Safe Passage
Prologue
I stared at the question for a long time. 'In one sentence tell us who you are.' I just kept staring. Only one answer came to mind. 'I am the mother of seven sons.'
Funny, I never wanted children. Yet at twenty and newly married I found myself pregnant. My husband Pacey was ecstatic. I was lost. Nine months later my first son, Gabriel was born.
In the first year I had meant to resume school, sell a painting, find us a more suitable home, go on the pill. Somehow I just never found time. Before I knew it I was taking care of an infant and pregnant for number two. Number two would be my son Riley.
I love each and every one of my boys. I'm sure I would be good friends with them had I had one spare moment between raising them. Each time I lay eyes on my sons I feel a certain guilt. Guilty that I had never wanted this life. Guilty because they never really got a moment alone to know me. Guilty because I could remember putting them in a playpen even though they fussed, turning up the music and painting. A mother's guilt is unique and sharp.
As I sit in a room full of fresh faced college kids as old as, if not younger than Gabe or Riley, I think of these things. The question on my Social Work/Civil Service Exam had been, 'In one sentence tell us who you are.' Forty seven years on this earth and I could only find one sentence to describe a person I thought was much more complex. After forty five minutes of staring I finally wrote, 'I am the mother of seven sons.'
Joey...
The flash in my dream disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. I woke up sweating with my heart racing. Something was wrong. Pacey always hated my premonitions. He would certainly hate knowing that I had just had one. I knew the moment I woke up that one of my boys was in trouble.
The last premonition I had was about Riley, years ago. I remembered I ran from bed and got in my car. I drove his paper route in the snow. It was then I found him on the side of the road. He had fallen and broken his ankle.
I had that same feeling now. Quickly I leapt from my bed and went down the hall to Simon, my baby's room. He was sound asleep. Breathing became a little easier. It was only quarter to five, I could not and would not call the boys on a Sunday morning until nine a.m.
Knowing I'd never get back to sleep I put on a pair of jeans, old sweatshirt and boots. I needed to stay busy until nine a.m. Work was found piled outside in the drive. The Capeside Banner was delivered in bulk to my home for years now. Each one of my sons had the same paper route in our neighborhood.
On the floor of the cold garage I knelt and began to rubberband the paper and slip it into plastic sleeves. Rain had beseeched Capeside for over a week now.
Finally I stood, finished with the papers. My legs were stiff and my back a little sore. I stretched realizing I wasn't young enough to be crawling around on the cold concrete of the garage anymore.
"Simon," I called upstairs to him. "It's almost six, you're gonna be late if you don't move." A loud thud and some rustling came from upstairs. I started myself a pot of coffee and placed a mug next to it for when I got home.
"Shit ma, I'm gonna be late." Sixteen year old, Simon hurried to put his coat on. "Why didn't you get me up?"
I trailed him outside. "First, watch your mouth. I let you sleep, I bundled them myself."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know but I couldn't sleep. I had one of my premonitions."
Simon rolled his eyes. "So which one of us is it?"
"I don't know." I sighed as we filled two canvas bags with papers and put the rest in my Volvo station wagon. We buckled up and drove to the beginning of the route. "At first I thought it was you but you're okay. It's Gabriel." I suddenly knew.
Twenty four year old, Gabriel made breakfast with his girlfriend, Beth. Her two sons were sound asleep. He couldn't resist kissing her neck. The one kiss caused a chain reaction of kisses. With one movement the table was cleared and he laid Beth down.
The puddles were deep and the earth soft and mushy. Simon and I started on the middle of Miller's Circle, a cul-du-sac. As I threw the paper on the porches of hte neat homes my mind raced. So maybe it wasn't Gabe. "Riley," I whispered to myself, thinking aloud.
Twenty three year old, Riley looked down at the small puppy. His eyes were sad and the puppy's in the other cages barked loudly. Working part time at the pound was taking its toll on him. He had been unable to put any of the animals asleep. Looking down at this cute pup he sighed, "Ok, you win." Riley put him back in the cage.
A voice urged be back to reality and away from my thoughts. "Simon, Simon is that you?" An old woman called.
"No, it's Simon's mother." I called putting a smile on my face.
The old woman walked out onto her porch. "So Simon's got you out on this cold morning."
"I don't mind it." I handed the paper to her.
"Twins used to deliver my paper."
"Yes, those are my sons too. Have a nice day." I headed back down the drive and onto the next house. That must be it, "The twins."
Jacob and Jonas slept in on this cold Sunday morning. Soon they would get up, have breakfast and head to the library on campus at University of Vermont.
The canvas bag got progressively lighter. It felt so much better on my old bones. As my mind drifted in and out of thought I heard barking in the background. The barking got louder as I stopped walking ahead. I turned to look back at Simon.
The dog from hell that had bit him once before was hot on his tail. "Mom," he yelled out to me. I ran toward him and the dog. Quickly I threw a newspaper in its direction and it hit the dog in the head.
"Buttercup, come here right now Buttercup." A man yelled in the distance and the dog scampered away.
"That dog nearly attacked my son." I screamed in his direction ready to attack myself. "He bit him once already. There is a leash law you know."
He ignored what I had just said. "Where's my paper?"
Now I was angry. "You want your paper?" I slid it out of the plastic sleeve and dropped it into a large puddle. "There's your goddamn paper."
"You're supposed to leave it on the porch."
"When you put that dog on a leash you'll have your paper on the porch."
"I'm gonna complain."
"Be my guest asshole." I smiled walking away with Simon.
"Language mother." Simon laughed.
"One more word and I'll feed you to Buttercup myself. Let's go home."
Walking into the warm house I heard the televison on the kitchen counter on. An aerobics class was being taught by a bouncing blonde with large breasts. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Pacey sat at the counter and a kettle was on the stove.
"Hey dad." Simon said going straight for a box of Cheerios.
"Hey kid. How's the paper route?"
"Okay."
"Pace, what are you doing here?" I asked as I stripped out of my first layer of clothes.
"I was wondering where that coat was." He said as I took off his old beige coat.
"Pacey the question was what are you doing here?"
"I live here Jo." He sighed getting up and pouring hot water into my mug.
"No Pace, in fact you don't. We're separated remember?"
"Not legally and where am I supposed to stay, my office?" He asked as he dunked his tea bag into his water exactly six times and then throwing the bag behind him into the sink.
"Do what all separated men do and get an apartment." Annoyed with my husband already, I pulled the tea bag out of the sink. "For over twenty five years you've been making yourself tea and then throwing the bag in the sink. Who do you think removes your tea bag and puts it into the trash? The tea bag fairy?"
Pacey was ignoring me and watching the bouncing aerobics women with Simon. I wanted to slap him silly. Something inside of me had been waking up. Finally I realized I needed time away from Pacey. I planned on moving Simon and I out of the house and taking a job in Boston as a social worker. I didn't really need all this room anymore, all of the boys with the exception of Simon were out of the house. I had no need to live in Capeside when I could go to Boston and do what I always wanted to do. Yet Pacey still wanted to hold me back. He was content living the same lives we led almost our whole existence.
The loud beat of the exercise show was pounding in my brain and making me more and more irritated. I stood in front of the set about to turn it off as Simon and Pacey protested. Between their cries I heard a special news bulletin. Standing back I watched some random, weekend news anchor appear.
"This is an NBC Special Report. Forty-three Marines and fifteen French soldiers are dead this morning after a dawn explosion at the Beirut airport where the American contingent of the multinational peacekeeping force..."
"That's where Holden is," Jo said feeling panic creep into her bones.
"Shh," Pacey said as he turned his attention back to the screen.
