The Inner Struggle: Beginnings Series Book 7 (20 page)

Joe looked down at that chocolate cake after Ellen had left. He debated if he should feel guilty at that moment. He could have felt guilty if that cake didn’t look so good, but it did. So foregoing the guilt like a cheating dieter, Joe indulged in Ellen’s cake, enjoying every bite of it that Frank left behind.

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Ellen immediately turned off the water in the kitchen sink at Dean’s house. She did so quickly when she thought she heard her name the called. Hearing the last of the dripping water, Ellen heard silence. There was no one calling for her, only silence. She turned the faucet back on and continued to wash the dishes, a task she set aside because she hated it. But it was either that or bathing the kids and that task bothered her more. Why Dean insisted on never using the dishwasher was beyond her. Under Beginnings’ conservation water rules, there were enough occupants in the house to run that dishwasher once a day, but Dean, like most people in Beginnings, found it more of a bother than a help. But Ellen and Henry found it a great place to hide the dirty dishes when there wasn’t time to do them by hand.

“Ellen!”

She stopped clanking dishes when she thought she heard Dean’s call.

“Ellen!”

She turned off the water, grabbing the towel and drying her hands as she walked to the steps. “Dean, are you calling me?”

“Please . . . please come here.”

She could hear the desperation in his voice. What had happened? Hurrying up the steps and stepping over Billy and Joey who argued in the hall, she walked to the bathroom where she knew Dean could be found. She could hear Brian’s whimpering cry when she got there. “Dean?” Stepping inside, she saw Dean sitting on the floor by the partially filled tub. His hands clenched tightly to Brian who fought him. Dean just stared out. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid to let him go. I can’t see him.”

“It’s all right, Dean.” Ellen grabbed the towel and moved to the tub. “Let him go.” She looked at Dean’s hands that held onto to the baby for dear life. “Dean.” She knelt by him. “Relax. It’s not going to come back if your pressure is up. Relax.” Her hands touched upon his to help him release the baby. She wrapped Brian in a towel and picked him up and released the water in the tub. Her voice changed to that ‘parent talking to a baby’ tone. “What did he do Bri? Huh? Was he making you take a bath longer than you wanted to?” Ellen turned her view to Dean who had brought his knees up close to his chest as he sat on the bathroom floor. “I’ll get him dressed.”

“I’m sorry, El.” Dean covered his face with his hand.

“Why are you apologizing?” She stopped in the bathroom doorway.

“I couldn’t handle the situation. I got scared.”

“Seeing, then not seeing is something frightening, Dean. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. How can I take care of these kids, El?” He lifted his head up to her. “How much longer am I going to be able to take care of them?”

“You’ll adjust Dean. It’ll take time.”

“Adjust?” Dean stood slowly up. “What would have happened, Ellen, if Brian would have fallen backwards? What if he got hurt? How would I have been able to help him if I couldn’t see him?”

“Close your
eyes, Dean. Close them.”

“Why?”

“Just close them.” She waited until he did. “Now reach out your hand and find Brain.” She moved quietly over.

Dean reached out to where he thought they were. His hand hit emptiness. “El?”

“Find him.”

Using her voice as a guide, Dean shifted his body. His hand reached out and touched the bare skin of the baby, half wrapped in a blanket.

“Where is your hand on him, Dean?”

Dean’s fingers spread. “His shoulder.”

“Keep your eyes closed and place your hand on his head.”

“This is stupid, El.”

“Do it.” She stayed calm.

Dean’s hand moved up to the wetness of the baby’s hair. “Hand on head. Point?”

“Seems to me Dr. Hayes, eyes opened or closed, you had no problem finding him.”

Dean opened his eyes. “I’m sorry I panicked. This was actually the first time my sight left me when I was doing something I couldn’t sit back and wait for it to return. Doing that would have left Brian unattended.”

“You’re thinking wrong there, Dean. You were with Brian. How would that have been leaving him unattended?”

Dean stuttered some in his answer, “You’re right.”

