Family Matters (13 page)

“I'm not sure, kiddo,” his dad said, kissing him.

“Megan thinks it does. She saw a shirt that does it on TV.”

His dad smiled. “You want to go to the office with me? This would be a good day to come, if you're not tired. You can meet some of my patients that I always talk about.”

“Yeah, Dad! I want to—”

“Okay.” His dad shifted into first gear. “We're on our way.”

When they arrived at the office, Michael introduced Cody to Inez, the nurse, and Chris Bell, the receptionist. Cody made friends with the kids in the waiting room and even got to sit in on one of his dad's appointments. “This is my son, Cody,” Michael said, introducing him to Bill and Marge Josephs. “I didn't think you'd mind if he sat in with us.”

“Not at all,” Bill bellowed in his Central Texas drawl. He said “at all” in one word.
Atall.
“You figurin' on growing up to be a doctor some day, son?”

Cody gave him a straight answer. “I don't think so. People keep asking me that question but I'm not old enough to have it all figured out yet.”

“Guess what,” Bill said, leaning toward him conspiratorially and pointing to the rows and rows of wrinkles around his eyes. “I'm not old enough to have it all figured out yet, either!”

“Let's get this over with, Bill,” Michael said, pointing toward the examining table. “Get right on up there and let me have a look at you.”

“Good luck catching him,” his wife teased. “He's moving so fast these days, I have a
horrible
time catching him. I have a horrible time making him do what I want.”

“Honey,” Bill said. “It's all your frame of mind. When there comes the time that
I
want to do what
you
want me to do, then I'll let you catch me.”

Michael shot a grin at Bill. “Been feeling good, huh?”

“The best. Like a kid. Got so much energy, I don't know what to do with it.”

“Right,” Marge said, winking at Cody.

“Can't decide whether to go fishing or go golfing or go dove hunting or just hang out with the boys. And I've got these two horses named Dan and Kimbo that need riding all the time.” He leaned down close to Cody. “You like to ride horses? Have your dad call me up and we'll take you out for a ride.”

“Hard decisions,” Marge interjected. “Too bad you don't consider fixing the doorbell as one of your heart-wrenching choices. Or how about finding the leak that's ruined all my soaps underneath the bathroom sink?”

“But,
Marge,
” he said in the exact same tone of voice Cody used when he said “But,
Mom.
” “I'm
retired.
”

“Okay. Let's check you out now,” Michael said again. Bill hoisted himself up onto the table. “Good.” Marge and Cody stayed silent while Michael noted Bill's blood pressure and listened to his heartbeat. “Your blood pressure's lower. Medication's working,” Michael finally said. “You
are
taking them like you're supposed to? And you're following my other instructions?”

“He's doing everything you told him just like he does everything
I
tell him,” Marge confirmed.

“Ma-a-arge,” Bill drawled. “Don't give me away now. Yes, I'm taking those confounded pills.”

“It's for your own good, you old coot,” she said.

“Ma-a-arge.”

Michael shook his head at both of them while Cody laughed. They put on quite a show. “Bill,” he began. Then he glanced at Cody again. Cody made him see the humor here in its proper perspective. He walked over to his stubborn patient and slapped him on the back. “Bill, you're in good shape. You're eighty-four years old, you've got a heart that's getting stronger, your cholesterol level is low and it's clear that you're moving fast enough to keep Marge on her toes. I'm not going to lecture you about this, but keep the coffee down to two cups a day if you possibly can.”

“I can do that, Doc,” Bill said, guffawing. “I surely can.”

Michael and Cody talked about Bill later on that evening on the way to Michael's first therapy session with his son. “Dad,” Cody said as Michael lifted him out of the car and carried him to the gym. “That guy was funny.”

“Oh, he's a character, all right.”

Cody's arms clamped around the back of Michael's neck. “I liked him.”

“Me, too,” Michael said, glad to think of something besides the upcoming therapy. For weeks he'd wanted to be a part of this. Now that the time had come, he felt totally inept. He'd performed therapy with Cody often alone in his room. But he'd never been able to arrange his schedule so he could take part in the groups. Jennie had always done it. “A doctor's not supposed to have favorites but I've got to admit Bill's one of mine. He always makes me laugh when I need it most. He's a good friend.”

“His wife made me laugh, too. She ought to do like Mom. Mom always calls the plumber when we get a leak under
our
sink.”

Michael's warning signals shot up. He wasn't about to let himself be drawn off in
this
direction. “Bill was very sick a while back. But he had surgery and now he's doing much better.”

“Sorta like me, Dad?” Cody asked as they bobbed along.

“Yeah,” Michael answered. “Sort of like you.”

Andy met them in the hallway and took Cody's face in her hands. “Boy, have we missed
you
around here lately. How are things at home? How are you feeling?”