"The blasts apparently occurred when a terrorist suicide force drove into the two buildings with trucks loaded with explosives. Preliminary reports indicate that the blast leveled the first story administration building where an undisclosed number of Marines were sleeping. Other Marines housed in a nearby barracks..."
"That's not supposed to be a war zone. Does he live there? Did he say anything like that to you?" I looked for answers in Pacey's face.
He was pale. "I have no idea. I only have a box address for him. Stay calm Jo, okay." He went to the phone and looked at the directory beside it. A few moments later he was talking to someone.
"Do you think he's okay?" Simon asked with a worried look on his face.
Did I think he was okay? No. I thought my son was dead. I knew because I had never wanted children that God was punishing them for my wishes. When Simon was born with a hair lip, when Riley broke his ankle or when Gabe nearly died of a high fever and now I knew that I could never fully protect them. I couldn't protect them because I had never wanted them. Some mothers could do it all, I could only pray for my sons' safe passage through life.
"Mom, do you think that Holden is okay?"
I lied. "Yes, I hope he is."
For the next forty-five minutes we all sat stunned around the small tv set waiting for the anchor to feed us any new information. Pacey got up and made some phone calls. Simon pulled out his lap top searching for the latest new via the internet. I was lost in a world of my own. I grabbed my old painting shirt and retreated to my "studio." With one touch of a button music filled the room so loud that I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. There I waited for someone to tell me, tell me that my misunderstood boy was laying dead in another country, millions of miles from his family.
Holden was obviously named after Holden Caulfield from Catcher In the Rye. I should have never named him that, beside having me for a mother, this town saw both of his names as a bad sign, Holden Witter. He had tried hard to be everything we wanted him to be. My other six sons were all on the fast track to greatness. I think it took Holden a little longer to realize what he was meant for. When he was eighteen he had come to me, he wanted to join the military with James Parker, Jen's son. At first I was reluctant. It was Pacey who made me see that maybe a change of scenery was exactly what Holden needed. So could this be technically made Pacey's fault?
Pacey had once been so much like Holden. That was until he grew up a little and we fell in love. There was nothing like that for Holden. It was funny to me that they were so much alike yet Pacey had little understanding why almost of all of our boys seemed perfect and Holden had to defect from the group by not being as academically inclined or so versed in social graces. When Holden took up track in high school Pacey was very supportive. Then Holden had gotten his brother, Bailey involved in track also. Suddenly it became obvious who the track star was going to be and it wasn't Holden. I guess that left him looking to find his place in this large family. Pacey and I were Mom and Dad. Gabriel, the oldest, wisest, a school teacher. Riley, intelligent yet artsy, yearning to become an architect. Bailey was the track star at Cornell University. Jacob and Jonas, they were the twins. Simon was the baby, the computer genius. Holden had felt as though he'd had nowhere to belong, no place. What he never realized was that he was special, always in my heart just because he was so like Pacey. He made me reflect back on my youth and he made me love Pacey even more than I did.
Pacey...
The news about Holden sent me into a tailspin. How was it at all possible that my son could be dead somewhere in the middle east while I sat comfortably in our home or whatever Jo was calling it these days. It made me think to all of the things I had ever said to him. I had to stop though because slowly I started to begin to feel like my own father.
I called the boys and told them what was going on. I knew Jo would need Gabriel who had long served as her second in command. Besides they should all hear it from me and not from some Ted Koppel wannabe on televison.
I sat on the couch drinking my tea. Tea drinking, a side effect from living with Doug for so long. I looked around at the clutter surrounding me. There were boxes half full and labeled. It showed the signs of Jo's threat that she was moving to Boston was perhaps not so hollow. There had been a time we lived in a cramped apartment while I was employed fixing up boats at the Capeside Yacht Club. Gabriel was a baby and Riley was on the way. We dreamt of a home, a real place to raise our family. Our dream was realized when Gail and Mitch Leery moved to Miami to open their fifth Leery's Fresh Fish Restaurant. We were able to mortgage their home and make it our own.
We had worked so hard on making the Leery residence into the Witter home. After nearly 22 years in this house and almost 30 together she was willing to leave it behind. I realize that I'm not the easiest individual to live with but she should realize she's not either. In the last 24 years I don't think we had spent 24 hours alone with each other or apart.
I love my sons. They have become our world. But I do remember a time when Joey and Pacey were this fairytale. Now I know what happens after the tale ends, after 'they lived happily ever after.' Joey told me she felt stifled. I've always tried to support her decisions, encourage her. Hell, I'm the man who bought her a wall but to pack up our lives and move to Boston. I hardly think that is the smartest thing to do.
I'm 47 years old, still living in Capeside. I've finally made peace with my demons. Customized by Witter the premier yacht, customizing company is now in full swing. I'm successful at last in the eyes of this community. My boys are all healthy and doing well...
Holden. The thorn in my side. The very reason I'm dredging up the past now. Holden. One of my boys is lost and alone. He has been that way for a very long time. Now he is miles from our home and I'm helpless. I've always been told about my hero complex. I don't give a shit about who is the hero, I just wanted to protect him from a world that has never been fair for men like us. If God lets him come home, I swear I will tell him that. I will wrap my arms around him and tell him that.
The front door opens. "Dad, have you heard anything more?" Gabriel asks out of breath as he rushes into the house. His girlfriend Beth and her two blonde children in tow.
I shake my head. "No." I groan as I lift my tired body from the couch and head to the kitchen. "Beth can I get you some tea?"
"Yeah, let me come help you with that." Beth followed Pacey into the spacious kitchen.
"Where's mom?" Gabe asked looking to Simon.
"Where do you think?" Simon sighed as he stared intently at something on the screen of his laptop.
Gabe should have known better than to ask. He could hear the music blaring. There was really nothing like coming home to the Witter Ward as he so affectionately called it. He walked back toward his mother's "studio" that was in fact an old den that his Dad had opened up and hollowed out so Mom could store canvas and paint.
I could smell the paint on the palate. I needed to paint something. I had to get all of what I was feeling out of my body. I could feel the doom, the impending pain. I had to block it until they told me. I could not feel Holden. But what did that mean? Was I waiting for some psychic message from him. This must be what happens right before menopause, you literally go insane. Then again I've always been less than traditional or conservative.
That would have been too easy. Jen Lindley-Parker. That was a good mother. The town tramp turned into Donna Reed when Henry Parker married her. She had become my best friend and the bane of my existence. She had James and Tara. They were the two most perfect children along with Henry the ex-football star who now owned two of the largest car dealerships in the county. Jen always had the perfect recipe, remembered cookies for the bake sale, had a clean car for car pool days and her kids always had matching socks.
I never remembered permission slips, had to buy the cookies if I had actually remembered the bake sale and was probably the only mother on the PTA who could give a damn if they served chocolate milk for lunch everyday (that topic always made me wonder had I given them all milk money to begin with).
There was a time in life when I was a completely rational human being. I was funny, sexy and intelligent. I could carry on adult conversations. Something happens when you become a mother, I tell you some of us lose our minds. I did and it didn't take having seven children. Right after Gabe I should have been committed. Not that Pacey would have noticed, he was the only head case in town who would have thought I was normal. Even now with nearly all of my children grown and away from home I haven't regained any of that youthful intelligence or vitality.
"Mother would you turn that down?" Gabe shouted as he turned the volume down on the stereo. Poor Gabe he was old beyond his years. He reminded me a lot of myself. Gabe took charge, he took care of things, he was responsible and for that I loved him and loathed myself. How had I let him grow up so soon. He had more common sense at nine than I have now. His brothers looked for him to set the standards and everyone he met instantly had respect for him.
"Have you heard? Do you know anything?" I couldn't help to ask as I laid the paint brush and palate down.
"I called the 1-800 number they had on tv. It may be 48-72 hours before they have a complete list. Before any of the men can get on the list they have to be seen by a superior and checked by a doctor."