“You’re a very good father, Dean. If need be, your instincts will kick in.” Ellen leaned forward and kissed Dean on the cheek. “We’ll get through this. Whatever ends up happening, we’ll get through.” Ellen stepped back. “But for now, we have more preparations. Let’s get these kids to bed so we can work a little on my lessons before I have to head home.”

“Sounds good. Still want me to do bed detail and you do dishes?”

“Most definitely. I hate doing the bedtime thing. We’ve been standing here talking in this bathroom long enough. You’d better hurry and take this little guy before he . . . .” Ellen closed one eye and let out a soft throaty whine. “Too late.” She handed him to Dean. “He just peed on me.”

“El . . .” Dean cringed when the even wetter baby was placed into his chest and she walked away. He followed her. “What are you doing?”

“Stealing a shirt.” She went into his bedroom and opened a drawer.

“Not that one El. I like that one I’ll . . .” He watched her lift off the wet shirt she wore. “Never get that back.”

“Sure you will, Dean.” Ellen put on the fresh shirt. “Stop staring at me. You still do that.”

“Sorry. I know I won’t get it back.”

“Sure you will.” She paused in walking out of the room. “Of course,” She smiled. “If you end up really losing your sight, you’ll never know, will you?”

“Oh that’s wrong.” He walked behind her. “That’s really wrong. That is such an Ellen thing to say. I can’t believe . . .”

“Dean.” Ellen stopped on the top steps. “Deal with the kids.”

Still holding the wet baby, Dean watched Ellen go down the steps. A sense of gratefulness towards her hit him at that moment and then . . . something else. “God, Brain.” Dean balked and held the baby at an extended state as he carried him to the other room to dress him.

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“And then we’re sitting there . . .” Frank paused in his story, took a drink from his glass of wine and set down another plate on the table. “We’re not eating with those sticks, Henry.”

“Finish your story, Frank.” Henry continued cooking in the kitchen.

“Where was I?”

“You were sitting in the restaurant. Both of you had just had a fight with the people you were married to. Right there.”

“That’s right.” Frank set down the final plate and picked up his glass of wine. “We’re in the restaurant and this waitress sets down our coffees and turns to the next table. Anyhow, she bumps into something, I don’t know what and she fuckin dumps her tray on the floor. No big deal. A little interruption in my story I’m telling but no biggie. Then this woman stands up and starts to scream at this waitress, calling her dumb and so forth, really laying into the woman.”

“Poor waitress.”

“Yeah whatever. That’s not the point of the story. So, Ellen feels bad for her.”

“Ellen feels bad?”

“Go figure.” Frank shrugged and sipped his wine again. “So El is real nice to this waitress, trying to cheer her up, so the waitress cheers up.”

“Oh.” Henry removed the food from the pan. “As much as I’d like to tell you, Frank, that the story was funny, it isn’t. What was the funny part?”

“Fuck, Henry, I didn’t get there yet. I’m setting it up. So the waitress is hovering over the table and I’m asking about gravy. Legitimate question, we’re in a restaurant right? El says I’m rude, like other people. So the waitress softens her voice and says.” Frank softened his voice and took a female tone to it, “I don’t pay any attention to men.” Frank started to snicker. “Then El, not really hearing what the waitress said, tells the waitress, ‘neither do I’. I started laughing, telling Ellen that the waitress liked her. Next thing you know the waitress lays the bill on the table, runs her hand over Ellen’s and winks.” Frank laughed and sipped more of his wine.

“Wait. For visual purposes Frank, was she an attractive waitress?”

“No.”

“Too bad.”

“My sentiments exactly. Now if she was attractive, it would have really made for an interesting evening.” Frank raised his eyebrows. “Unfortunately she wasn’t. Kind of looked like a female version of, no not even female, she looked like Todd from Fabrics.” Frank enjoyed the open mouth disappointment look on Henry’s face. “So there went . . .” Frank turned to the sound of the front door opening. He immediately walked into the kitchen and dumped the remainder of his wine out and rinsed the glass. “Don’t tell her I was drinking.”

