Read The Unexpected List (The List Trilogy) Online
Authors: Chrissy Anderson
“Was it Barney?”
“No, not Barney.”
Chrissy…you have to do this. Go.
“Daddy went to visit…your Mommy.”
Her eyes move slowly from the basket of fries to my eyes.
“Can I do that?”
“No sweetheart, you have to be invited.”
“By who?”
It’s okay, Chrissy. You can say it. It might help her. Whatever it takes…
“God.”
“Daddy talked to God?”
“I…think so.”
“What did God say?”
“No one will ever know for sure.”
“We can ask Daddy when he gets back!” Excited at the prospect of asking her Daddy what God said to him, she jumps up and down in front of me.
Scooping her up in my arms, I place her on my lap facing outward toward the creek so I don’t have to look at her anymore. I can’t.
Whispering in her ear, “The thing is Kendall, once God invites someone to Heaven, they have to stay.”
Physically feeling the excitement secrete out of her body, she timidly asks, “My Daddy…isn’t coming back?”
Squeezing her tighter and choking back my tears, “No, sweetheart. Kinda like Mommy, Daddy can’t come back. I know it makes it
really
hard for the people on Earth because we miss them so, so much, but one day we’ll get our invitations…” Well, probably not me. “And everything will make sense.”
Turning to face me, she pleads, “But, my Daddy didn’t say bye-bye.”
God damn it. Looking up at the star-dusted sky, I plead for Kelly’s help as Kendall begins to cry, “I want my Daddy! I want my Daddy!”
Pulling her into my chest and holding her as tight as I can, “I want him for you Kendall, and I’d do anything in the world to bring him back, but God has a super important job for Daddy…” Now holding her even tighter, “…And he has to stay there. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
Wiggling out of my grasp, she looks up at me with her quivering lips, “That job is more impotant din being wit me?”
Son of a bitch.
“No, no, no, Kendall! There’s nothing more important than that!”
Now inconsolable, she demands, “Then why did God inbite him to his house?”
Pulling her back into me so I don’t have to look at her, I answer like God’s got another thing coming when He/She/It meets me. “I promise you, Kendall, that’s the very first question I’m gonna ask when I get there.”
Kendall was barely three when her Mom died, and while Craig said it was awful for the first month after she passed away, Kendall seemed to get used to life without her pretty quickly. At first she’d sort of wander around the house looking for Mommy. When Craig tenderly reminded her that she was in Heaven, she’d throw a temper tantrum. But, Craig did an amazing job of showering Kendall with love and maintaining a secure environment for her and, as much as it pains me to admit, life went on. But, Kendall is a year older now. She turns four in two weeks. And, she’s a very emotionally in-tune child when it comes to the finality of death. When I told her that her Daddy died, she knew within seconds he was never coming back.
Getting Kendall to bed was excruciating. The poor child literally cried herself to sleep as I gently sang “Hush, Little baby” over and over again. Of course I made up every single line because I don’t know where the fucking diamond ring goes or when the God damn Billy goat gets bought (clearly I have a lot to learn in a very short time), and obviously I removed any reference to “Daddy” as being the one buying any of that crap. I stuck Ki-Ki in as a replacement. The only thing that persuaded me to slink away from Kendall’s worn-out sleeping body was the non-stop faint knock on my door. Peaking through my kitchen window, I’m relieved at the sight I’ve dreaded seeing here a few times in the past.
It takes me less than three seconds to break down at Kurt’s concerned face and not much more than that for him to comfort me. I’d do anything for his arms to be Leo’s, but since I can’t have those, I’ll take any that give a crap about me right now. After settling me onto the couch, he disappears to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a cup of tea.
“I hate tea, Kurt. Remember?”
“Look, I’m not trying to shove eggs down your throat. Just drink it, it’ll relax you.”
Taking a sip, I think…Damn, that is good. I’m not going to tell him though.
“I bought a box of that stuff when I was in Nepal last month. Good, right?”
“Nepal?”
Aged, worn out, and eyes swollen with pain, he answers…seemingly thankful for the short reprieve from talk of death.