"What happens if they're wounded." I asked.
"Then it takes longer."
And before I could keep it from coming out, I blurted, "And if they're dead?"
Gabriel swallowed hard. "They send someone to the house to inform the family."
"It's going to be a long wait I suppose."
Gabe nodded. "Mother, why don't you get dressed. You'll feel better once you take a shower and put on some clean clothes."
"I don't want to. Let me be Gabe. Let me look miserable to illustrate just how I feel."
"Typical, you've given up already. Go get dressed Mother. Everyone will be home soon."
Like a scolded child I headed up to my room. Gabe was in charge of things now. I went to go shower and put on something more presentable than old sweats so I could pretend like I didn't know what the outcome of this all would be.
An hour later the doorbell was ringing. Riley had picked Jacob and Jonas up at school. I was dressed in fresh jeans and a warm, beige turtleneck sweater. My once long, dark hair had been cut stylishly short by Jen Lindley at her day spa five years ago. I'd been getting the same cut since. I left it down and shaggy. The boys were taking off their coats as I made my way down the stairs.
"Mom. He's going to be okay." Riley said as he hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Oh my poor naive baby boy. "I pray he will." I said wanting to believe that God wouldn't take my son. "Look at you two." I smiled at my twins who had a look of concern on their faces. "Did you bring your laundry?"
"No. Mom, why would we bring laundry at a time like this?" Jacob couldn't help but say.
Jonas added. "Let us take care of you mom." The three hugged.
I figured if I couldn't help dig those innocent young men out of the rubble in the middle east the least I could do was a few loads of laundry. I had to do something. If these two didn't want to take advantage of my housekeeping services I'd just have to find something else to occupy myself.
"Hey boys." Pacey came out into the hallway and hugged each one. "Glad you came home."
It didn't take the welcome home's long to fade. Slowly we were left with nothing to talk about. Usually you couldn't shut us up but it didn't seem right to suddenly be chipper.
"How about I put us together some lunch?" Pacey asked.
Everyone agreed they could eat. It was probably so we wouldn't have to be faced with the fact that we weren't talking. At least if we were eating our mouths were full, there would be no need to speak.
"I'll help you Dad." Gabe offered. I decided to pull together a few loads of laundry from my room and Simon's. A half hour later the whole clan was at the lunch table. Instead of the solemn silence I had left them in they were talking and laughing. Passing cold cuts and bowls of chips around the table. Beth had since left to take the boys to a birthday party.
Simon seemed quiet as he picked at the ham sandwich on white bread. He used to hate the crusts and out of an old habit I nearly reached next to me, took his plate and cut the crust off. I think I mentioned once before that I have gone totally insane as a result of motherhood. I hadn't even heard the conversation going on between the other boys and Pacey when I heard them begin to sing an old sea song. Simon excused himself quietly from the table.
"You don't even know if he's alive. We know nothing." I couldn't help myself from yelling. "And here we sit singing and laughing. For some of us this isn't really an occasion to celebrate." I tossed my plate into the sink. I heard the crash and knew that I'd be cleaning the glass later. Right now though I didn't care.
I wasn't sure if the boys and I were being insensitive. It wasn't our intention. Jo needs to wallow in the pain. I think she feels less guilt or whatever she's feeling when she behaves that way. The boys and I just need to act normal until we know. Well all of us accept for Simon. He is sensitive and soulful and I feel bad that we drove him away from the kitchen. Gabe is on his way to talk to him.
Two more steps and I'll be inside our bedroom where Jo is holed up. I think we need to talk one on one. Since we'd heard about Holden we have yet to do that. Slowly I open the door to reveal her laying back on the bed, propped up on her elbows. My breath catches in my throat as I realize just how beautiful she is. I have spent nearly every day with her for the last 30 years and sometimes her beauty just strikes me in such a way that I have to remind myself to breathe.
She looks over to the doorway where I stand. "Oh Pacey whatever discussion this is going to be can we not have it now?"
"I know you're frightened that he's not going to make it but he has to Jo. Don't ask me my reasoning behind it but I know he has to."
"You're so optimistic, you nearly sound like Dawson." She sighs.
A part of me cringes. Dawson Leery, my best friend. I haven't seen him in a few years now. Part of Dawson was childlike and optimistic another part of him is vindictive and biting. I don't like the comparison, especially considering it's Joey who is doing it. I let it drop.
"Can you try to be positive?"
"All I'm trying to do is get through it Pace. I want to get through this, I want to get them through this. I can't promise you anymore than that."
I nod. Joey is an exceptional mother. She always second guessed her parenting skills but she raised wonderful sons and me. I could never wait to get home to play around with them, walk in the door and see Jo trying to occupy the older ones as she would breast feed one of the younger. Dinner was always slightly burnt, our socks never matched and the house was far from immaculate and I wouldn't have asked for it any other way. I wouldn't change life if given the opportunity. I thought Jo had felt the same.
"Where is Bailey? Have you guys called him?"
"Jo he has one of the most important meets of his career next weekend. I don't want to upset him if we don't have to."
Jo only shook her head. "What if he finds out from the tv Pace. What if he would rather be here than worrying about some damn meet?"
"Jesus Jo do you realize how important that meet is to him? That scholarship to Cornell is important. Do you know how many kids we have in school? I know this is awful and upsetting. I understand that it feels like the end of the world. I'm here, I'm his father, and I feel it but this can not rule all of our lives until we know. That's not fair to the boys."
"You just don't want to deal with the emotional fallout. How typical of you." Jo spat wanting a fight.
"Underestimating me, blaming me...how typical of you." We stared at each other for a long moment. And here was our problem lately, the verbal sparing matches, the round and round.
'Score, a direct hit for Pacey Witter.' The last comment hit me directly in the heart. Was he right? Maybe he always was this knight in shining armor and I was just constantly underestimating him. Or maybe he was just the selfish, indignant jerk I thought he had become and was twisting a situation to make me doubt myself. Either way I knew I didn't have the strength to fight him today.
I threw my hands up in a mock surrender. I left the bedroom and Pacey standing in the doorway. My first instinct was to walk by Simon's room. Then I let myself in without knocking. He laid back on the bed listening to the news radio. I sat on the bed beside him with a leg tucked under myself.
"You don't think he's alive." Simon nearly whispered.
"I have no idea. The morbid side of me thinks he's dead though." I confessed.
"What happens if he's dead? What do we do then?"
"Cross that road when we come to it. Come on let's go eat an obscene amount of ice cream."
Reluctantly Simon nodded and I pulled him up. We went down to the kitchen and unloaded all the ice cream from the freezer. As we began to finally chat comfortably the doorbell rang. In rooms where conversation and tv could be heard it became as quiet as church.
I braced myself for what lie ahead. With an arm around Simon we headed out to the front hallway. Instead of being greeted by two military officers holding a telegram (Pacey has forced me to watch too many war movies) Jen Parker was hugging Gabe.
"He's okay." She squealed. "I wanted to come over and tell you James is okay."
'Bragging bitch.' I couldn't help but think. Then I realized. "Jen, did James say he saw Holden?"
She became a little more reserved, quiet. "The last time he saw Holden was earlier in the evening. James was heading out of the barracks and Holden was headed in."
I thought I might fall to the floor as I felt my legs go weak beneath me. Before anyone could see me go weak I leaned against the warm body behind me. Pacey wrapped his strong arms around my middle as I laced my fingers in his.
James Parker was alive and well. James Parker the very same kid who put the thought of the military into Holden's head. I wanted to rip James Parker apart while his happy mother watched. I know it sounds horrible and irrational but trust that when it comes to your children you will never be rational.
I couldn't help but remember the day he told me he was leaving for the marines...
