Carrie King
Carrie bustled around their small dining area, making sure all the adults had fresh coffee, and that plates and forks were taken up as soon as they were used. She and Joe usually preferred small breakfasts, sometimes no more than coffee and toast. But she’d heard Amanda’s opinion of breakfast a few times from Jamie. He was used to a much more elaborate meal, so she’d gotten up early to go through the kitchen and make up something traditional.
After her third circuit of the table, Joe caught her hand. “Stop,” he told her. “Sit down. It’s all right.”
“But —”
“Vous essayez à nouveau de concourir,” he said. You’re trying to compete again. They’d had this conversation before. Joe had reassured her that she and Amanda were each unique, that he’d married them for different reasons, and that there was no need for her to be nervous. Amanda herself was always warm, pleasant and welcoming. The one time the boys had compared the two of them while both were present, she had gently reprimanded them.
Taking a deep, sharp breath, she sank down next to her husband. Across the table, she could see Lee quickly dropping his eyes back down to his plate. Did Joe know that Lee spoke French? Did it even matter? Amanda barely seemed to have noticed at all. She was eating, but her movements were mechanical and repetitive.
“What time do we have to leave for school from here?” asked Jamie.
Joe shook his head. “There’s no need for school today, son. It’s more important to be together as a family.” The two of them had called out sick from work first thing this morning. When she’d come downstairs to cook breakfast, Lee had asked to borrow their phone so he could do the same. At the time, Amanda had still been ensconced in the blankets on their pull-out couch. She’d finally gotten up about the time Carrie had finished breakfast, and her hair was still in disarray.
Jamie was picking at the remains of his scrambled eggs. “Why?”
“What do you mean?” asked Joe.
“Why do we need to be together? I mean — yeah, I get that we’re all sad and everything, and me too, but what are we going to be doing?”
“There’s a lot to do,” answered Joe. “Some phone calls and decisions to be made, and we’ll probably go out and meet with some people later.”
“You will, you mean,” said Jamie. “But what about me? I don’t even have another change of clothes here, and Mom and Lee are still in yesterday’s —”
“I’ll go over to the house later,” said Lee. “Pick up some things. Is there anything special you’re going to want, sport?”
He shrugged. “Depends on how long we’re staying here.”
Lee sighed, looking at Amanda before scrubbing a hand across his scalp. “I’m not sure yet. But probably no more than the weekend.”
Carrie blinked. “Are you sure you can go back to the house that soon?”
“We’ll go to my apartment if we have to. Jamie can sleep on the couch. It’s not a pull-out, but it’s pretty comfortable.”
At that, Jamie groaned. “I’d rather stay here, where I have a bed.”
Amanda, who had kept staring at her plate once she’d cleaned it, finally stirred. “No. I — please, Joe. I need — I…” she trailed off.
Joe gave her a long look, concern written all over his face. “We don’t need to decide now,” he finally said. “You’ll be staying here for another day or so at least.”
“Why?” asked Jamie again. “What are we going to do?”
“Don’t you understand?” asked Amanda, her voice wavering and, thought Carrie, unnecessarily loud. “Mother and Phillip died yesterday, Jamie. There are a million things we have to do. Talk to the funeral home. Let everyone else in the family know and see how many of Mother’s friends are in her address book. Write the obituary — obituaries. Call the insurance companies and find out how quickly I can get another car. Figure out what to do with their things and how I’m going to handle the hospital bills and what we’re supposed to do to go on from here because parents aren’t supposed to bury their children. Especially not alongside their own parents! It’s not fair and it’s not right and I don’t know what else but I do know that everything’s all wrong at the moment and the last thing on anyone’s mind is work or school!”
An awkward silence followed her outburst. Lee, who had put his hand on her arm, was the first to break it. “Amanda, you need to keep your strength up. Take another bite of your breakfast.”
“Breakfast?” She turned on him. “You’re concerned about whether I eat? Don’t you understand? Half my family’s gone!” She leapt to her feet, the chair toppling over behind her. Tears were streaming down her face. “And they’re not coming back! Who cares about whether I eat right, right now?”
Lee had also gotten up. “I do. Jamie does.”
“We do,” said Carrie. “That’s why we’re staying together. We can lean on each other —”
“Oh, spare me!” At that, Amanda dashed out of the kitchen toward the living room. Lee gave them an apologetic look before he followed her.
Jamie’s face had reddened, and he was blinking back tears of his own. “I know they died yesterday,” he whispered. “Why does Mom think I don’t?”
“She doesn’t,” said Carrie. “She’s upset and overwhelmed.”
“But she said —”
“People sometimes say things they don’t mean when they’re hurting,” she explained. “Once she’s calmed down, she’ll probably come back in and apologize to you.” As the words came out of her mouth, Carrie decided she’d make sure of it. It would be a delicate conversation, but Amanda needed to remember that she wasn’t the only one who was standing in the darkness of grief. They all were.
Jamie lowered his eyes to his plate again.
“Here,” said Joe, reaching for the pitcher of orange juice. “Why don’t you have a little more, and after that you and I can clean up. It’s only fair to Carrie, since she —” he broke off pouring into Jamie’s glass, face crumpling as he pulled his hand back toward him. It was badly bruised, she realized, and there was also some swelling.
“Your hand,” she said. “What happened?”
He shook his head, the pain leaving his expression, but she could see that it was only due to effort. “It’s all right.”
“Joe.”
“Okay. I ah, I reacted badly yesterday myself. But I’m able to use the hand, so nothing’s broken. It’ll go away in a few days.”
