Chapter 14: Ted
Ever since Brooke was sent to the emergency room I couldn't stop thinking "I want my mommy" I just couldn't bring myself to call her because the thought of a 25 year old grown man wanting his mommy just seemed pathetic and wussy and also I didn't know how to tell her that her daughter in law had a life threatening disease. I'm pretty sure she was under the impression that were both doing fine and why shouldn't she believe it? Whenever she called I right up told her that we were both doing fine.
She didn't know how many times Brooke was in and out of the hospital. When she called to say merry Christmas yesterday what was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to say "Merry Christmas Brooke has Lou Gehrig's Disease?"
I couldn't and I didn't. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her that I was calling from the hospital. When she asked what we were doing I told her we were at home enjoying the holiday season. I really panicked when she asked how Brooke was doing and even worse, asked if she could talk to her. I told her she was busy, which was a complete lie, unless you call lying in your sick bed busy.
Right now however I need to talk to her. Like I said, I'm a vulnerable little boy who needs his mommy. It's like I had a bad dream and need to crawl into my mommy's bed (Boy does that ever sound gaytarded) I wish I could say it's just a bad dream, I wish my mom could stroke my back and say,
"It's just a bad dream Teddy everything will be okay" the way she did when I was about 3 years old and came in crying about the monster under my bed, but this is not a bad dream, and everything is not going to be okay and I am not 3 years old, I am 25. Therefore a grown up, and if being a grown up means having to face reality then growing up fucking sucks. Unfortunately, when the taxi drove me home to collect Brooke's stuff, I panicked and left my cell phone at home, which was a really stupid thing to do on so many levels. Even more unfortunately there is a bit of a line for the phone's at the front desk that is if you call one other person in front of me a line.
"Hurry up" I moan to the patient who is talking for hours on end about her daughters recently diagnosed Crohn's Disease, and dietary needs and all that fun stuff that nobody wants to hear about. "Hey!" The receptionist hisses. She then points to the sign that reads,
"Be courteous when other people are using the phone" I fold my arms tightly across my chest, while the woman talks on and on about disgusting digestive problems. It's really hard for me to concentrate on what I'm thinking about saying to my mom with all that fucking racket. Just when I think she's going to hang up she begins talking about her new years eve plans. Finally I can not take it anymore.
"Shut up!" I snap.
"Excuse me" The woman says to the person she is talking to on the phone,
"What the hell is your problem?" She snaps. I feel bad and everything, but for some reason I just keep going, it is as if I am on cruise control or auto pilot or something along those lines.
"No one wants to hear about your daughters shit problems. No one wants to hear about her fucking bowel movements, or her lack of bowel movements, or her special diet and especially not about her fucking bowel obstruction." I am being such a dick right now I wish I could just strangle myself, but for some reason I can't stop. "I'm sorry you're daughter has Crohn's Disease" I say"That really sucks, oh no wait!" I say, "No I don't. Because my wife has Lou Gehrig's Disease. So I hope you forgive me" The woman just stands there blinking her eyes. She puts the phone up to her face again.
"I got to go" She says. "All yours" She says looking like she's been slapped with a whip.
"I' I'm sorry" I stammer. "I didn't mean it. Crohn's Disease, shit that's rough"
"Just take the phone" She says. "I' I'm sorry about your wife." She then scatters away. My hand shakes as I start dialing my mom's number.
"Hello" She says answering right away. "Mom It's me Ted" I say, I suddenly burst into tears, I am crying so hard I cannon stop shaking.
"Ted?" My mother asks, "What's wrong?" Deep sobs rack my body. "Honey?" My mom asks. "Are you all right?"
"It's Brooke!" I manage to get out. I pause for a long dramatic moment "She's very sick. She has Lou Gehrig's Disease"
"Oh my god" My mother says. "Ted I'm so sorry. When did you find this out?" I can hear tears in my mother's voice.
"Christmas eve" I tell her and sob and sob to high heaven, I can hear my mom doing the exact same. "Oh my god Ted" My mother says still crying.
"Why didn't you tell me? I called you yesterday and you said you were doing well." "I know mom" I say
"I didn't know how Mom" I sobbed. "I didn't know how." I sob and sob and sob
"Why don't you and Brooke have dinner with us tonight?" She suggests.
"We'd really like to see you guys, and it sounds like you two really need me"
"Thanks mom"
"I'll make something extra special for dinner" She says, and I know that it's probably going to be some weird vegan thing. I have never followed in my parents footsteps with the whole vegan thing and am never going to, of course luckily for me they didn't start becoming vegan until I left for college.
"Thanks ma" I tell her. "I'll let Brooke know"
Brooke is sitting on the bench listlessly. "So sorry about the wait" I tell her. "My folks want to see you"
"You told them?" She asks there is a hit of betrayal in her voice although I am not sure why.