Holden had become accustomed to cutting school, cutting class. Now that he wasn't in track it didn't much matter. The principal had called me in for an embarrassing parent conference. I felt totally incapable of raising children after the talk with the principal. I felt like a huge failure. The only thing on my mind was finding Holden. I knew exactly where to look. There were only two things in the world that Holden had worked hard to get, his motorcycle and his boat.
It was on the Loafer's Lament, Holden's fishing boat that I found him. He was doing vodka shooters and listening to some alternative radio station. Sitting in his jeans and sweater he looked so much like Pacey. I remembered afternoons we had cut our senior year to sneak off to his boat and have passionate sex.
"Mom?" He asked knowing he was busted. Holden made no attempt to hide the liquor.
"According to your principal I'm not really fit for that title." I said sitting next to him.
"Sorry about that. Seeing as though I'm gonna graduate with my coveted C average I don't think that attending the last few weeks of class are that central to my education."
"Well when your father find's out attending the last few weeks of class will be central to retaining your right to life. So you wanna tell me what's up?" I poured myself a shot and quickly downed it. If Principal McMann could only see the dysfunction that afternoon.
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving?"
"Capeside."
"For school? Where are you gonna go? I thought you and Dad decided on Capeside Community College."
Holden shook his head. "Change of plans. Yesterday me and James went down to the Marines Recruiting station in Hamilton. We're leaving right after graduation. Day after in fact."
I'd always wanted to protect my boys. I knew if he was that far from me there was no way to do that. "No Holden. Don't do this. Why would you do this?" I found another shot was in order.
"Everyone knows what they want to be. Gabe's the responsible one.. Ry's the smart one. Bailey is the athlete. Even the twins have an identity, for christ sakes, they're the twins. Simon is the baby. And me mom, well I've been labeled, I'm the screw up."
"That's not true Holden. If you've been labeled that it's only because that's what you think of yourself. I have never treated you as the screw up."
"So who am I?"
"You're Holden Witter. You're responsible, smart, athletic and willful. That's you Holden, willful. But I see you trying to put your brothers in these neat little boxes. Maybe they are more than meets the eye, the same way you are."
He thought a moment before he chugged another shot and then poured one for me. "That's not what Dad thinks about me. He was so proud when I started track. I lost that meet, I lost to Bailey and from that moment on Bailey was on the way to a track career. Dad is talking about the Olympics. You know what he offered me the other day, not help in finding a school for track. A job, he offered me a job mom. Instead of spending money on school if I was going to screw around I could come work on boats with the rest of his grunts."
Jo took a deep breath. Had Pacey really implied Holden was going to screw up in school? He couldn't have. Pacey of all people knew just how much that implication hurt. But after Holden came out with all of his reasons she knew she couldn't stop him. If leaving the family for a little while would bring him peace of mind she knew she had to let him go and pray that he'd come back more stable.
Everyone, including myself was falling asleep downstairs. Not too loudly I announced, "Come on it's getting late. Let's pack it in for the night." With a groan the boys got up and headed up to bed. Gabe said goodnight and headed to his place. He promised to be by first thing in the morning.
Jo had already went up to bed with the boys. I descended the stairway alone. I think I gave her a surprise when I walked into the bedroom. She was getting undressed and promptly stopped when she saw me.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Sleeping in my own bed." I sighed not wanting to fight. The fact that we were separated was total bullshit to me, sleeping on the sofa in my office pissed me off and tonight I was going to lay beside Jo, in our bed and sleep.
"Not with me you're not." She began to get indignant.
"Then enjoy the sofa. We're not seventeen at Aunt Gwen's house Jo. I'm 47 years old and too damn old to be sleeping on a sofa."
"And who's fault is that?"
I could only say through gritted teeth, "Do you really want to go there tonight?"
She looked aggravated to say the least. I knew the fight was over. She put on old sweats and a t-shirt and laid with her back toward me. I took my own pants off and got under the covers in my boxers and long sleeved t -shirt. I felt bad for starting a fight so I reached out for her hand.
"Don't touch me." She said pulling her hand away. "Back to back and no funny stuff."
I did as I was told. I was so happy to be in my own bed, in my own house that I could care less if she touched me or not. But just when I thought sleep might come easily I realized just why we were all here together, Holden. Thoughts of my boy were all I could conjure.
Eventually I found sleep though. The next thing I remembered was the warm feeling of Joey in my arms. Her cold feet pressed against my leg searching for warmth. I didn't dare move because she might wake up. It was natural that I was holding her. It had been the way we had slept nearly our entire relationship. Home was Joey in my arms. The cold feet stopped bothering me about 28 years back. I breathed deep and for a moment prayed for something other than Holden. I prayed that Jo would come back to me, stop blaming me and just love me again.
When she finally woke up I pretended to be asleep.
I'm not really sure how it happened but I woke up in Pacey's arms. It's instinctive to roll to his side of the bed, shove my feet under him and have those muscular arms wrap around me. I hate to admit it but I'm almost glad he stayed last night. It was five am. Time for Simon's papers.
Quietly I dislodged myself from Pacey's embrace and went down to the garage. As I finished putting the last paper into the sleeve the door opened. Simon stood before me in his long haired glory. He was a handsome boy, dark hair, dark eyes, multiple earrings (to Pacey's dismay), fashionable glasses and fashionably mismatched clothes. He was now sporting some sort of braided look that I was less than fond of but I shut my mouth.
He looked pissed. "Why are you doing my papers?" He shouted.
The tone in his voice threw me as I had never heard my sweetheart Simon shout at me. "I thought you could use the sleep. I was up anyway."
"Did you ever think maybe I need something to do to keep my mind off of things."
The truth is I hadn't. I didn't think anyone was being as eaten up as I was. Selfish, I know but that just happens to be the way I was looking at it. "I'm sorry Simon. What do you say we go and deliver them. Come on, it's cold. I'll give you a ride."
He nodded in defeat. We loaded the backseat and the canvas bags with the Capeside Banner. The front page showed the carnage in Beirut. As I packed them into the sleeve I had to avert my eyes from it finally. Once we choose which direction we would deliver first Simon and I proceeded to toss papers onto the porches. Today I thought I would be wise and deliver to Buttercup's asshole of an owner. I threw the paper in the mud puddle without incident. I was nearly finished with my side when I heard Simon yell.
"Shit, Mom it's Buttercup, run." He yelled at me as the dog was growling and running after him. He dropped his canvas bag. The dog gained on him. I threw my paper bag down. I could only hear Simon's yells as he urged me to get in the car and my own heart beating. I was going to get that dog. I was going to save Simon even though I had no control over Holden. As I saw Buttercup leap in the air I jumped on her. We both tumbled to the ground. Fortunately I was on top. Before I realized what I was doing I was squeezing and Simon was pleading with me. I was strangling this dog. The dog had conceded to me and here I was choking the life from it.
Simon pulled me off the dog. It got up and tried to make a quick getaway. I was stunned by my own actions. I nearly killed a dog, taken a life. Simon looked at me as though I had lost my mind. I wanted to explain that I had lost it years before but I was still in shock.
Now I was covered in mud. All I could do was stare at my hands. Hands that had helped preserve the lives of seven boys were suddenly weapons against small animals. The dog might have nipped Simon but I nearly tore it's head off.
Simon assured me he was okay. I believed that. I wasn't so sure I was okay. I handed him the car keys. "Mom I'm only fifteen, I can't drive."
"Sure you can." I knew I sure as hell couldn't. It was perhaps the slowest ride home but Simon did well.
"Mom if they ask we'll tell 'em you tripped on that big stone in Mrs. Rodney's yard."
I repeated after him, "The big stone in Mrs. Rodney's yard."
