Chapter Thirty: Tuesday, January 3, 2006, New York City
Annie looked up at the house with trepidation. This was Simon's new home.
The lights were on; the walk was shoveled. Several snowmen stood in the postage-stamp sized front yard. The porch desperately needed fresh paint. Not a single car parked on the street was younger than ten years old, and they all seemed to have rust-spots, dents, or missing fenders.
There were bars on the doors and ground floor windows of every house on the block.
"I don't like this," she told Eric.
Behind them, a taxi sat idling at the curb, all of Simon's belongings in the trunk.
How could their son have so little stuff? A suitcase full of clothes. A few boxes. His guitar. Did he even play anymore?
How could she know so little about her son?
How could Simon have done this? How could he up and move like this, with no notice, no warning?
"I don't like this at all," she said again. "Eric. I don't like this. This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong."
"I know." He looked back over his shoulder at the cab driver and waved, probably trying to tell the guy, who was anything but patient, that they would only be a minute.
Was it too much to hope that they'd be able to talk Simon into getting into the cab with them and driving to the airport right then?
She took Eric's hand, and they walked up to the front door. He rang the bell.
"It's open!" Called a loud male from somewhere inside the house.
"Is that safe?" Annie asked. "Is that a good idea?"
"Maybe they're expecting us?"
She nodded. That made sense. Eric had called Simon and told him they would be over tonight. She wished Matt and Sarah had been able to come, too. At least Matt. Matt had always been able to talk sense into Simon.
Eric pushed the door open, and they stepped into a small vestibule. Beyond, lay a large, haphazardly furnished living room where a Christmas tree (decorated with ribbons, popcorn strings, and ornaments that appeared homemade) sat next to a crackling fireplace; half-dozen or so people (one of them a Tenctonese woman) sat in mix-matched chairs or on the floor, laughing at something someone had just said. The conversation stopped abruptly and for a terrified second, Annie thought her husband had gotten the address wrong.
Then a dark-haired woman hopped up from the floor. "Reverend Camden!" Her smile was warm, but it didn't seem to quite reach all the way up to her dark brown eyes. "And Mrs. Camden?" she said to Annie. "Welcome to our home. Please, come in. Do you need a hand getting Simon's things?"
"They're in the trunk. We took a cab—"
"Zach—"
"On it," said a dark-haired man, who was already on his feet along with three others. Two were darker haired, the third a blond. The Tenctonese woman rose with them.
"I'm twice as strong as they are." She winked at their apparent hostess, who chuckled in return.
"And twice as organized." It sounded like she was teasing. She turned back to Eric and Annie. "Please come in and sit down. Let me take your coats," she added. "I'm Samantha Carmichael. Can I get you a cup of tea? Or some coffee?"
Eric handed over his jacket, so Annie surrendered hers. "Tea would be nice, thank you," she said. Despite this woman's hospitality, Annie felt like an outsider. It was an uncomfortable revelation. She never felt like an outsider.
Samantha Carmichael hung their coats up in the over-stuffed closet just inside the living room and guided them over to an unoccupied spot on an old, plaid sofa.
"Where's Simon?" Annie asked.
"Out back with the kids."
There were a few chuckles around the room.
"She means both the little ones and the big ones," said a woman who by her voice was clearly deaf. Everyone laughed at her comment. "I'm Laura."
"It's nice to meet you," Annie was careful to annunciate.
"A pleasure," Eric signed as well as spoke; he'd always had more confidence when it came to ASL than Annie.
Laura got up and walked into the kitchen, while Samantha continued the introductions. "This is Juta and Bri."
Juta looked a little older than the others and of Middle Eastern or perhaps Indian descent. Her thick black hair hung in a single braid down her back and she wore a sari of rich burnt orange. Bri, who was clearly pregnant, looked a little like an extra from Little House on the Prairie, with her long skirt and blonde hair done into a bun. Sitting in the rocker next to the Christmas tree, knitting what looked like it was going to be a baby blanket only added to the effect.
By then the others had come in with Simon's meager possessions.
"Take it up to his room," Samantha instructed. As she passed, she pointed out that they were, "Zach, my husband, Erik, Bri's husband, Brian, and Martha. Did you lose Kipper?"