"C'mon" I say grabbing her by the arm and helping her walk back to the car. As per usual these days we don't say a word to each other in the car, which is unfortunate because it is a bit of a drive to my parents house. They live a couple of suburbs away from Las Angeles, kind of on the outskirts of the town. The silence is killing me, but what is there to say? I expect Brooke to be crying, but she once again is not, she sits next to me in the passenger seat like a wooden doll. Not even blinking.
"I'm going to put on some music" I say. No response. "Do you want the oldies station?" No response. Her face looks almost wooden. She eventually turns her head to face out the window.
It is almost a relief in a strange way, it's the most human I've seen her in a while. We pull up in front of a tiny brick house. The house I grew up in, which I swear was barley big enough to hold three people. It is nothing like Brooke's white red doored mansion (Well okay maybe not mansion) But with at least three of four stories. My parents house is one story and let's just say very claustrophobic. The saddest part of the whole thing is that my parents are just as wealthy as Brooke's folks. They could have very well bought a four story mansion like the Shy's but instead they chose/choose to live like white trash (Well okay maybe a couple steps above white trash to be fair) They are definitely not in the same ball park as Kim and Brock who live in a trailer park, or even Scoonie who's family did not grow up in a trailer park, but a dumpy student apartment. Unlike myself Scoonie had to work his way into college, only to become a huge partier and never graduate. But the way my parents live could very well almost count as white trash. Anyway all the money they earn is used to put in their stupid "Rainy day" Fund (Yes my parents are that cheeseball)
My Mom is waiting for us on the brick steps outside the house. She stands up as soon as we get out of the car. She is a very tiny woman, I know for a fact that I am at least a foot and two inches taller then her. She is a real peanut of a woman. My mom throws her arms around Brooke. She does not throw her arms around me of course, but whatever, everyone's more upset about Brooke, and why shouldn't they be, she's the one with the disease, not me, but still it wouldn't hurt for some people to think about how I must feel being Brooke's husband. "
Brooke sweetie I'm so sorry. Are you doing all right honey?" Brooke shakes her head. "I'm so sorry I know how it is"
"Wait you do?" I ask. How could she possibly know what it feels like to have Lou Gehrig's Disease
"Well no" She half whispers to me, "But I know that's what I'm supposed to say right?"
"Wrong" I spout out. "You don't have Lou Gehrig's Disease" My mother suddenly looks embarrassed.
"I'm sorry Brooke" She apologizes, "I don't really know how it is but I am very sorry you're sick." Brooke stares down at the ground and shuffle's her feet. Clearly she has nothing to say.
"C'mon in" She says, "Dinner's on the stove. I made something extra special" I stare at my watch.
"Mom it's only 4:00"
"Oh Pish posh" My mom says. "It's 6:00 somewhere"
I roll my eyes unable to believe how damn square my mother is. I swear she used to be cool at one point, in a sorority just like Brooke. It used to be that "It's 6:00 somewhere in the world" was a euphemism for "let's get so wasted we won't know what's hit us" I worry for a half a second that, Brooke and I are going to become my parents only to realize that, that would be one of the better case scenario's. I have somewhat of an idea of what will actually become of us. I will have to play the roll of care taker and have no time on my hands, I will be angry and hateful all the time. We may even get a divorce. And she may have to live in a nursing home. Just the thought of that sends chills down my spine. I know for a fact that by the time Brooke and I get to be my parent's age, it will no longer be Brooke and I. Brooke will be long gone. I do not know too much about Lou Gehrig's Disease, most of my knowledge is based on information I got off of Google but I do know the life expectancy is not that long. Stephan Hawking is 75 years old, but I'm pretty sure the only reason he is still alive is because of science. I know very little about him. All I know is he's one of the smartest men alive and that he probably discovered or maybe even invented some way to keep himself alive. "C'mon in let's eat" my mom says I can't wait to see what kind of n concoction my mom has come up with, and I mean that in the most sarcastic way. I have stopped looking forward to my mother's cooking a long time ago.
My dad is quietly sitting on the couch reading the news paper.
"Ted your son and daughter in law are here" my mom says. My father in a very reserved manner sets his paper down. He is a very reserved man, at least he is now, when he was my age he was quite a lot like me, after all he is my namesake Robert Theodore Sanders. Of course like him I completely dropped the Robert part of my name, I was never Rob, or Robby or Bob or Bobby or anything like that. There was really no point to naming me Robert, my middle name was the name that mattered. I was never called Theodore I was always Ted or Teddy. As a matter a fact none of my friends know that I am a Robert. It is like my deep dark secret. The only time's I ever got called Robert were when I was in trouble which was unfortunately a lot. Also very fortunately I never got in trouble in front of my friends, which is quite unusual if you ask me. My father was also never a Robert or any other variation of that name. He was also Ted/Teddy and he was also like me in that he was dumb partier. I can not tell you what happened. I guess just with age my parents grew to be kind of for lack of a better word lame. But at least they are both alive and healthy which is more then I can say about Brooke and I when we reach our late adulthood. "Good to see you" He says.
