Failings of the Fathers: 14

"So, my Dad said he'd do whatever."

"I'm going to college, free?" Jenna asked.

"Sure.  Why not?  It's not like he can't spare it."

She was quiet, walking beside him, to their favorite lunch place.  Settling themselves down on the little picnic blanket that Jenna had brought and stashed in an empty locker in the deserted "art hall" as they called it, they took out their lunches and started to eat.

"I'm not sure what to say about it."  Jenna said.  "You know, your Dad paying for my school."

"Then don't say anything.  It's not like you have to."

"I mean, I feel so . . . lucky."

"Well, you are.  Just let it go at that, I guess."

"What about you?"

"Not sure yet.  I really just want to stay around here and work for my father.  He's missed a lot of my life, and I don't really want our family apart again."

She nibbled at her lunch, but he could see his last words had affected her.  "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, I just . . . don't have a family anymore, really.  Just me and Lynnie."

"I'm sorry.  You can share mine, if you want to.  We have more than enough."

She laughed, "I guess you do.  And it seems to keep on growing.  Timothy adopts your father, and now, Timothy has a son that's living, and your mom's going to have a baby."

"Yep.  That's how Mannings roll."

She laughed again, eating some more.  Then she said, "Jack, even with all the bad things, your family is fortunate to be together.  And, all of you love each other, and work to stay together.  That's the important thing."

"People think we're crazy.  The Dysfunctional Mannings."

"Dysfunctional?  Isn't that term sort of relative?"

He thought.  "Maybe so, because for me, I like the way we function, for the most part, just not the crap my father has had to go through, and my mother, too."

"Maybe none of it matters as much because they have each other."

"Maybe."

***

Bitsy pulled Little Ray out from under the crib by his feet, spying them sticking out to reveal him.  She looked right into his face, and shook her head "no."

He gently patted her face.  "Okay.  No.  No Gamma."

She smiled.  She put him down and put out her hand.  He took it, and they walked together to the stairs.  He looked up at her and said, "Lunch?"

She nodded.

In the kitchen, Bitsy puttered about, getting his lunch items ready: organic chicken nuggets, some carrots and a peach, all cut into the right sized pieces for an almost-three year old.  He was in his highchair, and was banging on the tray.  She came over to him and put her hands over his.  Looking into his face, again, she shook her head "no."  

Ray stopped.  Finally, she brought his food to him, and he said, "Thank you!" and dug in.  She petted his hair and went back to cleaning up after herself.  

Todd's feet were heard on the stairs, and he rounded the corner into the kitchen already talking, "Gotta get Ray lunch . . .oh, Momma, you already did that."

She nodded, from the sink.  She finished the last few items from his lunch prep, and then turned toward Todd, wiping her hands.

"Momma, you don't have to."

She nodded, as if to say, "Yes I do."  She smiled.

Her hair at the left of her face was falling out of the twist she wore to keep it all out of her eyes.  She was in a simple dress, that reminded him of a little girl.  It was white, with calico flowers.  Her signature white bobby socks were at her ankles, with no shoes.  He smiled to himself.  She plopped into a chair.

He said, "You're tired, from chasing him huh?"

She nodded, and laughed a little.

"He's a handful, we know.  Does he kick you?"

She shook her head, "no."

"Well, you're about the only one.  I won't let Blair near him because he's gotten into that bad habit."

She put her hand out toward the refrigerator, toward the memo pad.  He got it for her and handed it and the pencil to her.  She wrote, as Ray ate and made his usual sounds of enjoyment.

He doesn't kick me because I speak his language.

Todd laughed aloud at this, and handed the pad back to her.  "Really?"

Yes.  We understand each other.

"You were a great Mother, makes sense you're a great Grandma."

Her face changed, and she broke down into her hands, elbows resting on the table.  He went to her side, "Momma, stop, now, what's this about?"

She cried softly.  Ray said, "Gamma sad."

"Momma, come on.  It's all right."  He slid the pad toward her.  She didn't write.

"Momma?  Ray's getting worried.  You have to stop crying now.  It's really all right."  He put an arm around her shoulders.

"Gamma sad.  Down, Daddy."

"Not now, Ray, just a minute."

"Down Daddy!  Down!"  the toddler yelled, and took his spoon and slammed it.

Bea looked up and composed herself.  She stood and straightened her dress a bit, and went to Ray.  Looking directly into his eyes, she shook her head, "no" and then waited.  He slowed his slamming, and then, after a few minutes, he stopped.  "Gamma sad?"

She shook her head "no" again, and put her fingers to her mouth and shushed him.  "Shhh."

"Down, Gamma."

She shook her head "no" again, and made another "Shhh."