Zach snickered. "You might say that. George just pulled up."
Samantha just rolled her eyes and Laura returned with two mugs and a little teapot that she set on the table in front of Eric and Annie. "Simon likes this one," she explained. "I thought you would, too."
"Thank you," Annie told her. She still felt awkward. "Maybe I should go let Simon know we're here."
"Straight through the kitchen, out the back door," Samantha told her. "Just be ware of flying snowballs."
Annie nodded. When Eric started to get up, she shook her head. She needed to do this on her own, even if she wasn't entirely certain what this was. She couldn't drag Simon back to California with them. She couldn't force him to do anything. Lucy was right. For all that he would always be Annie's little boy, Simon was a grown man, an adult.
The knots in her gut grew tighter with each step. The kitchen was…warm. There was something in the oven, pans on the stove keeping warm. One of them, though covered, had the look of a freshly baked loaf of bread. Objectively, this seemed like a good house filled with good people. They were a little eclectic, but Matt had said Caroline's family was little bit of a hodge-podge and that not all of the pieces quite seemed as if they should fit together, even though he'd gotten the impression watching them that they were all close.
All loving.
She stepped out the back door to find a small band of children along with one adult man, three teenaged boys, and Simon, a girl riding piggyback on his back, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, wild, unkempt red hair flying everywhere. Everyone was laughing, snowballs hurling back and forth. If it was anyone else but her son, her son who was making yet another mistake with his life, the scene might have made her smile.
But it's Mary all over again.
Simon was running from one situation—one girl—to another.
And this one is….
She didn't look sixteen.
But she was just a baby.
She seemed to be the one to spot Annie first; she whispered something to Simon, who immediately released his hold on her legs, so she could slide down off his back. Simon took her hand and brought her over to the back porch.
"Mom." His greeting almost as cold as the evening air. "I'd like you to meet Caroline."
She pushed a strand of long hair out of her face—it didn't help much—and held out a mittened hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Camden. And it was awfully kind of you to bring Simon's things from California."
Why did her tone have to sound so sincere? Annie accepted her hand but couldn't think of anything to say in return. It wasn't nice to meet this girl and she hadn't brought Simon's things out of a sense of kindness or obligation or even duty as a mother. She'd done it because she wanted to try and talk some sense into her son.
By then, the other adult in the group had wrangled the children into some sense of order and was herding them towards the backdoor.
"Mrs. Camden?" When she nodded he held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Jerry Gordon. Only a couple of this brood are mine." He winked at the kids and one of the boys and an older girl stepped forward. "This is Piper," he signed as he spoke. "And Jeremy. Piper's deaf like her mother," he added.
"And I'm Jake Wells," the oldest of the teens stepped forward—he looked almost like a man with dark hair and sharp blue eyes.
"Charlie Wells," said the other boy, a younger, slightly less intense version of Jake.
"My brothers," Caroline said, her tone as long suffering as any teenaged girls, embarrassed to have her brothers anywhere near her. It reminded Annie of the way Ruthie used to get.
Maybe because she's practically the same age as Ruthie.
Caroline would be sixteen in a few days. Ruthie would be sixteen next November.
"And last but not least," said Jerry, "We have Eileen, Brian and Martha's daughter."
The girl was Tenctonese so either she was Martha's daughter from some previous marriage (she was too young to have been on the ship when it crashed), or she was adopted.
Jerry continued, "And Samantha and Zach's girls, Sadie and Kyra." Kyra looked about Sam and David's age, Sadie a little older.
The back door opened, then. It was the third man who had gone outside to get Simon's things, the one who hadn't returned with the rest of the group, not that there had been that much to bring in. "Perfect timing! I was just coming out to get you guys for dinner." He stepped out with another man. A man whose hand he was holding. The kids and teens, with Jerry bringing up the rear issuing orders to wipe feet and wash hands, tromped inside. Kipper continued to hold the other man's hand. "Simon, this George."
"Dr. Huang," Simon sounded pleased. He held out his hand.
To a man who was…. Annie leaned back against the railing.
Dr. Huang, it hit her.
"Please, call me George." He was Asian. Soft spoken. Maybe a little older than most of the rest of the group. Under his coat, it looked like he had on a suit and tie.