Prologue
I stared at the question for a long time. 'In one sentence tell us who you are.' I just kept staring. Only one answer came to mind. 'I am the mother of seven sons.'
Funny, I never wanted children. Yet at twenty and newly married I found myself pregnant. My husband Pacey was ecstatic. I was lost. Nine months later my first son, Gabriel was born.
In the first year I had meant to resume school, sell a painting, find us a more suitable home, go on the pill. Somehow I just never found time. Before I knew it I was taking care of an infant and pregnant for number two. Number two would be my son Riley.
I love each and every one of my boys. I'm sure I would be good friends with them had I had one spare moment between raising them. Each time I lay eyes on my sons I feel a certain guilt. Guilty that I had never wanted this life. Guilty because they never really got a moment alone to know me. Guilty because I could remember putting them in a playpen even though they fussed, turning up the music and painting. A mother's guilt is unique and sharp.
As I sit in a room full of fresh faced college kids as old as, if not younger than Gabe or Riley, I think of these things. The question on my Social Work/Civil Service Exam had been, 'In one sentence tell us who you are.' Forty seven years on this earth and I could only find one sentence to describe a person I thought was much more complex. After forty five minutes of staring I finally wrote, 'I am the mother of seven sons.'
Joey...
The flash in my dream disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. I woke up sweating with my heart racing. Something was wrong. Pacey always hated my premonitions. He would certainly hate knowing that I had just had one. I knew the moment I woke up that one of my boys was in trouble.
The last premonition I had was about Riley, years ago. I remembered I ran from bed and got in my car. I drove his paper route in the snow. It was then I found him on the side of the road. He had fallen and broken his ankle.
I had that same feeling now. Quickly I leapt from my bed and went down the hall to Simon, my baby's room. He was sound asleep. Breathing became a little easier. It was only quarter to five, I could not and would not call the boys on a Sunday morning until nine a.m.
Knowing I'd never get back to sleep I put on a pair of jeans, old sweatshirt and boots. I needed to stay busy until nine a.m. Work was found piled outside in the drive. The Capeside Banner was delivered in bulk to my home for years now. Each one of my sons had the same paper route in our neighborhood.
On the floor of the cold garage I knelt and began to rubberband the paper and slip it into plastic sleeves. Rain had beseeched Capeside for over a week now.
Finally I stood, finished with the papers. My legs were stiff and my back a little sore. I stretched realizing I wasn't young enough to be crawling around on the cold concrete of the garage anymore.
"Simon," I called upstairs to him. "It's almost six, you're gonna be late if you don't move." A loud thud and some rustling came from upstairs. I started myself a pot of coffee and placed a mug next to it for when I got home.
"Shit ma, I'm gonna be late." Sixteen year old, Simon hurried to put his coat on. "Why didn't you get me up?"
I trailed him outside. "First, watch your mouth. I let you sleep, I bundled them myself."
"You didn't have to do that."
"I know but I couldn't sleep. I had one of my premonitions."
Simon rolled his eyes. "So which one of us is it?"
"I don't know." I sighed as we filled two canvas bags with papers and put the rest in my Volvo station wagon. We buckled up and drove to the beginning of the route. "At first I thought it was you but you're okay. It's Gabriel." I suddenly knew.
Twenty four year old, Gabriel made breakfast with his girlfriend, Beth. Her two sons were sound asleep. He couldn't resist kissing her neck. The one kiss caused a chain reaction of kisses. With one movement the table was cleared and he laid Beth down.
The puddles were deep and the earth soft and mushy. Simon and I started on the middle of Miller's Circle, a cul-du-sac. As I threw the paper on the porches of hte neat homes my mind raced. So maybe it wasn't Gabe. "Riley," I whispered to myself, thinking aloud.
Twenty three year old, Riley looked down at the small puppy. His eyes were sad and the puppy's in the other cages barked loudly. Working part time at the pound was taking its toll on him. He had been unable to put any of the animals asleep. Looking down at this cute pup he sighed, "Ok, you win." Riley put him back in the cage.
A voice urged be back to reality and away from my thoughts. "Simon, Simon is that you?" An old woman called.
"No, it's Simon's mother." I called putting a smile on my face.
The old woman walked out onto her porch. "So Simon's got you out on this cold morning."
"I don't mind it." I handed the paper to her.
"Twins used to deliver my paper."
"Yes, those are my sons too. Have a nice day." I headed back down the drive and onto the next house. That must be it, "The twins."
Jacob and Jonas slept in on this cold Sunday morning. Soon they would get up, have breakfast and head to the library on campus at University of Vermont.
The canvas bag got progressively lighter. It felt so much better on my old bones. As my mind drifted in and out of thought I heard barking in the background. The barking got louder as I stopped walking ahead. I turned to look back at Simon.
The dog from hell that had bit him once before was hot on his tail. "Mom," he yelled out to me. I ran toward him and the dog. Quickly I threw a newspaper in its direction and it hit the dog in the head.
"Buttercup, come here right now Buttercup." A man yelled in the distance and the dog scampered away.
"That dog nearly attacked my son." I screamed in his direction ready to attack myself. "He bit him once already. There is a leash law you know."
He ignored what I had just said. "Where's my paper?"
Now I was angry. "You want your paper?" I slid it out of the plastic sleeve and dropped it into a large puddle. "There's your goddamn paper."
"You're supposed to leave it on the porch."
"When you put that dog on a leash you'll have your paper on the porch."
"I'm gonna complain."
"Be my guest asshole." I smiled walking away with Simon.
"Language mother." Simon laughed.
"One more word and I'll feed you to Buttercup myself. Let's go home."
Walking into the warm house I heard the televison on the kitchen counter on. An aerobics class was being taught by a bouncing blonde with large breasts. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Pacey sat at the counter and a kettle was on the stove.
"Hey dad." Simon said going straight for a box of Cheerios.
"Hey kid. How's the paper route?"
"Okay."
"Pace, what are you doing here?" I asked as I stripped out of my first layer of clothes.
"I was wondering where that coat was." He said as I took off his old beige coat.
"Pacey the question was what are you doing here?"
"I live here Jo." He sighed getting up and pouring hot water into my mug.
"No Pace, in fact you don't. We're separated remember?"
"Not legally and where am I supposed to stay, my office?" He asked as he dunked his tea bag into his water exactly six times and then throwing the bag behind him into the sink.
"Do what all separated men do and get an apartment." Annoyed with my husband already, I pulled the tea bag out of the sink. "For over twenty five years you've been making yourself tea and then throwing the bag in the sink. Who do you think removes your tea bag and puts it into the trash? The tea bag fairy?"
Pacey was ignoring me and watching the bouncing aerobics women with Simon. I wanted to slap him silly. Something inside of me had been waking up. Finally I realized I needed time away from Pacey. I planned on moving Simon and I out of the house and taking a job in Boston as a social worker. I didn't really need all this room anymore, all of the boys with the exception of Simon were out of the house. I had no need to live in Capeside when I could go to Boston and do what I always wanted to do. Yet Pacey still wanted to hold me back. He was content living the same lives we led almost our whole existence.
The loud beat of the exercise show was pounding in my brain and making me more and more irritated. I stood in front of the set about to turn it off as Simon and Pacey protested. Between their cries I heard a special news bulletin. Standing back I watched some random, weekend news anchor appear.
"This is an NBC Special Report. Forty-three Marines and fifteen French soldiers are dead this morning after a dawn explosion at the Beirut airport where the American contingent of the multinational peacekeeping force..."
"That's where Holden is," Jo said feeling panic creep into her bones.
"Shh," Pacey said as he turned his attention back to the screen.
"The blasts apparently occurred when a terrorist suicide force drove into the two buildings with trucks loaded with explosives. Preliminary reports indicate that the blast leveled the first story administration building where an undisclosed number of Marines were sleeping. Other Marines housed in a nearby barracks..."
