Gold Hill (14 page)

“
Yeah,” Tanesha said. “His
shirt blew up and I could see his tattoo, you know the one around
his belly button that says, ‘Forever Miss T.’ When I close my eyes,
I see that stupid tattoo and the blood
and . . . ”

Tanesha’s eyes filled with
moisture and her lip trembled. She grit her teeth to keep from
crying.

“
Can I say something?”
Jeraine asked.

“
Just a second,” the
therapist said. “What do you think it means?”

“
It’s a sign,” Tanesha
said. “He’s going to kill himself and make me watch and blame me
for everything and . . . ”

“
But . . . ” Jeraine
interjected.

The therapist shook her
head at him. Tanesha shrugged. The therapist let the silence drag
in case Tanesha wanted to add something. When she didn’t say
anything, the therapist looked at Jeraine.

“
What did you want to
add?” the therapist asked.

“
I don’t have a tattoo
around my belly button,” Jeraine said.

“
Yes you do,” Tanesha
said. “You have a little red heart inside your belly
button.”

Surprised, Jeraine put a
protective hand to his stomach.

“
No, I don’t,” he said.
“I’d never . . .
in
my belly button?
Inside
the . . . ? No, not me.”

Tanesha gave him a look of
disgust for his lies and looked away.

“
Look,” he said. He pulled
up his T-shirt to show his abdomen. There was no tattoo in sight.
“No tattoos.”

“
You had it taken off,”
she said.

“
No,” he shook his head.
“I never tattooed my belly because I’m in all those ads, my
calendar, magazines . . . People want to see my
build, my abs, not some tattoo. And my belly button?”

His voice raised and his
hand went to his belly.

“
That’s private,” he
said.

Sure that he was lying,
Tanesha shook her head at him.

“
Think about it, T,” he
said. “Have I ever let you touch my belly button?”

Tanesha glared at
him.

“
No, but I will get one if
you want,” he said. “If I get one will you stay?”

Tanesha scowled at him. The
silence lagged for a few moments while the therapist thought
through everything.

“
I’m sorry,” the therapist
said “I’m not sure what to
say . . . ”

“
You know who has a tattoo
like that on his belly,” Jeraine nodded.

“
Who?” the therapist
asked.

“
Rodney Smith,” Jeraine
said. “Her father. You know, the one she didn’t tell me
about?”

“
I remember your anger
with Tanesha for her not sharing her father with you,” the
therapist said.

“
He has a forever tattoo,”
Jeraine said. “I saw it when we worked on her Gran’s sewer last
summer. It says ‘Forever’ in an arch over his belly
button.”

A small sob escaped
Tanesha’s mouth. Jeraine’s head jerked to look at her. Her eyes
were vague and her face ashen.

“
Tanesha?” the therapist
asked. “What’s going on?”

Reaching and scooting at
the same time, Jeraine pulled Tanesha onto his lap. He rocked her
back and forth like a child.

“
Shh, shh, it’s okay; it’s
okay,” he whispered over and over again.

Dumbfounded, the therapist
stared at them. One of Jeraine’s biggest relationship issues was
that he wasn’t nurturing. Tanesha almost always used anger to cover
her grief and sadness. But to look at the couple now, you’d never
know. Tanesha was sobbing and mumbling to Jeraine. His head was
down, ear next to her mouth, and he rocked her ever so
slightly.

“
I’m sorry,” Jeraine
looked up at the therapist. “We have to go.”

“
But . . . ” the therapist
said.

“
Miss T had some
remembrances come back and they are acting like a filter on a
camera,” Jeraine said. “She can’t see anything but them. She needs
to go home. She needs to rest and grieve.”

The therapist stood from
her chair. With Tanesha’s face pressed against his shoulder,
Jeraine guided his wife from the room. She heard the door to her
waiting room close behind them. Stunned, the therapist shook her
head and closed her office door. She was almost to her desk when
she recalled where she’d heard the phrase : “remembrances come
back.”

That psychic who worked on
Colfax. What was her name? She’d used the same phrase when talking
about the therapist’s life. The therapist flushed and opened
Jeraine and Tanesha’s file. She made a note to ask Jeraine when
they came back and put it out of her mind. But her embarrassment
lingered.

What was that psychic’s
name?

Chapter One Hundred and
Ninety-Six
In the car

Thursday afternoon — 4:15
p.m.

“
Dad?” Nash
asked.

“
Nash,” Aden
replied.

Aden glanced at his son.
He’d just picked Nash up from his orthodontist appointment and they
were on their way to Nash’s martial arts class.

Nash didn’t
respond.

“
Were you going to ask me
something?” Aden asked.

“
Yeah,” Nash said. “I
don’t know how to say it.”

“
I get like that,” Aden
said. “Is it something important?”

“
No, not really,” Nash
fell silent for a moment. “Well, kind of.”

“
What’s going on?” Aden
asked.

“
There was this guy, you
know, he got mad at his son for saying things about the family on
Facebook,” Nash said. “And he banned computers from the house –
forever.”

“
After he mocked his child
to the public on his son’s Facebook page,” Aden said.

“
Oh,” Nash asked. “You
heard about that?”

“
I did,” Aden
said.

“
They were talking about
it at the ortho and . . . ” Nash stopped
talking.

“
And?” Aden
asked.

“
Well,” Nash paused for a
moment before the words poured out of his mouth. “I have a Facebook
account, right? And you know, I
might
have posted something pretty
similar to what that guy posted and I
might
have complained about our life
and our family and I
might
have said some sort of similar things and I
wondered if you were going to make fun of me and get rid of my
computer.”

