Go Baby Grow
Chapter 19 – Listen to Me
Sunday, May 2nd
Amelia led Julie to the treehouse and flopped down onto a pile of large pillows. She threw a blanket over to Julie and suggested she wrap up. "You need to feel cozy right now," Amelia smiled. "I haven't been in here in a long time," Amelia admitted as she studied the space. "When the big kids were younger, they practically lived here."
Julie sat with her knees bent and her arms wrapped around her legs. Her chin rested on her knees and the blanket was haphazardly thrown over her shoulders. She did not make eye contact nor start a conversation.
"I'm a great listener," Amelia assured her.
Julie glanced over and grinned slightly. As she began to speak, she dissolved into tears, "I miss my mom."
Wrapping her arms around Julie, Amelia squeezed tightly. "Let it out, Jules. Let the tears flow."
In the many years since Claire's death, nobody had ever given her permission to fall apart. Adam would pat her back and offer, "Yes, it's hard, but we have to keep moving. That's what Mom would want." Sam, still brooding in his grief, immediately changed the subject if Claire was mentioned. Teachers and school counselors were sympathetic, but were also mindful of the clock and the school schedule. Julie's steady and solid presence precluded others from recognizing the depth of her pain. Over the years, Julie had even convinced herself that she had emerged on the other side of grief. In recent times, however, Julie befriended Ryder; he understood He'd been there… twice. He'd lost both his father and his mother, yet showed humor and vitality. Julie admired what she thought was resilience, even though it was actually a way Ryder covered his pain.
With loud wailing and sobbing, Julie released pent up energy that had yearned for years to be expressed. Amelia's grip didn't loosen until Julie's did 45 minutes later. Even then, Amelia grasped Julie's hand and held it.
"Did you know my dad died when I was five?" Amelia shared gently.
"No," Julie shook her head. "I'm sorry. How heartbreaking."
Amelia shared a brief version of the story about how she and Derek were playing when a man robbed the family store and shot her father. Sparing the details of her picture memories of her father on the ground dying, Amelia focused on how she muddled through the pain and loss. Julie and Amelia realized they were kindred spirits, sharing the experience of growing up without a parent and having been present at the death.
After stroking Julie's hair with a soft motherly touch, Amelia queried, "What do you miss most about her?"
With tears falling gently, Julie pondered her response. "Her laughter and playfulness."
"No wonder you hang around Ryder – he has plenty of that to share," Amelia chuckled.
"I'd never put that together, but you're on to something," Julie realized.
"Owen and my father share similar characteristics. Playful without shirking responsibilities, a gentle smile, highly intentional and quick thinking. I used to worry that I was attracted to Owen because he was like my dad. I wondered if I loved him for the wrong reasons. Finally, I saw the light and got over that," she smirked. Julie grinned.
Looking down at the floor, Julie pondered aloud, "It can be tough… to expect one parent to be both genders. You know… in your case, to expect your mom to be the person you go to for "Dad" questions and for regular "Mom" questions. My dad, as much as I love him and know he loves me, hasn't really ever been able to fill the hole my mom's death left."
Amelia wondered, "What's it been like being raised by your dad… by a man?"
"Normal, I guess. I don't know any different," Julie reasoned intellectually. "He's very matter-of-fact. For the birds and bees talk," Julie chuckled, "he relied on the school sex ed curriculum and he gave me a book. Even at my age, I could tell the discussion was difficult for him. I'm not sure he said more than 10 sentences. One was along the lines of 'your mother and I have raised you to have high standards, and I expect that you won't be sexual with a boy until you're married.' Then in his best Captain voice, he leaned in and scared the hell out of me with a firm, "Is that understood?" He meant well but it was a nightmare."
"He had spoken to my teacher and asked her to discuss periods, shaving, and hygiene with me. I'm sure that having that conversation with my teacher was equally painful for him. She was incredibly kind to take me under her wing. When I needed tampons or pads, she'd buy them and bring them to school in a paper bag for me. After I left middle school, Dad would take me with him to the store and wait at the end of the aisle while I chose the products I needed. I was embarrassed to be with him and have him hovering. To someone who didn't know he was my father, he probably looked suspicious as he watched a young woman in the feminine products area. I'm sure we both looked like fools." Both Amelia and Julie laughed.
"What would you add, subtract or change if you had a magic wand?" Amelia coaxed.
With a giggle, Julie shared, "I'd add more joy and laughter. Home and life would be softer. Our house has been heavy and dark since my mom died. My dad, until recently, has been serious and stern, strict and unemotional. I wonder sometimes how I'd be different if my mom was alive. She was elegant and stylish. When she died, my dad didn't buy me dresses when I outgrew the ones I owned. The only dresses I had were my school uniforms. Otherwise, I was in jeans, t-shirts, sweaters, or sweatshirts. I'm not sure it ever occurred to him to buy me anything feminine. The few times I needed a nice dress for a Navy event or something else, he'd let me root around in the clothes in Mom's closet. When she died, he let my brother and I choose items we wanted to keep, then he donated the rest of her belongings. For some reason, he never quite managed to clean out her closet. Her clothes are in there along with our baby books and sentimental tchotchkes. It's a separate walk-in closet and the door is always closed. I think Dad just pretends the room isn't even there."