She didn’t point out that he hadn’t been able to use his hand just now. Not long enough to complete the action of pouring juice, anyway. “There’s some pain medicine upstairs. I think we have both aspirin and acetaminophen.”
“Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I think I’d better. Jamie, why don’t you and Carrie finish up while I go up and get it.”
His eyes flicked up briefly, but Jamie didn’t otherwise react to the situation. His hands shook slightly as he reached out for the orange juice himself.
“Hey,” she said. “You want to talk about it?”
He shrugged.
“All right.” She stood up, beginning to gather the plates.
“Can you wait?” asked Jamie. “I’m gonna help, like Dad asked me to. Soon as I finish this glass of juice.”
Carrie sat back down. “That’s nice of you, but I really can do it.”
“No, I want to.” He stopped and took a big gulp. “It’ll give me something to do.”
“There’s plenty to do here.”
He shook his head. “All those things Mom said? That was grown-up stuff. I didn’t hear anything that I’m going to be doing. I might as well go to school.”
“Do you really think you’d be able to pay attention in class?”
“Yes!” he insisted, but then his eyes dropped again. “No,” he mumbled. “I guess not. I just — what am I supposed to do, Carrie? I mean, Phillip’s not here anymore and most of our stuff is at the house anyway, and I finished that book I was reading the last time I was here. We can’t watch TV because Mom and Lee are in the living room and there’s nothing really to do outside except for the playground and that’s for little kids. Phillip would tease me if I —” he broke off, swallowing as the tears spilled out of his eyes. “Except I guess he won’t, will he?”
She scooted over to the chair beside him. “No, love. I’m sorry.”
His fists clenched and he rocked slightly, struggling for control. “No. No, I’ve got to be strong. Mom and Dad and you and Lee, you all need me to be on my best behavior right now. And I’m trying, I really am, but I just…” he trailed off with another gulp.
Carrie put her hand on his shoulder. “You’re actually doing really well, Jamie.”
He breathed heavily for a moment and then turned to face her. “But I don’t understand this, Carrie! I mean, I know what’s going on, but I don’t know how to feel or what to think, and when I try to do something there’s nothing to do but feel and think, and I don’t want to do that right now. I need to — to — to do something….” he trailed off as he began crying in earnest.
Wrapping her arms fully around his shoulders, she pulled him close. He responded by dragging their chairs together and she wondered, if he’d been smaller, whether he might have tried to crawl into her lap. As it was, it felt as though he was clinging to her for dear life. Maybe he was. There was a lump in her throat, but she pushed it away. Clearing the breakfast dishes wouldn’t take that long. There had to be something else she could assign as a task, something that wasn’t related to the situation and would serve as a distraction.
Jamie began to stiffen. “No, no, I can’t do this.”
She let him push her back far enough that they were no longer embracing, but kept her hands on his. “Why not? It’s normal to be sad.”
“I told you. I gotta be strong, and besides, men don’t cry.”
“Yes, they do. Your dad does, anyway. So does Lee.”
That earned her a skeptical look.
“Your dad cried just last night,” she said. “We both did, after everyone went to bed.” They’d clung to each other in a way not unlike the way Jamie had been doing a moment before. Joe had cried himself to sleep. She’d remained awake for a long time, trying to still her thoughts enough to rest, but she’d ended up having to wait until exhaustion took over.
“What about Lee?”
When she’d tiptoed down the stairs this morning, she’d found him already awake, sitting up with his back against the couch while he held Amanda and stroked her hair. She’d been utterly still, staring out at nothing, a numb look on her face. He’d been resting his head on hers, tear tracks on his cheeks, although he’d turned away when he’d realized she was there. She’d left quickly to give them both some privacy, but surely, he would understand if she used him as an example now.
“He cried, too, Jamie,” she said. “And he’s worried about your mother. That’s why he went after her just now.”
“I’m worried about her, too,” he whispered.
“We all are,” she confirmed. She could hear Joe’s footsteps as he came down the stairs and paused at the bottom. Then she heard the murmur of his voice in the living room. Lee’s voice was equally quiet as he responded.
She didn’t hear Amanda’s voice.
“I have an idea,” suggested Carrie. “Let’s clear the breakfast dishes, and then I know something we can do for your mom. She and Lee don’t have a change of clothes here, so someone’s going to have to go back to your house.”
His eyes widened. “You mean we’ll go home?”
She took a breath, remembering Lee’s words over breakfast. “Not yet. Your mom’s not yet ready. But what we can do is make a list of the things she’ll need, so that whoever goes over there doesn’t forget anything. We’ll make one for you, too, since you don’t have that much here.”
He nodded, his expression becoming determined. “Okay. I can do that. But before they do that, can we get my school things out of your car? I left them there last night.”
“Of course. I’ll get them right now.”
“Thanks.” Standing up, he started going around the table, picking up dishes. “What about school? Can we call and get my assignments, at least, so I’m not so far behind when I do go back?”
Carrie watched him thoughtfully for a moment before leaving the room. Jamie was a serious student, but under most circumstances, he wasn’t interested in going to school any more than any other child. This repeated insistence that he needed to go now was unusual, and she realized, not necessarily a good sign. Neither was his apparent eagerness to do a chore.
Picking up the car keys from where they lay on the counter, she decided she, too, would make a stop before coming back into the kitchen. Requesting her stepson’s assignments would give her a reason to call and talk to his school counselor. He or she might have some recommendations about how to break through Jamie’s denial and avoidance. She just hoped they would work.