"We didn't think you'd be able to make it tonight," Caroline said to him.
"Neither did I. And I may still have to run if anything changes. But right now, there's nothing for me to do except get in everyone's way."
"I'm sorry…." Annie began. "Doctor?"
"I'm a psychiatrist," he supplied. "Mrs. Camden, I presume?"
"Annie," she invited him to use her first name. "A psychiatrist?"
"George works with my Uncle Fin," Caroline told her, as if that somehow explained something, or made things better.
George chuckled softly. "I'm not sure I would go so far as to call us friends. Suffice it to say that Detective Tutuola and I work together sometimes. I consult with the police," he explained to Annie. "I'm what most people call a 'profiler'."
"And you're know my son how…?"
"George is going to tutor me in Chinese," Simon told her.
"That's an ambitious undertaking," Annie told her son. Wasn't he still studying German?
George Huang smiled; it was a warm, calming smile Annie was sure must work on his patients. Annie didn't feel comforted. "No more challenging than anything else," he said. Caroline took Simon's hand. "We should probably go in and get cleaned up."
Annie followed them in; in the living room, she discovered there was one more member of the party, a three-month-old named Shannon who was Laura and Jerry's "surprise baby", though by all accounts it was a happy surprise—and Laura was nursing her, right there, in the living room, in front of everyone. The men. The boys. How was it that even Jake and Charlie weren't uncomfortable? Matt had never been especially uncomfortable when he stumbled in on her breastfeeding any of his younger siblings—but he was their brother. Any of his friends would have been mortified.
She would have been mortified.
Who were these people?
In short order, everyone assembled in the dining room—there were far too many to fit at the little kitchen table. As it was, George and Kip were squeezed together on an ottoman from the living room and two chairs had been brought down from somewhere upstairs. There was hardly room to move, but no one seemed to mind. Dinner was roasted lamb with carrots and potatoes, a salad, some unspecified nearly-raw meat for Martha and Eileen. Despite the raucousness earlier, the children all settled down for dinner and Samantha even asked Eric if he'd like to say grace.
He seemed pleased, especially when everyone took each other's hands without complaint or even seeming to need much prompting. Eric simply held his hands to his neighbors—her and Simon—and everyone else followed suit, even the children.
Eric squeezed Annie's hand. "We thank you, O Lord, in all your Names and Guises, for loved ones, for friends and family, for the bounty at the table, for the gift of your Son, born here on Earth to offer us the gift of…mercy," he said, after only a moment's pause. "We ask you to look out for those who aren't with us tonight, except in spirit and to keep us and our families safe, now and always. Amen."
"Amen," everyone echoed, even Martha, who was almost certainly not Christian and probably hadn't been praying. Of course, Eric had been aware of that too; sometimes Annie thought he was better at inclusivity than she was. His prayer was a perfect example of that.
Annie noticed Jerry cross himself; she'd noticed he had on a crucifix. He was probably Catholic.
She could accept Catholic.
Carlos was Catholic.
She could accept Jewish, even if she would have preferred it if Matt hadn't converted. She loved Sarah. She loved Richard and Rosina.
She was fine with Muslims and even Hindus.
She'd made her peace with the Tenctonese and their, quite literally alien views on God a long time ago, and was so proud of Lucy for doing her final thesis on Christianity and Alien Faiths.
Her gaze flickered over to Kip and George again. They made her almost as uncomfortable as Simon and Caroline, and Annie didn't like what that said about her. She had every right to be angry with Simon, but no right whatsoever to judge perfect strangers for the way they loved. For who they loved. She knew it was biology. It was the same as having blue eyes or blond hair. Love wasn't a choice. What you did about it was, but they were six years into the twenty-first century.
Mercy, she reflected.
She took a breath, forced a smile and took food off the serving plate that was passed to her.
Half-way through dinner there was a knock at the back door. After a brief squabble to see who would get it, one of the children—Piper? There were a lot of names to try and remember—wriggled under the table and darted into the kitchen. She came back a few moments later, leading a handsome middle-aged man with shoulder-length dark hair and a strong jawline.