"Who taught you girlie things, like putting on makeup or doing your hair?" Amelia wondered aloud.
Julie scoffed, "Have you taken a look at me? I've never worn much makeup or fussed a lot with my hair. Over time, friends or their moms have taught me a little about hair dryers, gels, and hairspray. Dad gets grumpy when I want money for anything like that. Once, when Dad took me to a Navy Father-Daughter dance, he suggested I let my hair air dry. When my naturally messy wave resulted, he and I fumbled around for the better part of an hour trying to put my hair in a bun. He ended up calling our retired neighbor lady and begging her to come over. Within a minute or two, she'd put my hair up and curled some wisps into tiny ringlets. I felt like a princess that night, but also felt like an imposter who didn't know how to be a girl."
"I may be out of line here," Amelia cautioned. "But, if you'd like, I'd love to help you shop and prepare for the prom and for Plebe Summer."
"That would really mean a lot to me, Dr. Shepherd," Julie smiled. "I'd love that."
"Can I be your substitute mom while you're at the Academy? I'd love to send you care packages and be there for you in whatever way might be helpful. I care about you, Julie," Amelia shared from her heart.
"Wow… that is such an incredibly kind offer, Dr. Shepherd. Please don't feel obligated. I'm used to being Mom-less. Besides, you have your own Navy-sized platoon to mother," Julie responded, not wanting to be a burden.
"I think," Amelia declared as she grabbed each of Julie's hands in hers, "that you've paid your Mom-less dues, Super Girl." After gazing for a moment into Julie's eyes, Amelia added with a wink, "And we really need to find a solution to this 'Dr. Shepherd' title."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~'
While Julie and Amelia grieved, remembered, and laughed together, Ryder fumed. When he left Owen's office, he'd run to Nolan and Lissa's, entered without a knock, and declared loudly, "Where's Nolan?!"
Lissa was playing on the floor with the girls, encouraging the 6 week old babies to grab objects she held in front of them and coaching Molly, nearly 14 months old, to be gentle when she handed either of them a toy. With a motherly look of displeasure at his ranting, Lissa calmly explained, "He's upstairs on the phone with his office."
"On a Sunday?!" Ryder sneered as Molly tried to follow him. He headed toward the stairs and opened the gate, closing it before Molly could join him. "Not now, Molly," he stated flatly. To her, fun Uncle Ryder sounded mean. She collapsed on the floor and shook the gate with her hands.
Not knowing Ryder was on his way up, Nolan covered the phone's receiver and called down, "Liss… I'm on the phone." It was his way of asking her to quiet Molly's tantrum.
"I need to talk to you…now," Ryder paced as he softly but expressively spoke.
Nolan held up a finger and replied to his co-worker, "Here's what I'd suggest. We can meet with Bob and Jim in the morning. Call Linda and ask her to put together a rough sketch of what we're facing and we'll focus on this by phone and email today. I can review her presentation before the meeting – I can be at the office by 6 am tomorrow. Really, there's not much we can do today anyway."
"I really need to talk," Ryder emphasized as Molly continued to howl downstairs despite Lissa's efforts.
Nolan furrowed his brow and whispered, "Go help with Molly. I'll be off the phone in a minute."
"Ucka Wy," Molly sobbed as if her life was over.
"Baby, he's with Daddy right now. Mama's here. Let's play with the babies," Lissa attempted with an upbeat voice. She shook a rattle and suggested, "Molly, can you give this to Emmy?"
"No…." Molly wailed. "Ucka Wy… Ucka Wy…"
Growing steadily more frustrated, Ryder shot a glare toward Nolan and bounded down the steps. Seeing Molly fall apart softened his steaming anger and helped reorient his mood. When he reached the lower portion of the stairs, Ryder peeked through the gate and made a sad face at Molly. She simultaneously laughed and cried as one emotion transitioned into the other.
With a silly voice, Ryder spouted, "Who's yelling for me? Who's making all that noise?"
"Ma-yee," Molly pouted as she rattled the baby gate.
"Ma-yee? Does Ma-yee want Uncle Ryder to pick her up?" Ryder proposed.
"Up, up," Molly begged.
Ryder picked her up and explained, "If I'm holding you, no more crying."
She sniffled and rested her head on her Uncle's shoulder. Grabbing onto his shirt, she made a tight fist and snuggled her Nam.