“I'm feeling real good. Dad took me to his office today and I got to meet all the patients.”

Andy winked up at Michael and instantly put him at ease. “What a great way to spend your first week out of the hospital. Visiting a doctor's office.”

“Oh, it was fun. I got to meet Bill Josephs and Dad checked him all over and his wife kept teasing him because he wouldn't fix things…”

Other children began gathering for the session. “Come on in, you guys,” Andy called, beckoning to them. Turning back to Cody, she said, “Mark said you did
great
at swimming.”

“It was fun.”

Michael found a chair where he could set Cody down. For the next twenty minutes he watched while Andy showed each child how to paste funny ears and noses on pieces of paper to form faces. Next she led each of them in a rigorous clown pantomime. Michael was laughing and Cody was sweating by the time they finished.

“Now it's time for the parents to join in,” Andy said, nodding at the adults. “Bring your son or daughter over here and find a comfortable place on the mats.” She turned on a CD of music and instructed them. “Start with the arms. Like this.”

Jennie had spent hours writing down these directions for him. He had his written instructions beside him now. But reading directions and actually performing hands-on therapy in the middle of a room full of people were two entirely different things. He grasped Cody's leg just atop the knee and began to maneuver it. He moved the leg again…again…before his son cried out. “Ouch, Dad! You're hurting me.” He was shocked to see Cody biting his lip, trying to hold the tears back.

Stricken, Michael dropped Cody's leg. Around him the other parents continued to work with their children's muscles. “Cody, I'm sorry, son.”

“It's okay, Dad.”

A light film of sweat covered the little boy's face.

“Your mother never would have let that happen. She knows how to do this better than I do.”

“Dad, don't worry. It didn't hurt that much.”

“Kiddo. I'm
really
sorry.”

Andy appeared at Cody's side. “Need help over here?”

“I'm hurting him,” Michael said.

“Here. Let me show you.” The physical therapist knelt and took Cody's leg in two competent hands, rotating his ankle just a bit. “When you're doing a group exercise like this one, you want to work the muscle at this angle. See? Like this.” The leg moved better for her, like a glider on a track, to and fro, to and fro. “Now. You try it.”

“I'm afraid I'll hurt him.” Oh, the great doctor who gave shots and pushed on sore muscles and gave more than his fair share of stitches! The great doctor who always said, “This won't hurt but a minute!”

“It always seems scarier than it is,” Andy reassured him.

During the remainder of the session, Andy had to help him through six more exercises. That night, while Cody lay sleeping, his breath coming in light, even waves, his mouth slightly open, Michael sat staring at the wall across from him, his Bible unopened at his side. He felt ashamed of himself, that he'd fought so hard to keep Cody, that in the end it had been so easy, that he had been thinking of his own needs when Cody needed so much from him.

Father, even in following my faith, have I been relying on my own pride?

Michael knew now, more than anything, what he had to do. He waited that night until Cody's sleep became deep and heavy before he summoned the courage to telephone her. He sat in the huge chair beside the hearth and dialed the number from memory, a number that once had been his own.

It rang four times before she answered. “Hello?”

“Jennie.” He hesitated. “It's me.”

Total silence. Then a quick “Hello, Michael.”

He didn't say anything else. He couldn't. He didn't know how to say it.

She sensed his wariness and suddenly panicked. “Michael? Is he all right? What's wrong?”

“Cody's fine, Jen. Just fine.”
But no thanks to me,
he thought wryly.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared me. It always scares me now when someone calls.”

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

His heart started pounding. Why had he done this? Why had he been so all-consumed with this crazy idea of calling her? Without confessing to her how totally inadequate he felt, he had absolutely nothing else to say. “I wish we could go back to Six Flags,” he said at last.

“Me, too,” she said quietly.

The silence came again. “I don't have a sense of my own competence anymore,” he said. “I don't know what God is trying to show me.”

“Michael.” He heard it in her voice, then. She was surprised he had confessed such a thing to her.

So he opened up to her, knowing he couldn't turn back. “I got lost in the group therapy session today,” he said simply. “I got into that place and I didn't know how to do anything.”

Jennie set the hand towel aside, gripped the phone against her ear. “You'll do better after you practice with him.” She was honestly saddened that the scheduling and the split-up of therapy had worked to Michael's disadvantage. She couldn't really picture Michael being incompetent at anything. It shocked her to hear him say he didn't know what
God
was doing. He'd always worn his newfound faith like a badge of honor. He always acted like he could do no wrong, now that he was a Christian.

He sighed, a long, lonely sound that immediately revealed to her how lost he felt.

There was no stopping it. She knew now what she would do.
He needs me,
she thought with a triumphant thrumming of her heart.
Everything else might be lost to us. But he needs me for this.