"That's not supposed to be a war zone. Does he live there? Did he say anything like that to you?" I looked for answers in Pacey's face.
He was pale. "I have no idea. I only have a box address for him. Stay calm Jo, okay." He went to the phone and looked at the directory beside it. A few moments later he was talking to someone.
"Do you think he's okay?" Simon asked with a worried look on his face.
Did I think he was okay? No. I thought my son was dead. I knew because I had never wanted children that God was punishing them for my wishes. When Simon was born with a hair lip, when Riley broke his ankle or when Gabe nearly died of a high fever and now I knew that I could never fully protect them. I couldn't protect them because I had never wanted them. Some mothers could do it all, I could only pray for my sons' safe passage through life.
"Mom, do you think that Holden is okay?"
I lied. "Yes, I hope he is."
For the next forty-five minutes we all sat stunned around the small tv set waiting for the anchor to feed us any new information. Pacey got up and made some phone calls. Simon pulled out his lap top searching for the latest new via the internet. I was lost in a world of my own. I grabbed my old painting shirt and retreated to my "studio." With one touch of a button music filled the room so loud that I couldn't even hear my own thoughts. There I waited for someone to tell me, tell me that my misunderstood boy was laying dead in another country, millions of miles from his family.
Holden was obviously named after Holden Caulfield from Catcher In the Rye. I should have never named him that, beside having me for a mother, this town saw both of his names as a bad sign, Holden Witter. He had tried hard to be everything we wanted him to be. My other six sons were all on the fast track to greatness. I think it took Holden a little longer to realize what he was meant for. When he was eighteen he had come to me, he wanted to join the military with James Parker, Jen's son. At first I was reluctant. It was Pacey who made me see that maybe a change of scenery was exactly what Holden needed. So could this be technically made Pacey's fault?
Pacey had once been so much like Holden. That was until he grew up a little and we fell in love. There was nothing like that for Holden. It was funny to me that they were so much alike yet Pacey had little understanding why almost of all of our boys seemed perfect and Holden had to defect from the group by not being as academically inclined or so versed in social graces. When Holden took up track in high school Pacey was very supportive. Then Holden had gotten his brother, Bailey involved in track also. Suddenly it became obvious who the track star was going to be and it wasn't Holden. I guess that left him looking to find his place in this large family. Pacey and I were Mom and Dad. Gabriel, the oldest, wisest, a school teacher. Riley, intelligent yet artsy, yearning to become an architect. Bailey was the track star at Cornell University. Jacob and Jonas, they were the twins. Simon was the baby, the computer genius. Holden had felt as though he'd had nowhere to belong, no place. What he never realized was that he was special, always in my heart just because he was so like Pacey. He made me reflect back on my youth and he made me love Pacey even more than I did.
Pacey...
The news about Holden sent me into a tailspin. How was it at all possible that my son could be dead somewhere in the middle east while I sat comfortably in our home or whatever Jo was calling it these days. It made me think to all of the things I had ever said to him. I had to stop though because slowly I started to begin to feel like my own father.
I called the boys and told them what was going on. I knew Jo would need Gabriel who had long served as her second in command. Besides they should all hear it from me and not from some Ted Koppel wannabe on televison.
I sat on the couch drinking my tea. Tea drinking, a side effect from living with Doug for so long. I looked around at the clutter surrounding me. There were boxes half full and labeled. It showed the signs of Jo's threat that she was moving to Boston was perhaps not so hollow. There had been a time we lived in a cramped apartment while I was employed fixing up boats at the Capeside Yacht Club. Gabriel was a baby and Riley was on the way. We dreamt of a home, a real place to raise our family. Our dream was realized when Gail and Mitch Leery moved to Miami to open their fifth Leery's Fresh Fish Restaurant. We were able to mortgage their home and make it our own.
We had worked so hard on making the Leery residence into the Witter home. After nearly 22 years in this house and almost 30 together she was willing to leave it behind. I realize that I'm not the easiest individual to live with but she should realize she's not either. In the last 24 years I don't think we had spent 24 hours alone with each other or apart.
I love my sons. They have become our world. But I do remember a time when Joey and Pacey were this fairytale. Now I know what happens after the tale ends, after 'they lived happily ever after.' Joey told me she felt stifled. I've always tried to support her decisions, encourage her. Hell, I'm the man who bought her a wall but to pack up our lives and move to Boston. I hardly think that is the smartest thing to do.
I'm 47 years old, still living in Capeside. I've finally made peace with my demons. Customized by Witter the premier yacht, customizing company is now in full swing. I'm successful at last in the eyes of this community. My boys are all healthy and doing well...
Holden. The thorn in my side. The very reason I'm dredging up the past now. Holden. One of my boys is lost and alone. He has been that way for a very long time. Now he is miles from our home and I'm helpless. I've always been told about my hero complex. I don't give a shit about who is the hero, I just wanted to protect him from a world that has never been fair for men like us. If God lets him come home, I swear I will tell him that. I will wrap my arms around him and tell him that.
The front door opens. "Dad, have you heard anything more?" Gabriel asks out of breath as he rushes into the house. His girlfriend Beth and her two blonde children in tow.
I shake my head. "No." I groan as I lift my tired body from the couch and head to the kitchen. "Beth can I get you some tea?"
"Yeah, let me come help you with that." Beth followed Pacey into the spacious kitchen.
"Where's mom?" Gabe asked looking to Simon.
"Where do you think?" Simon sighed as he stared intently at something on the screen of his laptop.
Gabe should have known better than to ask. He could hear the music blaring. There was really nothing like coming home to the Witter Ward as he so affectionately called it. He walked back toward his mother's "studio" that was in fact an old den that his Dad had opened up and hollowed out so Mom could store canvas and paint.
I could smell the paint on the palate. I needed to paint something. I had to get all of what I was feeling out of my body. I could feel the doom, the impending pain. I had to block it until they told me. I could not feel Holden. But what did that mean? Was I waiting for some psychic message from him. This must be what happens right before menopause, you literally go insane. Then again I've always been less than traditional or conservative.
That would have been too easy. Jen Lindley-Parker. That was a good mother. The town tramp turned into Donna Reed when Henry Parker married her. She had become my best friend and the bane of my existence. She had James and Tara. They were the two most perfect children along with Henry the ex-football star who now owned two of the largest car dealerships in the county. Jen always had the perfect recipe, remembered cookies for the bake sale, had a clean car for car pool days and her kids always had matching socks.
I never remembered permission slips, had to buy the cookies if I had actually remembered the bake sale and was probably the only mother on the PTA who could give a damn if they served chocolate milk for lunch everyday (that topic always made me wonder had I given them all milk money to begin with).
There was a time in life when I was a completely rational human being. I was funny, sexy and intelligent. I could carry on adult conversations. Something happens when you become a mother, I tell you some of us lose our minds. I did and it didn't take having seven children. Right after Gabe I should have been committed. Not that Pacey would have noticed, he was the only head case in town who would have thought I was normal. Even now with nearly all of my children grown and away from home I haven't regained any of that youthful intelligence or vitality.
"Mother would you turn that down?" Gabe shouted as he turned the volume down on the stereo. Poor Gabe he was old beyond his years. He reminded me a lot of myself. Gabe took charge, he took care of things, he was responsible and for that I loved him and loathed myself. How had I let him grow up so soon. He had more common sense at nine than I have now. His brothers looked for him to set the standards and everyone he met instantly had respect for him.
"Have you heard? Do you know anything?" I couldn't help to ask as I laid the paint brush and palate down.
"I called the 1-800 number they had on tv. It may be 48-72 hours before they have a complete list. Before any of the men can get on the list they have to be seen by a superior and checked by a doctor."