"Thank you, finally…" Lissa grumbled. "You could have listened to me and waited down here until Nolan was off the phone."
"Sorry," he shrugged. "I'm totally pissed about something. I need to talk to Nolan."
"Are you mad at Nolan? Because he doesn't need any more stress today," Lissa warned.
"No. I'm pissed at the United States Navy," Ryder fumed.
"Pisssssssd," Molly repeated.
Lissa rolled her eyes and stood up to take Molly from Ryder. "Nice work, Potty Mouth," she commented.
"What's going on down here?" Nolan asked in a friendly tone as he headed toward Molly. "Why were you crying, Sweet Pea?" He took her from Lissa and hugged her.
"Ucka Wy," she sniffled as her bottom lip popped out.
"He makes Daddy cry too, honey," Nolan chuckled. He turned to his brother and questioned, "And what's your problem?"
"I have to turn in my Canadian passport before I can obtain security clearance at the Academy," Ryder huffed.
"Oh," Nolan sighed. "That's… kind of tough, huh?"
"Yeah," Ryder grumbled.
"Choices have consequences," Nolan shrugged.
Ryder fought back, "I didn't choose anything here."
"Really?" Nolan challenged.
"I'm fuming," Ryder declared as he tightened his jaw.
"You usually blow stuff off, Ry. What's this about for you?" Nolan pushed.
Ryder stuttered, "I'm Canadian… or part Canadian… or, you know, I was born there. It's part of me… kind of."
"Hmm," Nolan nodded slowly, trying to analyze the situation.
Lissa walked over and handed Nolan a beer. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her. Molly smacked her lips together, wanting kisses too. Checking on the results of his phone call, Lissa inquired, "Did you put out the fire at work?"
Nolan ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled, "Maybe… I'm going in early tomorrow. We'll see what the team can throw together."
Nolan kissed Molly and set her on the floor. "Where's the horsey toy?" he asked, hoping it would keep her busy for a minute.
"Hey," Ryder popped off.
"Sorry, Ryder," Nolan pursed his lips. Sarcastically, he took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, adding dryly, "How could I be distracted from your crisis?"
"Forget it," Ryder grumbled as he headed toward the door and stepped outside.
Nolan followed him, apologetically looking at Lissa and promising to be right back. "Ryder…" Nolan called out as Ryder stomped off. "Ryder, c'mon," Nolan repeated. He ran and grabbed the cuff of Ryder's shirt. "Stop," he ordered.
"Let go of me," Ryder insisted.
"Calm down and grow up," Nolan ordered. "You came over to talk. Let's talk." The two sat on the grass and Nolan looked at his brother with anticipation.
"I wish I could decide about it, not be forced into it," Ryder pouted.
"Nobody's forcing you. You wanna keep dual citizenship? Then do it." Nolan shrugged.
"And not go to the Academy?!" Ryder huffed.
"That'd be one option, wouldn't it?" Nolan emphasized.
"I'm going to the Academy," Ryder insisted.
With another shrug, Nolan weighed in, "Then surrender the Canadian passport. Problem solved."
"I want both," Ryder stated flatly.
"I know you do," Nolan affirmed. "Doesn't seem to be an option, Ryder."
"That pisses me off," Ryder declared.
"I couldn't tell," Nolan chuckled as he nudged Ryder's leg. "Here's the deal, Ryder. The Canadian Passport is a convenience if you're traveling to a US-hating country or if you need a piece of ID and can't find your drivers' license. It doesn't make you more Canadian. It's a piece of paper. You're still Ryder Tremblay Hunt… or Ryder Hunt, sorry."
Ryder folded his arms and stared at his brother. Nolan continued, "I think you're pissed because someone else is calling the shots. If you're going to be in the Navy, you might want to work on that, Little Brother."
Note from Gracie:
Hey Readers! Thanks so much for your loyalty – I am thrilled to still be writing this series. I have a special request for all of you. I seldom share my needs to be cared for (it's so much easier to be the one providing care, isn't it?), but I need all the positive thoughts, prayers, and well wishes possible.
I have a horrendous meeting coming up at work tonight. Based on what I know, many of the attendees will come with axes to grind and with intense opinions – I am dreading it as the time nears. If you have a moment to send your comments about the book or about this chapter between 6:40pm – 8:40pm Pacific Time or even a small encouragement, your words will help even out the animosity that will be filling the meeting I'm attending. Thanks in advance! GB
As of May 2:
Nolan and Lissa, 22;
Molly 13 ½ months
Emily and Elizabeth (born 3/15) 6 weeks
Ryder 18, Julie 18 (Seniors in high school)
Olivia 15 (Freshman in high school)
Ria and Anna 10- finishing 4th grade
Lucas 8 ½ - finishing 2nd grade (started K at 6 years old)
Baby Hunt – due October 25. 15 weeks along. 2nd trimester.