Chapter 17 – Doing it Alone
Bram and Zeke eat grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch at the café and fall asleep in the car on the way home. I carry them in one by one and put them in their bed, then go back to the car for a hungry Holly who is, by then, screaming. Three babies under a year…it's going to make a big difference when two of them learn to walk.
Esme calls out to me from the kitchen. "Is she hungry? I'll heat up a bottle for you."
I change Holly's diaper and then slump onto the sofa, taking the bottle Esme brings in to me. "Thanks."
Esme brings in a cup of tea and then settles into the sofa next to me with a sigh. "How did it go?"
"The boys had a great time," I say, adding a little gruffly. "It was a good idea; you were right to shove me out."
Esme smiles and pats my thigh. "I thought it would do you all good. I remember how much Noah and Mac always enjoyed baby gym."
"The house looks great too," I say, looking around and noticing how clean and tidy everything is. "You've been busy."
"I did a big clean in here and in the kitchen and the kids' bathroom," Esme tells me. "I changed the sheets on all the kids' beds too. I haven't got to your room or bathroom though, so this afternoon…"
"You don't have to do it," I mumble. "And I'm sorry, I know I'm not doing everything that I need to, I just…"
"You don't need to apologise. I know how difficult it is, and you're doing a wonderful job." Esme hesitates. "But Emmett…I do think we're going to have to start thinking about the future, and making some plans. The way things are right now isn't really sustainable in the long term. Holly is getting bigger and needs more stability than being passed around between houses with no routine anywhere."
I swallow hard, staring down at Holly as she drinks her milk. "Yeah, I know."
"I'm not saying you have to do everything all by yourself," Esme says gently. "Everyone is more than willing to help you. But we do need to make some decisions. Have you thought about going back to work?"
I think about what I'm going to do every day. But every day…I can't bring myself to make plans, because that means I have to admit that she's really gone. Sometimes it feels like it takes everything I have just to stand up and keep breathing.
"I have to go back to work," I say at last. "I want to go back anyway, I miss it, but we're also going to need the money. I mean I'm all right for now, since Jack sorted all the financial shit out. The life insurance is enough to pay Alice what I still owe her for her half of the house and leave a chunk afterwards, and I'm getting social security survivor benefits for the kids and regular payments from Rosalie's retirement accounts, so no one's going to go hungry. But I've got six kids and the oldest is only eight…that's a hell of a lot of years of school fees and gymnastics lessons and dental work that I'm going to have to pay for." I bite my knuckles. "I can make okay money tattooing, but childcare has always been the issue."
Esme nods. "Okay, so we have to work out the best childcare arrangements to facilitate you working, in terms of affordability and convenience. I think we need to look at how we're going to manage the housework and laundry here too – perhaps make up a regular chore routine, and look into a cleaning service." She pulls out her phone and taps a few notes in to it, and then looks over at me and smiles lovingly. "Sweetheart, it's going to be okay. I love you and the kids, and I love looking after you all. I'm not going to abandon you. But I'm getting older, and full time care and housework for your household as well as mine is getting to be a little much. I'm just looking for a way to make everyone's lives easier."
I lift Holly up against my shoulder, rubbing her back until I hear her little milky belch in my ear. Once the gas is out she sighs and relaxes, going limp as she drifts off to sleep.
"And I'm sorry if this feels a little bit like I'm laying it all on you today, but you need to think about the little twins' birthday," Esme says apologetically. "I've let it slide before because I know you didn't want to think about a celebration right now, but it's their first birthday and we have to do something. Maybe just a cake and some presents at our house? I'm happy to do some shopping if you give me the go ahead. But there's also Christmas coming up…have you thought about that at all?"
I turn and kiss the side of Holly's head so that Esme won't see my face. "There are gifts for Bram and Zeke's birthday in the top shelf of my closet. Rosalie bought them…before. She wanted to be organised, so she didn't have to worry about their birthday in the first few weeks with the new baby. There are some Christmas gifts that she bought too, hidden in the basement, but I don't know what's there or what she still meant to buy…" My voice cracks.
Esme hugs me, wrapping both me and Holly into her motherly embrace. "Milestones like birthdays and special occasions like Christmas are always going to be hard," she says softly. "We just have to try our best to get through it. I'll call in at the bakery tonight and order a cake for each of them, and we can have a little family get-together on the weekend. Why don't you put Holly in her bassinet and we'll go and look for the presents and see what you've got? We can get Daisy and Mac and Noah to write Christmas lists after school to give us some more ideas about what else to buy."
Holly stays asleep as I carry her into my room and lay her in her bassinet. Esme follows me, nearly tripping over the pile of clothes that I have heaped up by the door.