He went back to finishing his peach, and she turned to the table, taking the pad.  Don't ever say I was a great mother.  But you can say I am a great Gramma.

***

It was a few hours before the copter returned the boys to the house.  They came in through the master bedroom, mainly because they knew their mother was there all day now, and had been for the last three days.  They trudged in, after wiping their feet on the mat outside the towering glass panes.  Sam was first, "Mom!"  he said, running to her bed and jumping on.

"No, young man, get off here with those shoes.  Get them off first."

He did as she asked, and then jumped back on, hugging her gently, and sitting next to her.  He was waving a paper at her.  "I got a hundred."

"Let me guess, spelling?"

"No, Math!"

"Great job!  Sam, you're so smart."

"Just like your father," Todd said, from the door.

Jack was already at the fireplace, starting one.  "I have an idea," Jack said, from the sitting area.

"What's you're idea?"  Blair asked.

"Let's have a family night, right up here, remember, we used to all the time downstairs, though.  Grandma Bitsy can come and Ray, until he runs away from us eight or ten times and has to go to bed."

Blair laughed.  Todd said, "You have it all figured out, huh?"

"Yep," Jack said, closing the fireplace guard.  The fire was already picking up.

"Mommy, what do you think?"  Todd asked her.

"I think it's a decent idea, sure!  Daddy, what about pizza?"  Blair questioned.

"Why do you two call each other Mommy and Daddy when we're here?"  Sam said.  "You're Todd and Blair."

There was light laughter in the room.  "Okay, Blair, I think pizza can be arranged."  Todd added.  "But for you?  Are you supposed to avoid spicy food?"

"I think spicy means spicy hot, not pizza."  Blair said.

"All right, it's all settled then," Todd said.  "I'll get the pizza going in about an hour.  Until then, you guys hang out and do homework.  Mommy, I mean, Blair, you choose the movie."

"Thank God she's choosing," Sam chimed in, "I can't watch that Evil Dead II another time.  Gees, Dad, you gotta let go."

Blair burst out laughing, and Todd put his arms folded over his chest.  "What?  Are you saying that I am obsessed with that movie or something?"

Jack rolled his eyes, "No offense, Dad, but yeah."

"Maybe just a little," he said, going off to get Bitsy.  Sam hankered down in the sitting area, cracking the books.  Jack went and got some items he needed from his room for his study session.  Bitsy returned with three sketch pads and her pencil box, and since Little Ray was still napping, all of them had some quiet time to get things done.  Blair was making a list of things they would need for the new baby.  Somewhere in her heart, she realized the baby was on her way, sooner than later.  In the midst of their silence, after Todd returned with his tablet to work on The Sun, Sam blurted out, "Grandma Bitsy had a dream about the baby."

Everyone in the room just looked at him, while he was still focused on his homework.  Blair said, "Really, Sam?"

Bitsy shook her head "no" as if it were nothing.

"Yep.  She had a dream about the baby.  It was little, and beautiful and precious.  And it was perfectly healthy.  It was really small.  She drew it."

Todd looked up, surveying what was going on from a side point.  Blair said, "Momma, did you draw her?"

Bitsy sheepishly looked at Blair, and nodded slowly.

"Can I see?"

The older woman got up, and took her sketch pad to Blair.  Handing it to her, Blair noticed she had written something under it.  

The dream about the baby.

The picture was the side view of a man's hand, with a baby in it, like a cradle.  The fingers held up the head lightly, and the baby's legs, of course, were curled in toward herself.  Blair's eyes filled with tears, and Todd, seeing things might become emotional for her, put his tablet down and went to the bed.  He crawled on next to his wife, and leaned over to see the drawing.  "That's a beautiful drawing, Momma.  I think it's symbolic, that the baby is held up by her father's love," Blair said.

Bitsy nodded.

Blair asked, "Bitsy, did you dream the baby was small?"

She looked at Todd first, and then to Blair and nodded.

"She was tiny?  Like this, in your dream?"

She nodded again, this time taking her "talk pad" and writing:  Yes.  She was so beautiful and perfect in every way.  She was moving, and breathing, and alive and so so precious.

Blair's tears fell, but her face was one of gratitude.  "Thank you, Momma.  This is so special."

Bitsy nodded once in acceptance of the thanks, and went back to her drawing spot by Sam.  Both Todd and Blair studied the drawing another moment.  He said, softly, "See, the baby was happy and alive."

Blair waited, then said, "Bitsy's right.  The baby is going to be here soon, and she will be tiny.  The doctor said the same thing, Todd."

Todd looked at Blair and said, "And alive.  Perfect in every way, and alive."

"And safe in your hands, My Love," she said.

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