down Davenport Avenue when I start to smell something burning. Bob keeps looking back over his shoulder. He knows something is wrong. Charlene and Tony appear along the parade route, Tony looking madder and madder every time he shows up. I’m up there waving and smiling from my throne, and all I can think of is that we’re burning up the four-on-the-floor in Tony’s new Malibu convertible.”