"Sorry," I mutter. "They're clean, I just haven't been putting them away…I don't really like going into the closet that much, with all Rosalie's things there…" My voice fades away and I feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
Esme pats my arm. "If you want me to clean out the closet, you only need to ask. Even if we just move it into storage for a little while."
I just shake my head, and before I can say anything else my phone rings. I grab for it, but I'm not quick enough to avoid waking Holly who cries in protest. I leave Esme resettling her with her pacifier and head into the living room to take the call.
"Emmett? This is Leo Hyland, from Camden Junior. I'm calling about McCarty."
The principal. My stomach falls. "Mac? Is he okay? Did he hurt himself?"
"Don't worry, he's okay. But he's had a bit of a rough afternoon, and I was wondering if you could come down to the school and have a chat?"
"Sure. I'll just sort out the babies and be right over." I hang up and go back to my room, where Esme has picked up Holly and is rocking her back to sleep. "That was the school," I tell her, biting my knuckles. "Something with Mac…he's not hurt, but the principal wants to talk to me. Are you okay to stay here with the little ones?"
Esme nods. "Of course. Go and see what you can do for Mac."
Visits to the principal's office were definitely not an unfamiliar event when I was a kid at school, but I haven't been called in as a parent before. Even so I feel the same sense of impending doom as I always did as I walk up to the front office of Camden Junior School.
"I'm Emmett Cullen," I tell the person on reception. "I had a call about my kid, Mac…"
"Emmett, hi." An older man, wearing jeans and a casual sweater, comes out of an office and shakes my hand vigorously. "I don't think we've ever met properly. I'm Leo Hyland. Call me Leo. Thanks a lot for coming down."
I return his handshake. "Yeah, hi. Is Mac okay?"
"He's all right. Having a bit of time out in the yurt right now…come into my office for a minute so we can talk."
Yurt? I follow him into his office and take a seat, while he sits across the desk from me.
"I want to say sorry again," Leo begins. "I met Rosalie a number of times, and it's a terrible loss. We understand what a tough time this is for your kids, and we've been keeping a special eye on them here at school. Laurie Ramirez in the third grade tells me Daisy is thriving; she talks about her mom a lot and she can get a bit tearful and upset, but her schoolwork has been good and she has a solid little group of friends behind her. In the kindergarten Ben Cohen has some concerns about Noah's anxiety, but he's coping okay and he seems like a really bright kid. Mac though…Vivi Allen says he's struggling." Leo hesitates. "Academically, there are some issues. You've probably realised that."
Rosalie and I used to joke that with the big twins we got one each. I got Mac, with his curly dark hair and solid McCarty shoulders, his impulsive nature and penchant for trouble. Rosalie got Noah, with his chiselled cheekbones and fair hair, his single-minded determination and perfectionism. We'd laughed about it when they were younger. It had been less funny when they started school and we realised that it went deeper than that, with Noah practically reading by the end of the first week while Mac was writing his letters backwards and scowling blankly over his sight words. Now, hearing that he's only six months into kindergarten and already falling behind turns my stomach. I spent from kindergarten to twelfth grade struggling to learn, failing more often than not, and hating school. I never wanted that for my kids.
"We do his reading and his homework sheets every night," I mutter. "My mom and dad are helping out a lot and someone goes through it with him. But I know he's not catching on like Noah is."
"That's okay. His teacher has been aware of this for a while, and we're not ignoring that Mac might need some extra help. But his emotional state and his behaviour are the bigger concern right now." Leo sighs. "We've been talking about calling you in for a conference but thought we'd give it until after Christmas break. We hoped it would give Mac more opportunity to settle down, and we're aware that the holiday season is going to be hard for all of you – we thought you didn't need something else to worry about. But Mac got into a fight at lunchtime today, and we can't really let that go."
I shove my hands under my thighs so I won't start biting on my knuckles. I hate what losing their mother has done to my big boys. I hate the changes that I've seen in the past few weeks; Noah growing ever more anxious and clingy, Mac increasingly sullen and moody. "So, what happened? You said Mac's okay – is the other kid all right?"
"Yes, it didn't get too far," Leo says. "They were playing outside, got into an argument and Mac went for him. A teacher was nearby and broke it up, the other student went to the nurse's office for an ice pack and then went back to class, and I was called to deal with Mac. He was pretty distraught."
"I'm sorry. He knows better than to fight." I shrug helplessly. "It's not really like him, but ever since… he hasn't been himself."
"Vivi says the same thing. She was really happy with the way Mac settled into school when he started kindergarten; he has a lot of energy, but he was happy and enthusiastic and always tried his best. However, his classroom behaviour has deteriorated a lot – he's angry and defiant and uncooperative and there have been a number of outbursts. Today's was the worst. This is all understandable and we're not looking to punish him at all, but I think we need to do something to get him back on track," Leo says.