"Michael!" Samantha was on her feet the second she saw him. It took a bit of jostling, but soon enough she, Zach, Kip, and Laura had exchanged warm hugs with the new arrival. Jake and Charlie shook his hand with warm familiarity, but not quite the same exuberance as the others.
Caroline leaned over to whisper something to Simon before taking her turn to greet the man with a soft kiss on the cheek. "It's so good to see you again, Michael."
"Likewise. How are your parents?"
"Wishing you would visit more often."
He chuckled. "I'll be down soon."
"They'll hold you to it," she warned.
"I know. And I'm sorry it's been so long." Michael turned to Simon. "I heard through the grapevine you were applying to Brakefield. It's where I went—and where I teach now. Michael Richmond." He held out his hand.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. When Cathy suggested I apply at Brakefield she said she knew someone who taught there, but not that you were close."
"I grew up with most of these guys." He reached over and ruffled Zach's hair as if he was a little boy, not a grown man. "Taught most of 'em, too."
"Michael is an amazing teacher," Samantha said. "You have to take a class with him."
"You're assuming I get in," Simon told her.
"I have a little pull in admissions," said Michael. "I heard about the blemishes on your academic record, but I think if you can explain what happened, they'll give you a shot. There are a lot of people at Brakefield who believe in second chances."
"I hope so."
"Better watch out," said Kip. "Michael here is a tough teacher. You remember George, right?"
"Yes, of course." Michael extended his hand and exchanged brief pleasantries with George Huang before turning back to Kipper. "I was only hard on you because I knew how good you could be. How good you are."
Simon smiled, but said, "I probably shouldn't take your classes since you're so close to Caroline's family."
"It's going to be hard to avoid," Michael told him. "Cathy tells me Cathy tells me you're majoring in education and looking at a minor in literature. Not everybody knows this yet." He eyed the rest of the group, making it clear that what he was about to say was still a secret. "But I'm being named head of the English Literature Department—don't get too excited." He laughed over the cheers, claps on the back, and applause. "It's a department of less than a dozen faculty members and all it really means is more work."
"It's still wonderful news," said Samantha.
"It really is," Caroline agreed. "Father and Grandfather are going to be so pleased to hear. Congratulations, Michael."
He squeezed her hands. "We're all proof any one of us can make it." He looked around the room with obvious pride.
Samantha took Michael's coat and Zach found another chair; Erik got him a plate, even though Michael insisted he wasn't hungry and couldn't stay. Bri informed him that he might be a bachelor college professor now, but he didn't have to eat like one.
…
Annie volunteered to help Samantha clean up after dinner, even though Samantha insisted she was a guest, and didn't have to.
"I don't like just sitting around while other people work," Annie admitted. What she didn't say aloud is that she was still trying to put all the pieces together. She didn't understand these people and she wanted to. She needed to.
Samantha smiled at her. "That must be where Simon gets it. He's been jumping in and helping out all day. I thought he was just trying to impress us."
As if on cue, Simon, Zach, and Erik came in with more dishes from the dining room; Annie overheard Caroline's brothers volunteering to get Sadie and Kyra off to bed.
It reminded Annie a little of her own house, especially when Simon came over to her, grabbed another dish towel, and started helping her dry and put things away.
"You have a wonderful home," Annie told Samantha.
It was an odd mix of people. Caroline's brothers seemed as different from Caroline as night to day, but it was hard not to like them, even Jake with his earrings and long hair. Simon's hair was short again, but he still had the earrings.
Samantha taught English and literature at the school for the deaf. Laura taught there too. History and social studies.
Zach taught math and science at another school—a regular public high school. Kip taught drama at the same high school.
Erik was a nurse. Bri worked in the New York Public Library.
Juta was a social worker; she lived next door to Jerry, a police officer, and Laura. Brian and Martha owned a hobby shop.
"Zach, Kip, Erik and I grew up together," Samantha explained. "Laura's a little older. So is Michael, but we were all part of the same family. Juta's parents, like George's, were friends of Father's. Caroline's grandfather, Vincent and Devin's father," she clarified.
"You're all…adopted?" Annie hazarded.
"Sort of," Zach told her. He took the big platter she'd just wiped down and put it up into the cupboard over the stove. "I have parents. But Father, Vincent…their family is my family, too. When I was little, I would run to Vincent almost as often as I ran to my own dad with a skinned knee. Or girl problems." He shot Samantha a shy look that made her smile right back at him.
