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“Okay,” I said. “If that’s your choice. Ben, you can go next.”
Leann’s mouth dropped open in anger and surprise at me for not going along with whatever script she was running in her head. I barely had a chance to ask Ben what his painting was when I heard Leann shriek, and I turned just in time to see her throw a tub of blue fingerpaint at me.
It hit me in the chest, and didn’t hurt much, but it startled the hell out of me. Not to mention how the blue paint exploded all over me and the living room.
I stood in shock, unable to move. I couldn’t believe that a nine-year-old could be this extreme in her behaviors, but I was wrong.
“Leann,” I said as calmly as I could, “I would like for you to come here, please. Ben, Katie, play your games.”
The younger two kids picked up controllers and started to play some racing game while I pulled Leann aside. I sat her in a chair in the dining room and grabbed a wet rag so I could clean her hands.
“So, do you want to tell me why you got so mad?” I asked. I knew it wasn’t usual for a kid her age to behave like that.
“I wanted to play Nintendo, too,” she said, sniffling.
“Then why wouldn’t you show me the picture?”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes as she said, “Because I painted me punching Kyle Gordon in the face.”
I tried to not snort with laughter, knowing that this was a serious thing, since I’d asked her to paint about her day.
“And why would you paint that? Did you hit him?”
“No,” she said. “But I wanted to.”
“Why?”
Leann began to full on sob, and I used the clean side of the cloth to wipe her face and clear her tears.
“Because he said his mom beat cancer because she was strong and wanted to stay so bad.”
“And why did that bother you so much?”
“Because… why did my mom have to die? Was it because she wasn’t strong, or because she didn’t want to stay?”
I wanted to pull her into a hug, but I was very aware of the blue paint still all over me.
“Because…” I said, trying to choke back my own tears. I was already on the verge of breaking down about Max, and this was just a step beyond that. “Because sometimes, no matter how strong someone is, or no matter how much they want to stay, they can’t. Some people just get too sick, and I’m sorry that happened to your mom. But I promise you, your mom didn’t want to leave you.”
Leann nodded and sniffled.
“Thanks,” she said after a minute more of pulling herself together. “For not yelling at me.”
“Why would I yell at you?” I asked.
“Our old nanny used to yell a lot. She’d send me to my room and tell Ben and Katie how bad I was.”
I had to bite my lip from saying what I really felt about the situation, wanting to condemn the woman for the way she handled a young child. But that didn’t feel appropriate in front of Leann, so I simply said, “You’re welcome,” before giving her my hand to help her to her feet.
We went back to the living room, and I said, “Ben, Katie, we’re going to put the games down for now. Why don’t you both go pick out a book to read while Leann and I clean up the living room.”
“Okay,” Katie said as Leann looked at me. She went to the shelf, and Ben followed.
“Now, Leann,” I said quietly. “Have you ever used the carpet cleaner before?” She shook her head. “That’s okay. I’m going to show you.”
Every second I had to remain calm with her was agony. I had to fight the urge to just cry over my failed relationship, knowing that it hadn’t even failed—it just wasn’t going to continue, and to avoid getting the blue paint all over me onto anything else.
I showed Leann how to fill the tank of the machine with solution and then run it over the rug to wash, then rinse and dry.