"What happens if they're wounded." I asked.
"Then it takes longer."
And before I could keep it from coming out, I blurted, "And if they're dead?"
Gabriel swallowed hard. "They send someone to the house to inform the family."
"It's going to be a long wait I suppose."
Gabe nodded. "Mother, why don't you get dressed. You'll feel better once you take a shower and put on some clean clothes."
"I don't want to. Let me be Gabe. Let me look miserable to illustrate just how I feel."
"Typical, you've given up already. Go get dressed Mother. Everyone will be home soon."
Like a scolded child I headed up to my room. Gabe was in charge of things now. I went to go shower and put on something more presentable than old sweats so I could pretend like I didn't know what the outcome of this all would be.
An hour later the doorbell was ringing. Riley had picked Jacob and Jonas up at school. I was dressed in fresh jeans and a warm, beige turtleneck sweater. My once long, dark hair had been cut stylishly short by Jen Lindley at her day spa five years ago. I'd been getting the same cut since. I left it down and shaggy. The boys were taking off their coats as I made my way down the stairs.
"Mom. He's going to be okay." Riley said as he hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
Oh my poor naive baby boy. "I pray he will." I said wanting to believe that God wouldn't take my son. "Look at you two." I smiled at my twins who had a look of concern on their faces. "Did you bring your laundry?"
"No. Mom, why would we bring laundry at a time like this?" Jacob couldn't help but say.
Jonas added. "Let us take care of you mom." The three hugged.
I figured if I couldn't help dig those innocent young men out of the rubble in the middle east the least I could do was a few loads of laundry. I had to do something. If these two didn't want to take advantage of my housekeeping services I'd just have to find something else to occupy myself.
"Hey boys." Pacey came out into the hallway and hugged each one. "Glad you came home."
It didn't take the welcome home's long to fade. Slowly we were left with nothing to talk about. Usually you couldn't shut us up but it didn't seem right to suddenly be chipper.
"How about I put us together some lunch?" Pacey asked.
Everyone agreed they could eat. It was probably so we wouldn't have to be faced with the fact that we weren't talking. At least if we were eating our mouths were full, there would be no need to speak.
"I'll help you Dad." Gabe offered. I decided to pull together a few loads of laundry from my room and Simon's. A half hour later the whole clan was at the lunch table. Instead of the solemn silence I had left them in they were talking and laughing. Passing cold cuts and bowls of chips around the table. Beth had since left to take the boys to a birthday party.
Simon seemed quiet as he picked at the ham sandwich on white bread. He used to hate the crusts and out of an old habit I nearly reached next to me, took his plate and cut the crust off. I think I mentioned once before that I have gone totally insane as a result of motherhood. I hadn't even heard the conversation going on between the other boys and Pacey when I heard them begin to sing an old sea song. Simon excused himself quietly from the table.
"You don't even know if he's alive. We know nothing." I couldn't help myself from yelling. "And here we sit singing and laughing. For some of us this isn't really an occasion to celebrate." I tossed my plate into the sink. I heard the crash and knew that I'd be cleaning the glass later. Right now though I didn't care.
I wasn't sure if the boys and I were being insensitive. It wasn't our intention. Jo needs to wallow in the pain. I think she feels less guilt or whatever she's feeling when she behaves that way. The boys and I just need to act normal until we know. Well all of us accept for Simon. He is sensitive and soulful and I feel bad that we drove him away from the kitchen. Gabe is on his way to talk to him.
Two more steps and I'll be inside our bedroom where Jo is holed up. I think we need to talk one on one. Since we'd heard about Holden we have yet to do that. Slowly I open the door to reveal her laying back on the bed, propped up on her elbows. My breath catches in my throat as I realize just how beautiful she is. I have spent nearly every day with her for the last 30 years and sometimes her beauty just strikes me in such a way that I have to remind myself to breathe.
She looks over to the doorway where I stand. "Oh Pacey whatever discussion this is going to be can we not have it now?"
"I know you're frightened that he's not going to make it but he has to Jo. Don't ask me my reasoning behind it but I know he has to."
"You're so optimistic, you nearly sound like Dawson." She sighs.
A part of me cringes. Dawson Leery, my best friend. I haven't seen him in a few years now. Part of Dawson was childlike and optimistic another part of him is vindictive and biting. I don't like the comparison, especially considering it's Joey who is doing it. I let it drop.
"Can you try to be positive?"
"All I'm trying to do is get through it Pace. I want to get through this, I want to get them through this. I can't promise you anymore than that."
I nod. Joey is an exceptional mother. She always second guessed her parenting skills but she raised wonderful sons and me. I could never wait to get home to play around with them, walk in the door and see Jo trying to occupy the older ones as she would breast feed one of the younger. Dinner was always slightly burnt, our socks never matched and the house was far from immaculate and I wouldn't have asked for it any other way. I wouldn't change life if given the opportunity. I thought Jo had felt the same.
"Where is Bailey? Have you guys called him?"
"Jo he has one of the most important meets of his career next weekend. I don't want to upset him if we don't have to."
Jo only shook her head. "What if he finds out from the tv Pace. What if he would rather be here than worrying about some damn meet?"
"Jesus Jo do you realize how important that meet is to him? That scholarship to Cornell is important. Do you know how many kids we have in school? I know this is awful and upsetting. I understand that it feels like the end of the world. I'm here, I'm his father, and I feel it but this can not rule all of our lives until we know. That's not fair to the boys."
"You just don't want to deal with the emotional fallout. How typical of you." Jo spat wanting a fight.
"Underestimating me, blaming me...how typical of you." We stared at each other for a long moment. And here was our problem lately, the verbal sparing matches, the round and round.
'Score, a direct hit for Pacey Witter.' The last comment hit me directly in the heart. Was he right? Maybe he always was this knight in shining armor and I was just constantly underestimating him. Or maybe he was just the selfish, indignant jerk I thought he had become and was twisting a situation to make me doubt myself. Either way I knew I didn't have the strength to fight him today.
I threw my hands up in a mock surrender. I left the bedroom and Pacey standing in the doorway. My first instinct was to walk by Simon's room. Then I let myself in without knocking. He laid back on the bed listening to the news radio. I sat on the bed beside him with a leg tucked under myself.
"You don't think he's alive." Simon nearly whispered.
"I have no idea. The morbid side of me thinks he's dead though." I confessed.
"What happens if he's dead? What do we do then?"
"Cross that road when we come to it. Come on let's go eat an obscene amount of ice cream."
Reluctantly Simon nodded and I pulled him up. We went down to the kitchen and unloaded all the ice cream from the freezer. As we began to finally chat comfortably the doorbell rang. In rooms where conversation and tv could be heard it became as quiet as church.
I braced myself for what lie ahead. With an arm around Simon we headed out to the front hallway. Instead of being greeted by two military officers holding a telegram (Pacey has forced me to watch too many war movies) Jen Parker was hugging Gabe.
"He's okay." She squealed. "I wanted to come over and tell you James is okay."
'Bragging bitch.' I couldn't help but think. Then I realized. "Jen, did James say he saw Holden?"
She became a little more reserved, quiet. "The last time he saw Holden was earlier in the evening. James was heading out of the barracks and Holden was headed in."
I thought I might fall to the floor as I felt my legs go weak beneath me. Before anyone could see me go weak I leaned against the warm body behind me. Pacey wrapped his strong arms around my middle as I laced my fingers in his.
James Parker was alive and well. James Parker the very same kid who put the thought of the military into Holden's head. I wanted to rip James Parker apart while his happy mother watched. I know it sounds horrible and irrational but trust that when it comes to your children you will never be rational.
I couldn't help but remember the day he told me he was leaving for the marines...