"Devin left home pretty young, so most of us never got to know him when we were little," Samantha told Annie. "It was Vincent who was the most like a big brother. He kissed our skinned knees, taught us to swim, and nursed our broken hearts."
"He fostered our dreams," Kip added. "And taught us to believe that anything is possible if you have the courage to dream."
"He never let any of us give up on ourselves, even when we wanted to because he believed in each and every one of us," said Erik.
"So, when he met Catherine, we all loved her, too," Zach said.
"Catherine saved my life," Erik told Annie. He looked over at Kip and smiled. "Kipper found me. He told Catherine about the place I was living. Catherine rescued me and Ellie. My sister. Ellie got sick less than a year later. But she that last year, we were together. We were safe. We were loved. We had a family. I don't remember our biological parents. Ellie said they were bad people, but she didn't like to talk about them much. She would say the past was in the past."
"I got to meet my biological father," said a new voice. Michael was leaning against the door frame. "I don't think he's bad, exactly. He just never wanted children. He told me I was a 'mistake'. After my mother died, he…he didn't care what happened to me, as long as I wasn't around to inconvenience him and his 'real' family."
"That's horrible." Annie's heart broke for any child who was told they weren't wanted, that they were a 'mistake'.
"There are a lot of horrible people in the world," Samantha told her. "I never knew my parents, but I guess they didn't want me, or I wouldn't have ended up 'in the system'."
"The system doesn't fail everyone," said Juta. "But it fails some. Too many. My parents don't have much, but what they have, they give freely to those who needed it. In exchange, our hearts have always been filled with love. We've always had enough. Just exactly enough. So now, I give too, and I receive so much in return."
Laura joined Michael at the doorway. "Being deaf and alone is scary," she said aloud. "Good people taught me not to fear the silence."
Jerry came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.
Laura smiled at him. "A good man taught me how to love."
"Love was the one thing my life was lacking when Laura came into it," he said, signing as he spoke. "I had everything else, but really, I had nothing until I had her."
"Love was the one thing my home lacked when I was growing up," said Brian. He'd slipped into the kitchen too, along with the rest of them, it seemed. "But when I needed it the most, I found it." He reached over for Martha's hand; behind him, Simon wrapped his arms around Caroline's waist. Brian continued: "Catherine and Vincent gave me the courage to dream. To hope for better. To do better than my parents had done with me. My parents aren't bad people, they were just bad together and after they split up, they would argue over who had to take me. I know that sounds awful—and as a kid it felt awful—but looking back with adult eyes, I can see that they were both in so much pain. They were lashing out at each other, and I got caught up in the middle."
"When I came to New York," Martha said, "I had nothing. It was frightening. I was alone. Then I met Brian. We adopted Eileen. If things go well, we should be adopting her biological sister this spring. Their parents were the victims of hatred."
"I'm so sorry," Annie told her.
"It wasn't you who hurt them," said Martha. "Hatred…fear…it comes in all shapes and sizes. There are bad people in every religion. And good ones. And even the best people can become corrupted, twisted by hate or greed."
A silent nod of ascent was shared by most of the room.
"I grew up in Chinatown," said George. "Like Juta's parents, my family didn't have much, but what we had, we shared with others and in return we got so much more than I ever could have imagined." He reached out his hand and Kip took it. It still made Annie uncomfortable that they were so open.
"I only knew my dad," Kipper said. "My mom split when I was little. My dad drowned himself a bottle. I was pretty lucky, I guess. He never hit me or anything. He just…he wasn't there. He wasn't able to be. He didn't know how. Then I met a nice old man who taught me how to play chess."
Zach snickered, "I don't think Father would appreciate being called 'old'."
"So, I'll bet you're going to tell him I said that," Kip shot back with a puckish grin.
"Our grandfather lost almost everything," Jake said, joining them with Charlie. "It was the Cold War. A different era. He got branded a communist. Anti-American. He was blacklisted. He was trying to save lives."
"He has saved lives," said Samantha. "And because of him, because of what he taught us about generosity and love, there will always be room for one more at the table." She favored Simon with a kind smile.
