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“Maybe she took that man with her when she went.”
From the mouths of babes comes wisdom…I wrap my arm around Josh’s shoulders and we continue on toward the bird bath. “I won’t let him hurt you ever again. I promise. I swear it.” When we get to the fountain, I sit down on the edge of it and position Josh right in front of me. “But, Josh, you need to tell me when something like that is going on. I can’t protect you if I don’t know what’s happening.”
His forehead wrinkles. “I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to protectyou.”
I’m so close to tears at this point. I swallow hard and remind myself thatIam the adult here. “My sweet boy, you have too much on your shoulders. Let me carry some of the load.”
He only shakes his head again. “You’re having a baby. I can share the load.” He nods with finality, as though that’s the end of it. His jaw is set in that stubborn square, the one that reminds me so much of his mother.
I’m seeing her more and more now in her children. As much as it breaks my heart, it also makes me feel like we’re not so far apart anymore, she and I.
“Can you do me a favor then?” He nods begrudgingly. “Will you speak to a therapist? I understand that you want to take care of your family, Josh. But sometimes, you have to put your own oxygen mask on first.”
“Like in airplanes?”
“Exactly like that. So will you agree to speak to someone who can help?”
He hesitates, then nods once more. “Okay, Aunt Em.”
I kiss his forehead. “That’s my boy.”
We spend the next twenty minutes sitting by the bird bath, enjoying the water, sunlight, and the few brave crows who are willing to venture close to us.
Every time I see Josh smile at their squawking, I get all warm inside. But the feeling is short-lived. He’s eight years old. He shouldn’t need a therapist at this age.
Bad guardian.
Bad mother.
Bad person.
I need to talk to Phoebe. I need a shoulder to lean on. I need to hear my friend tell me that I may be a flawed person, but I’m not a terrible one.
I may not believe her.
But it would help to hear it all the same.
* * *
I slow down the hallway when I hear Ruslan’s voice booming from inside his office. “What do you mean, you ‘forgot’ to add it to the schedule? I reminded you three times yesterday!”
I don’t hear the other part of the conversation so I’m assuming that whoever he’s yelling at is on the phone.
“JesusfuckingChrist. What time did you say?… It’s 4:00 P.M. right now, Melissa. I was supposed to be there half an hour ago.”
I cringe. I wouldnotwant to be Melissa right now.
I wait for the conversation to end before I knock twice. “What?” Ruslan bellows from inside.
Too late to back out now.I open the door and walk in.
The moment he sees me, his eyes flash with darkness and he scowls. “What is it?”
“Bad time?”
Endless piles of paperwork cover the surface of his desk. So much of it that there isn’t a trace of mahogany to be seen through all the scattered reams.
“The fuck does it look like?”