“Yeah, I went there for some charity first-aid thing right after Kayla gave me the boot. Camped all over the country and helped people who have little or no access to medicine. Thought it would be nice to get away and at the same time, help people. Mount Everest was beautiful. Blew me away.”
Charities…mountains…camping. As if over a decade of my life came flooding back to irritate me, “God, Kurt, you have such a weird life.”
“If that’s not the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Yeah, I guess I don’t wanna go down that road, do I?”
The small talk was a nice distraction, but our tired and soft laughter causes Kendall to stir. After checking on her to make sure she’s okay, I return to the couch and to a fresh cup of tea. Staring into each other’s embattled eyes, we know what we really have to discuss.
“I almost don’t wanna know, but how did it go?”
“I can’t talk about it. Kurt…I’m so scared. How do I make this better for her?”
“I don’t think you can. It’s just gonna take time. Did Dr. Maria give you the name of a good children’s counselor?”
Bursting into tears again, “I forgot to call. Oh my God, I’ve only had her for five hours and I already suck at this.”
“Stop it, Chrissy. You don’t suck at this. You’re just in shock. We all are.”
Hugging me until I get control of my emotions, he takes another detour from what we should really be discussing.
“I need to apologize to you for that little display at the coffee shop. Maybe I was looking for some kind of closure. I don’t really know.”
Wiping my nose on his shirt, I mumble, “Isn’t that what the divorce was supposed to give you?”
“When did you get so funny?”
“Weird how my humor seems to show up at the most inappropriate time, huh?”
Ignoring me, he continues with his original thought.
“I just thought you deserved to hear how sorry I was about--”
Pulling away from him, my first instinct is to tell him to leave. I can’t go back to the horrible memory it took the greater part of my adult life to put behind me. But, at this very moment, he’s all I have and I’m too scared to be alone with my huge Kendall thoughts.
“You don’t have to be sorry about anything. I put myself in the irresponsible position to get pregnant and I’m the one who made the choice to make it go away.”
“But I shouldn’t have ignored it after it went away. I should’ve been there for you, and I guess I’m trying to--”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Kurt, I really do. But, and I mean this in the most sincere way…if I still wanted something from you, I’d still be married to you. For me, divorce was the end of my expectations.”
Slowly nodding his head, “When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart, I just needed to grow up.”
Looking around the quiet cottage he asks the awkward question I just knew was coming.
“So when’s he coming back?”
“All right, down boy. He’ll be here when I need him.”
“You do know that I have every right to be pissed off about what happened.”
“Yeah, I do, and I think I reminded you of that at the coffee shop. But, be pissed at me. Leave him out of it.”
“That’s a little easier said than done.”
Pointing to the bedroom, “This isn’t the right time to be talking about this stuff.”
Would telling him right now that I’m engaged be a bad idea? Maybe he just needs to hear it. Maybe that’ll put an end to these uncomfortable conversations that seem to pop up whenever we’re around each other.
“I didn’t come here to upset you, Chrissy.” Somberly rubbing his worn out face, “I’m just a mess right now. He was my fucking best friend, you know…”
Yep, it’d be a bad idea.
Putting my hand on his knee, “I know
exactly
what you feel like right now.”
“Jesus, that’s right. Looks like we have more in common now than we ever did when we were married, huh?”
It’s morbid…but, it’s kinda true.
“Are you gonna be okay tonight, Kurt?”
Without looking at me, he says, matter of factly, “No.” Then he gathers up his leather jacket and tosses the box of tea to me. “Take it easy on that stuff. It’ll put you to sleep for a week if you’re not careful.” Before he walks out the door, he turns and says, “I wanna help Kendall through this too. Call me first thing after you talk to Dr. Maria. I promise, you’re not alone this time.” And then he ever so gently shut the door behind him so as to not wake her.