Nash paused for a
moment.

“
And iPhone,” Nash said.
“Because that would really suck.”

“
Which time?” Aden
asked.

“
Which time what?” Nash
asked.

“
Which time are you
referring to?” Aden asked. “Are you asking me if I’m going to get
rid of your computer over the last time you complained about having
to do your chores? The first time you complained about how lame
your parents were? The one about a month ago where you said that
Charlie hogged the bathroom because he was a dick? The time you
complained about being grounded?
Or . . . ”

“
Yeah, those,” Nash
blushed.

Aden chuckled.

“
So are you going to do
it?” Nash asked.

“
Do what?”

“
Get super mad, post stuff
to my account, and get rid of my computers.”

Aden laughed.

“
Why did you laugh?” Nash
asked. “I don’t know if that’s an evil laugh or an ‘I already got
rid of your computers’ laugh
or . . . ?”

“
In the first place,” Aden
interrupted Nash’s anxious rant. “I’m on probation. Violent attacks
on inanimate objects are frowned upon.”

“
Yeah, but who would
know?” Nash asked. “It’s not like Jake’s gonna tell or Mike. I mean
Mike is a crazy mof . . . um . . .
guy sometimes. And . . . ”

“
You’re worried I’ll
destroy your property,” Aden laughed.

“
This isn’t very funny,”
Nash said. “I bought my laptop with my own money that I made
working hard at Lipson. And Sandy
gave
me my phone because I worked
really hard to get caught up in school.
And . . . ”

“
Okay, okay,” Aden smiled
at Nash. “To answer your question: No, I have no plans to mock you
in public and take away your property.”

“
Oh,” Nash said.
“Why?”

“
Ask yourself this,” Aden
said. “Why haven’t you blocked me or Sandy from your Facebook
account?”

“
Because you told me you’d
delete my account if I did,” Nash said.

“
Respect,” Aden said. “You
respect me; and I respect you.”

“
Riiiiggghhht . . . . but saying all that
stuff and complaining isn’t very respectful,” Nash said. “That’s
why that guy was so mad. He felt disrespected.”

“
Disrespected isn’t a
word,” Aden said.

“
It’s not?”

“
No,” Aden
said.

“
Oh,” Nash said. “But I
still do it.”

“
Do what?”

“
Write disrespectful stuff
on my Facebook page,” Nash said.

“
Of course you do,” Aden
smiled.

“
Of course I
do?”

“
You’re thirteen,” Aden
said. “Thirteen year olds feel burdened by life and responsibility.
They complain to their friends about what they have to do. You
complain on Facebook. I complained on the telephone.”

“
Sandy said she never
complained,” Nash said. “I asked her if she complained when she was
my age. She said no.”

“
Sandy is unique,” Aden
said. “Think of her situation. She’d been living with her Dad for
three years when she was thirteen. Her life was a lot better than
it was before she met him. Would you complain?”

Nash was silent for a
moment.

“
I didn’t think so,” Aden
said.

“
Maybe I should be more
grateful,” Nash said. “That’s what Melinda’s father says. We kids
should be more grateful.”

“
Maybe you should be,”
Aden said.

“
I’m not very
grateful.”

“
You’re thirteen,” Aden
said. “There’s no question things haven’t been super easy for you
or Noelle. But you’re just starting your life. You don’t know
anything about anything.”

“
I know some
things.”

“
Okay,” Aden said. “Let’s
make a deal. When you’re my age, let’s answer the question of how
much you know now.”

“
You won’t tell Sandy,
will you?” Nash asked. “I really love her. A lot. And I’m really
glad she’s my Mom. You won’t tell her about my disrespectful
Facebook updates, will you? She’ll probably cry
and . . . ”

“
How do you think I know
about them?” Aden smiled. “Sandy checks your page every day. She
checks all you kids Facebook pages and your email.”

“
My email too?” Nash
looked horrified.

“
What did you think she
would do when you gave her your logins?” Aden asked.

“
I should change it,” Nash
said.

“
Do you trust
Sandy?”

“
Yes.”

“
Do you believe Sandy
loves you?”

“
Yes.”

“
She checks your page and
your email to make sure you’re safe,” Aden said. “That’s
all.”

“
But what about when I
disrespected her?”

“
You mean, when you
complained about her breast feeding Rachel on the living room
couch? And all your friends agreed that it was gross? That
time?”

“
Um.”

“
Does she still breastfeed
on the couch?”

“
Yes.”

“
Is it still
gross?”

“
Yes,” Nash said. “But
why . . . ?”

“
Because Sandy knows that
family-life is filled with things that make us uncomfortable. We
complain when we’re uncomfortable. That doesn’t mean anything has
to change. It just means that you’re uncomfortable.”

“
Oh,” Nash
said.

“
She’s not going to get
mad at you for complaining about the things that make you
uncomfortable,” Aden said. “That’s your job as a
teenager.”

“
I’m kind of an asshole,”
Nash said.

“
Only kind of,” Aden
smiled. “You could be a lot worse.”

“
Right, I could be
Charlie,” Nash said.

Aden laughed.

“
Actually, he’s okay,”
Nash said. “And really, everything’s okay. I like having Sissy and
Charlie living with us and I love Rachel and Sandy and Noelle
and . . . We’re okay.”

“
Glad you know that,” Aden
smiled. He pulled up to Colin Hargreaves’s house. “Love you
Nash.”

“
Yeah, whatever,” Nash
said and got out of the car.