"We're trying," I say, hoping I don't sound too defensive. "I don't know…my dad organised a couple of sessions with a grief counsellor for the kids , Mac didn't really take to it but I can try and make that ongoing if you think it would help…"
"I think some counselling would be good," he says. "You've met our school counsellor Liz Chapman, haven't you? She's very good, very experienced. Mac's in her office right now. If you agree, I'll talk to her this afternoon about her seeing Mac on a regular basis for a little while here at school. Then you won't have to organise appointments, or pay any extra costs. We can see how that goes before we jump into behaviour contracts and that kind of thing with him, what do you think?"
He waits until I nod before he continues. "I think you should take him home today. It's not a punishment, but he was very overwrought and letting him take the afternoon to reset and come back to school fresh tomorrow is probably best. He'll be on restrictions at lunchtime for the rest of the week –this is not so much a punishment, but something we use as a bit of a diversion for kids who might be having a tough time in various ways. We get the kids to help a teacher with a project of some kind, something to keep them occupied and out of trouble…does Mac like nature? We can put him in the science room helping take care of the animals there, or maybe outside on garden detail. Or art? Vivi says he's great at drawing, there might be something we can do with him in the art room…I'll ask him and see what he says. Kids usually respond better to choices. Again, I want to really emphasise that none of this is about punishing Mac, and we need to make sure he understands that too. No one's angry. He's a great little kid who's going through something that any adult would find difficult, and we all just want to help him get through it."
"Thanks," I say hoarsely. "He's really a good kid…I mean, he can't sit still and if there's trouble within a mile radius he's going to find it, but…he's a good kid."
Leo laughs. "He is. He just needs a little extra attention and support right now, and that's fine. And for you too Emmett, please think of the school as a resource that you can call on if you need it. Camden is a community as much as a school…the very fact that you and Rosalie were students here yourselves and are now sending your kids here says a lot. But if there's anything we can do – our counsellor will be more than happy to see Daisy and Noah too, and we've got before and after school care programs that you can access if you need childcare. I realise that you've also just become a single income family too, and we do have fee relief and assistance programs available if that's an issue. I'll make sure the application forms go out with your next semester's invoice."
"Thanks," I say again. "I appreciate it. We're still kind of figuring everything out."
"It's a big adjustment," Leo agrees. "Let's go down to Liz's office and see how Mac's doing now."
The school counsellor's office is spacious, or would be if a third of it wasn't taken up with a round tent. Apparently when the principal said Mac was having time out in a yurt he meant it literally.
"Kids love the yurt," he tells me cheerfully. "Nice, quiet space for them to calm down in."
The entrance flap is drawn back and I stoop down a little to peer inside. It's lit by a string of fairy lights and is full of soft cushions and kid-sized beanbags, as well as a basket of books and small sensory toys. It looks so inviting and relaxing I wouldn't mind having some time out in there myself.
Mac's scrunched into a beanbag, his thumb in his mouth and his other hand playing with a Slinky, the counsellor sitting cross-legged beside him. As soon as he sees me he drops the Slinky and scrambles across the tent, flinging himself at me. "Daddy!"
I wrap my arms around him, so tight that I have to force myself to ease up before I hurt him. "It's okay buddy."
"I'm sorry!" Mac's shoulders are heaving with sobs, and I can't understand another word he says.
My eyes sting with tears. God, I love my scrappy little boy, and fuck but I wish Rosalie was here to help me with him!
"It's all right Mac, it's all right…I love you. It's all right."
Liz Chapman smiles at me sympathetically. "Hi Emmett. Mac and I have just been having a little chat and getting to know each other, haven't we Mac? He's having a hard day."
"I hit someone," Mac sniffles. "I punched him as hard as I could."
"Yeah, I know." I pat his back. "Mr Hyland told me about it. You know that wasn't the right thing to do."
Mac nods dolefully. "Are you mad?"
"No one's mad at you," Leo jumps in. "We know that you've been feeling pretty angry and pretty sad lately, and we want to help you feel better so that you don't want to punch people. Your dad and I thought maybe you'd like to go home early today, and now that you and Ms Chapman have met each other you might like to be one of her friends. You could come in here sometimes and have a break from school and talk to her about anything you want."
Mac's face contorts with misery. "I miss my mom."
Sweet fucking hell kiddo, I miss your mom too.
"It's really hard to lose your mommy," Liz says gently. "I'd like it if you came and visited me here in my office sometimes, and maybe we could talk about that."
"I think that's a good idea Mac, yeah?" I run a hand through Mac's curls. He looks tear-stained and exhausted, and once again I feel the enormity of being the one holding his fragile little heart.