“Frank, why are you hiding . . . hey El,” Henry smiled when he saw her walk in.

“Hi guys.” Ellen kissed Henry on the cheek.

“What about me?” Frank asked. He grunted when she smacked him in the gut. “Thanks El. Why are you wearing Dean’s shirt?”

Ellen stopped walking from the kitchen. “How do you know I’m wearing Dean’s shirt?”

“I’m perceptive. Why are you wearing his shirt?”

“Your son pissed on me,” Ellen answered him.

“Which son? I have many.”

“What?” Ellen laughed her words. “Which one do you think, Frank? O.K. if you must know, Johnny was walking down the street and he thought it would be a fun thing to do.”

“Seriously. Which son?” Frank followed her into the dining room.

“Which one do you think? Brian.”

“What did you do, leave him without a diaper for too long?”

“Yes, Robert Young.” Ellen rolled her eyes trying to ignore him. “Henry, are we going to eat soon?”

“All done now, El. Did you want to wash up or did you already wash up at Dean’s, because we can wait for you.”

“It’ll only take a second to wash my hands.” She snickered and moved to the sink. “See Henry.” She turned it on and washed her hands while he put the bowls on the table. “All done.” She walked into the dining room, drying her hands.

“No El.” Henry shook his head. “I mean because Brian went to the bathroom on you. Did you need to wash up? We’ll wait.”

“I changed my shirt.” Ellen held it out. “What?” She noticed the stunned look on Henry’s face.

“El.” Henry looked offended. “El, that’s disgusting. Tell her Frank.”

“What?” Frank was confused. “Henry it’s baby pee. There’s nothing in it. Wait until you see what comes from a baby. Huh El?”

“Yep,” Ellen agreed.

Henry walked up to Ellen and sniffed her. “El, I can smell it on you.”

“Oh you cannot.” She pulled the shirt to her nose. “You’re crazy. Frank? Can you smell it?”

Frank grabbed hold of the shirt and smelled. “Nope. Henry’s nuts. Smells like a clean shirt.”

“Both of you are immune to the smell.” Henry’s hand waved about and he backed up and sat down. “Don’t be mad if I stay a distance from you until you’re clean, because I’ll gag. I will.”

“Henry, you always gag.” Ellen giggled and sat down. “So what did you guys talk about?”

Henry dished out the food for her. “Frank was telling me about what happened with you two in a Bob Evan’s Restaurant one time.”

“Oh Frank.” Ellen shook her head. “Are you telling the lesbian waitress story again? What brought this up?”

“I was digging through some stuff at the house and came across all those pictures Robbie stuck on the window while you guys were quarantined last year.” Frank helped himself to Henry’s food. “So El, how was Dean? And why was Brian running around without a diaper for so long?”

“Dean’s fine. Why you care I don’t know.” Ellen started to eat. “Henry this is good.” Then she started to ramble. “Brian wasn’t running around without a diaper. I was holding him after his bath and talking to Dean because he just had another one of his ep . . ep . . .ep.” She shut her mouth and continued to eat.

“Ep what, El?” Frank asked and noticed the eye contact between her and Henry. “What’s going on? What did Dean have another one of? He’s been acting weird lately. Is something wrong with him?”

Ellen wiped her mouth. “If you must know.”

“El,” Henry tried to stop her. “Don’t.”

Ellen ignored him. “I’ll tell you Frank. Dean has been suffering from a nervous condition. He has these paranoid episodes and he gets real jittery. They last only a few moments but sometimes I’m afraid he’ll go over the edge.”

Frank couldn’t eat. For fear of choking, he had to stop. First his shoulders started to bounce and then his whole body moved with the laughter that he left out. “Sorry.” He held up his hand as he leaned to the side of the stable and stood up. He paced toward the living room, laughed loudly, and returned a different and serious person. “For real?”

“Oh sure,” Ellen told him. “We think it’s the virus thing. We can’t be . . .” A knock at the door interrupted Ellen. “Is someone coming over?”

Frank pointed back. “I’ll get it. I’m already standing.”