Bawling Brawling
January, 2002
Turns out Craig had been taking Xanax to manage the anxiety and depression that developed when Kelly got sick. And, it turns out, when Kelly died, he started popping those things like I used to pop St. Johns Wort…like tic-tacs. Surprisingly, his blood alcohol level wasn’t nearly as high as Kurt assumed it was when he left Palo Alto that day and it most likely wasn’t the sole cause of him ramming that other car from behind. What probably did him in was the lethal combination of alcohol
and
Xanax. The coroner’s judgment was that Craig unexpectedly fell asleep from the concoction. This was the information Courtney was giving to me as the handful of guests started to arrive for Craig’s memorial.
Craig was very clear after Kelly died that when he kicked the bucket he didn’t want a big funeral like she had. Sitting in the pew and staring at her coffin made him physically sick, and he said he could never put anyone, especially Kendall, through something like that. He wanted to be promptly buried next to Kelly, no big shoveling ceremony, no eulogy, and no hanging around the casket and crying. When they were sitting around drinking beers one night, he told Kurt, “When I go, I want a good old fashioned barbeque at my house and if anyone starts bawling, kick em’ out.” No one would’ve ever thought it would come so soon.
After hugging Craig’s decrepit mother, I glance over at his picture. It’s been one week since he died. The morning after I told Kendall the news, I woke up very early to call Dr. Maria. For the first time ever, I used the special number she gave to me years ago in case of an absolute emergency. While I certainly felt like I went through a lot of code reds during my years with her, I could never justify calling the number with any of my problems. I always felt like the line should be kept open for the Sad Frumpy Ladies of the world. Staring at my haggard and make-up-less face in the mirror as the line rang that morning, I thought…there’s one. Her voicemail picked up and in as loud of a whisper I could muster up so as not to wake Kendall, I got right to the point.
“It’s me, Chrissy Anderson. Kelly’s husband has died, and I have their daughter in my possession. I told her about her daddy yesterday, and it didn’t go so well. I need to see a children’s counselor right away. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I need to know fast.”
Within five minutes of hanging up the phone, it rang again and it was a child psychologist. Dr. Maria heard my message, contacted the best one she knew and told her to call me immediately. Our conversation was brief. She identified herself as Dr. Vikki Ester and told me to bring Kendall to her that afternoon and to not let her out of my sight.
Kendall was quiet as we got ready to go to Dr. Ester’s office. I could tell she was wondering, “What happens to me now,” but she doesn’t have the vocabulary to express those kinds of big thoughts. I wanted to put her mind at ease and promise her that I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life, but without knowing the exact details of Craig and Kelly’s will, I knew I couldn’t make that promise. I just kept hugging her and told her I loved her.
I called Kurt on the way to the psychologist’s office, and as promised, he joined us. Dr. Ester directed Kendall to a toy room that magically made her happy and she directed the “grown-ups” to a different room to talk. When the psychologist referred to me as a grown-up, I literally froze. Wasn’t I the one who just four years ago met a twenty-one-year-old guy at a bar and tried to take his pants off in my car? Wasn’t I the one who used to hack into that guy’s voicemail account and sabotage his plans to hook up with other girls? Wasn’t I the one who, up until I was thirty-years-old, pretended my name was Prudence, Maude, Guadalupe, and Nell? Wasn’t I the one who verbally assaulted Kurt and Boobs outside of my old house in Danville while my neighbors watched?
How can someone as psychotically challenged as me be called a grown-up?
Furthermore,
can
someone as psychotically challenged as me be a good mother to Kendall?
“Chrissy, you coming?”
Kurt motioned for me to sit down next to him so the “grown-ups” could get started. After instructing us to call her Dr. Vikki because it’s more casual for the children, she went on to tell us how she thinks Kendall will react over the next month or so, and then she gave us an action plan to deal with it. The bottom line is we have to provide her with a stable routine, keep things calm and shower her with love. She recommended I bring as many of Kendall’s belongings to my cottage as I could and keep the illusion of a really long sleepover going for as long as possible. Illusions are definitely something I have experience with creating, so no problem there. Everyone’s hope is that we can determine guardianship as soon as possible to provide Kendall with long-term stability as quickly as possible. But, when Kurt’s cell phone rang during the meeting with Dr. Vikki and it was the attorney, “as soon as possible” went out the window.
“Well, what did he say?”