"How are you holding up Brooke?" He asks. Brooke stares at my father but she does not speak.
"I think she's going through a great deal of shock Ted" Deb tells my father. The smells from the kitchen are a bit overwhelming. I'll admit it, I am terrified to find out what she is making.
"Dinner's on the stove" She says. As I follow her into the kitchen, I see a bit pot. I look into it and find some kind of soup with tiny pumpkins. I wrinkle my nose. "Fuck the actual what?" I ask.
"Hey" My father says evenly. "That's no way to talk to your mother now is it?"
"Sorry" I say,
"This is really weird Deb" My father says, "What is this"
"I call it Pumpkin Surprise" She says. "I found the recipe at our local food co op"
"Yeah surprise" I say managing a tiny smirk. It is no surprise whatsoever that there are pumpkins floating around the murky grayish broth. I don't want to come out sounding like a dick but I can't help myself. "How in the world are you supposed to eat that stuff?" I ask. My mother looks embarrassed. "Just put it your mouth and eat it" My father says. Then kind of smirks at his own for lack of a better word joke. My mother continues to look embarrassed as if she hasn't really thought about it. Apparently she hasn't considered it a choking hazard. Apparently she doesn't remember or else wasn't thinking about the whole wedding cake incident. "It has whole pumpkins in it for god's sake. "These are different" My mom explains, "These are minerature pumpkins, I didn't have to carve them or remove the seeds or anything"
I stare down at my bowl of soup as we all sit down at the table. Literally there is nothing to the soup besides pumpkins. Orange pumpkins and white pumpkins and red pumpkins. Who's ever heard of red pumpkins? My mother is the first to take a bite of her creation.
"Why it's delicious" She says taking a bite of the broth. It looks like it would taste like dirt. I reluctantly take a bite and have no idea what she's raving about, it doesn't taste like dirt but it also doesn't have any flavor. It needs some salt or some pepper or just some kind of spice. It basically just tastes like hot tap water from the faucet led not included, unless of course it is. The four of us sit around the table silently. Brooke hasn't touched her soup or even her silverware. Her arms are placed soldier style to her hips. Her chair isn't even pushed in far enough to the table.
"Brooke sweetie" My mother says, "Scoot in will you? Make yourself comfortable. Brooke stares into her lap. She suddenly starts shaking as if she are freezing cold. Her teeth begin chattering like crazy.
"You all right Brooke?" My dad asks. "You cold?" I wonder how on earth she could possibly be cold, it is winter and everything, but we live in California, it hardly ever get's cold in California, at least not in our part of California, today it is about 80 degrees out, and our house doesn't have an air conditioner, because my parents just don't believe in that kind of thing but on the other hand Brooke is skin and bones as a result of her illness. Maybe she get's cold more easily. "I'll turn the heat on" My mother says.
"Would you like the heat on?" Although my parents are against the whole air conditioning thing, they have no problem whatsoever with having a ventilated heater. Brooke gives my mother no response, but my mother turns the heat on anyway, which no one else at this table asked for, we're probably all going to die of heat stroke. Brooke suddenly let's out a loud singular sob, then another followed by a bunch more. I think I can guess what is happening, she is having a panic attack/nervous break down. She keeps sobbing while at the same time struggles to breathe. It is really disconcerting because it seemed just so unprovoked, aside from my mother turning the heat on, nothing really has happened during this family dinner. She can't possibly be crying because my mom turned the heat on, unless of course she is.
"Brooke sweetie?" My mother asks. "Are you all right honey?" Brooke continues to sob and hyperventilate. "What's the matter sweetie?" My mom asks. Brooke does not answer. Her hyperventilating sobs dissolve into uncontrollable normal sobs. Really, really loud ones. I hadn't seen her cry since, god damnit I can't even remember anymore. My mother touches her gently on the arm. "Would you like me to run you a hot bath?" She asks. I for one don't think that sounds like a good idea, she may drown. "I don't think so" I say, "We don't want her to drown. Someone's got to watch her" "I'll watch her" My mother says. "Would you like that Brooke?"
"Yes!" Brooke says through tears. I gotta hand it to my parents, despite being so stingy my parents do own a really nice bath tub big, tall, deep rectangular and ivory complete with jets and fancy bath accessories, quite a bit nicer than the bath tub Brooke and I have at our house. As soon as my mother helps Brooke to the bathroom and draws her a warm bath, I rush to turn the heat off, I would rather not die of heat stroke while visiting my parents. Brooke does not let up with her crying, she is sobbing very loudly along with the sound of running water. It may even be safe to say, it is echoing. Things always echoed like that from my parents bath tub, I guess maybe their is just something about the bath tub its self.