Holden had become accustomed to cutting school, cutting class. Now that he wasn't in track it didn't much matter. The principal had called me in for an embarrassing parent conference. I felt totally incapable of raising children after the talk with the principal. I felt like a huge failure. The only thing on my mind was finding Holden. I knew exactly where to look. There were only two things in the world that Holden had worked hard to get, his motorcycle and his boat.
It was on the Loafer's Lament, Holden's fishing boat that I found him. He was doing vodka shooters and listening to some alternative radio station. Sitting in his jeans and sweater he looked so much like Pacey. I remembered afternoons we had cut our senior year to sneak off to his boat and have passionate sex.
"Mom?" He asked knowing he was busted. Holden made no attempt to hide the liquor.
"According to your principal I'm not really fit for that title." I said sitting next to him.
"Sorry about that. Seeing as though I'm gonna graduate with my coveted C average I don't think that attending the last few weeks of class are that central to my education."
"Well when your father find's out attending the last few weeks of class will be central to retaining your right to life. So you wanna tell me what's up?" I poured myself a shot and quickly downed it. If Principal McMann could only see the dysfunction that afternoon.
"I'm leaving."
"Leaving?"
"Capeside."
"For school? Where are you gonna go? I thought you and Dad decided on Capeside Community College."
Holden shook his head. "Change of plans. Yesterday me and James went down to the Marines Recruiting station in Hamilton. We're leaving right after graduation. Day after in fact."
I'd always wanted to protect my boys. I knew if he was that far from me there was no way to do that. "No Holden. Don't do this. Why would you do this?" I found another shot was in order.
"Everyone knows what they want to be. Gabe's the responsible one.. Ry's the smart one. Bailey is the athlete. Even the twins have an identity, for christ sakes, they're the twins. Simon is the baby. And me mom, well I've been labeled, I'm the screw up."
"That's not true Holden. If you've been labeled that it's only because that's what you think of yourself. I have never treated you as the screw up."
"So who am I?"
"You're Holden Witter. You're responsible, smart, athletic and willful. That's you Holden, willful. But I see you trying to put your brothers in these neat little boxes. Maybe they are more than meets the eye, the same way you are."
He thought a moment before he chugged another shot and then poured one for me. "That's not what Dad thinks about me. He was so proud when I started track. I lost that meet, I lost to Bailey and from that moment on Bailey was on the way to a track career. Dad is talking about the Olympics. You know what he offered me the other day, not help in finding a school for track. A job, he offered me a job mom. Instead of spending money on school if I was going to screw around I could come work on boats with the rest of his grunts."
Jo took a deep breath. Had Pacey really implied Holden was going to screw up in school? He couldn't have. Pacey of all people knew just how much that implication hurt. But after Holden came out with all of his reasons she knew she couldn't stop him. If leaving the family for a little while would bring him peace of mind she knew she had to let him go and pray that he'd come back more stable.
Everyone, including myself was falling asleep downstairs. Not too loudly I announced, "Come on it's getting late. Let's pack it in for the night." With a groan the boys got up and headed up to bed. Gabe said goodnight and headed to his place. He promised to be by first thing in the morning.
Jo had already went up to bed with the boys. I descended the stairway alone. I think I gave her a surprise when I walked into the bedroom. She was getting undressed and promptly stopped when she saw me.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Sleeping in my own bed." I sighed not wanting to fight. The fact that we were separated was total bullshit to me, sleeping on the sofa in my office pissed me off and tonight I was going to lay beside Jo, in our bed and sleep.
"Not with me you're not." She began to get indignant.
"Then enjoy the sofa. We're not seventeen at Aunt Gwen's house Jo. I'm 47 years old and too damn old to be sleeping on a sofa."
"And who's fault is that?"
I could only say through gritted teeth, "Do you really want to go there tonight?"
She looked aggravated to say the least. I knew the fight was over. She put on old sweats and a t-shirt and laid with her back toward me. I took my own pants off and got under the covers in my boxers and long sleeved t -shirt. I felt bad for starting a fight so I reached out for her hand.
"Don't touch me." She said pulling her hand away. "Back to back and no funny stuff."
I did as I was told. I was so happy to be in my own bed, in my own house that I could care less if she touched me or not. But just when I thought sleep might come easily I realized just why we were all here together, Holden. Thoughts of my boy were all I could conjure.
Eventually I found sleep though. The next thing I remembered was the warm feeling of Joey in my arms. Her cold feet pressed against my leg searching for warmth. I didn't dare move because she might wake up. It was natural that I was holding her. It had been the way we had slept nearly our entire relationship. Home was Joey in my arms. The cold feet stopped bothering me about 28 years back. I breathed deep and for a moment prayed for something other than Holden. I prayed that Jo would come back to me, stop blaming me and just love me again.
When she finally woke up I pretended to be asleep.
I'm not really sure how it happened but I woke up in Pacey's arms. It's instinctive to roll to his side of the bed, shove my feet under him and have those muscular arms wrap around me. I hate to admit it but I'm almost glad he stayed last night. It was five am. Time for Simon's papers.
Quietly I dislodged myself from Pacey's embrace and went down to the garage. As I finished putting the last paper into the sleeve the door opened. Simon stood before me in his long haired glory. He was a handsome boy, dark hair, dark eyes, multiple earrings (to Pacey's dismay), fashionable glasses and fashionably mismatched clothes. He was now sporting some sort of braided look that I was less than fond of but I shut my mouth.
He looked pissed. "Why are you doing my papers?" He shouted.
The tone in his voice threw me as I had never heard my sweetheart Simon shout at me. "I thought you could use the sleep. I was up anyway."
"Did you ever think maybe I need something to do to keep my mind off of things."
The truth is I hadn't. I didn't think anyone was being as eaten up as I was. Selfish, I know but that just happens to be the way I was looking at it. "I'm sorry Simon. What do you say we go and deliver them. Come on, it's cold. I'll give you a ride."
He nodded in defeat. We loaded the backseat and the canvas bags with the Capeside Banner. The front page showed the carnage in Beirut. As I packed them into the sleeve I had to avert my eyes from it finally. Once we choose which direction we would deliver first Simon and I proceeded to toss papers onto the porches. Today I thought I would be wise and deliver to Buttercup's asshole of an owner. I threw the paper in the mud puddle without incident. I was nearly finished with my side when I heard Simon yell.
"Shit, Mom it's Buttercup, run." He yelled at me as the dog was growling and running after him. He dropped his canvas bag. The dog gained on him. I threw my paper bag down. I could only hear Simon's yells as he urged me to get in the car and my own heart beating. I was going to get that dog. I was going to save Simon even though I had no control over Holden. As I saw Buttercup leap in the air I jumped on her. We both tumbled to the ground. Fortunately I was on top. Before I realized what I was doing I was squeezing and Simon was pleading with me. I was strangling this dog. The dog had conceded to me and here I was choking the life from it.
Simon pulled me off the dog. It got up and tried to make a quick getaway. I was stunned by my own actions. I nearly killed a dog, taken a life. Simon looked at me as though I had lost my mind. I wanted to explain that I had lost it years before but I was still in shock.
Now I was covered in mud. All I could do was stare at my hands. Hands that had helped preserve the lives of seven boys were suddenly weapons against small animals. The dog might have nipped Simon but I nearly tore it's head off.
Simon assured me he was okay. I believed that. I wasn't so sure I was okay. I handed him the car keys. "Mom I'm only fifteen, I can't drive."
"Sure you can." I knew I sure as hell couldn't. It was perhaps the slowest ride home but Simon did well.
"Mom if they ask we'll tell 'em you tripped on that big stone in Mrs. Rodney's yard."
I repeated after him, "The big stone in Mrs. Rodney's yard."