Her question, when it came, came in a whisper as hushed as the flicker of a bird's wings. And she knew, even as she asked, that she was making herself vulnerable to him again.

“You want to go together on Friday? I could stand beside you and give you the crash Cody course.”

She pictured him rocking from nervousness in his huge, comfortable recliner and now stopping, leaning forward. “What about Cody?”

“You'll have to explain to him that I'm coming to help him and not to be with you. You've got to make
sure
he understands that. Just tell him it's because you did so badly in class today and you want to do better. Tell him it's the only thing we could think of to help you.”

He gave a little humph of indignation and said softly, “I'll make sure he understands that much. We'll have a man-to-man talk.”

“Be gentle with him,” she said, still quietly. “That's it, then.”

“Are you sure this is the best thing to do, Jennie?”

“Yes,” she said, drawn by his humility, knowing full well everything she was risking. “I'm sure.”

A
s Jennie stood beside the window waiting for Michael and Cody to pick her up, she felt as if she'd stepped into a bottomless chasm that might swallow her whole.

It had seemed perfect and right, though it had been difficult, when they'd spent time together at the hospital and made decisions for Cody when he was ill. Today, however, signaled a new phase in their relationship with each other, and with their son. Today each of them would stand in the other's territory, side by side, and Cody would see them doing it.

She started when she saw the BMW round the corner. She grabbed her purse, trying to quiet the loud thudding of her heart.

“Hey, Mom!” Cody called as she climbed in behind him.

“How are ya, kid?” she asked, kissing him. “You look bigger than you looked the other day.” She glanced at Michael's reflection in the rearview mirror. She saw the gratefulness in his eyes and didn't know how to respond. “Are you two ready for this?”

“Yep!” Cody said happily.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Michael agreed. And Jennie decided that Michael sounded happy, too.

“Good.”

Cody jabbered all the way to the hospital. He talked about swimming and spending the night with Taylor and his new friends at the pool. He talked about the golden Labrador puppy, Jehosophat, who had moved in next door.

Jennie started worrying. Cody seemed far too animated. Was he again hoping that she and Michael would reconcile?

The drive to the hospital seemed an eternity. When they finally arrived at the gym, and had set Cody down to visit with his friends before class, she cornered Michael. “Did you talk to him?”

“I did.”

“What did you say?”

“You want to know how our talk went? I told him as best I could that we had an old, deep connection between us, because we had
him
together, a child we both loved.

“I told him that it was right, sensible, that we would be together to support him. I told
him
it was good for us to treat each other as old friends. That it should make him feel safe.”
And that's what they were doing, weren't they?

“Good,” she said. “I didn't know exactly how you were going to put it.”

They started back toward the group of children and parents. “I wanted to make sure he understood,” Michael said, searching her face for any reaction.

Yes, yes,
her face seemed to tell him.
You said all the right things.

For Jennie, it was a welcome reprieve to begin working with Cody again. When it came time for the parents to participate, Michael carried Cody over to the mats. Then he stepped back so Jennie could work with him. She motioned to Michael to squeeze in next to her.

“I'll show you how,” she whispered as he felt a rush of gratitude for her. “It's a snap. You'll get the hang of it and you'll be the best one here.”

“There isn't much chance of that.”

“Oh, yes there is.”

The first few exercises went well. Michael learned the correct angle and placement of Cody's feet, hips and knees. But as Jennie began to work with Cody's arms, she could feel him tightening up against her. “Hey,” she said to Cody as Michael looked on. “What are you doing? Your muscles are getting tight, little one.”

“It hurts, Mom.”

“You've got to push ahead through this part.”

She felt Michael's reassuring hand on her back. She closed her eyes and sat back on her heels, easing into his touch, forgetting for a moment where she was, who she was, who
he
was.

Oh.
And suddenly, as she thought it, she realized it felt almost like a prayer.
What would it feel like to always have something like this in my life? Something to support me?

For the rest of the session, the three of them laughed and told jokes. And, as they drove home together, Cody fell fast asleep in the back seat of the car.

They drove on in silence, but this time the silence felt comfortable between them. Michael pulled the car up in front of her house. Before Jennie had time to reach for the handle, he'd parked the car and jumped out.

“It's not dark. And this isn't a date. You don't have to walk me to the door.”

“I want to.”

She climbed out. He strolled with her up the walk and waited while she dug her keys out of her bag. When she turned to thank him, he grasped her forearms with gentle, certain hands. “Jennie. Please—”

“Michael—” She glanced back at the car and saw Cody sleeping there, his lashes resting against his cheeks as lightly as gauze. “I don't think—”

He held up a hand, stopping her words. “You have to know this,” he said, persisting. “You have to know how much I needed you today. You have to know how much it meant that you came.”

“I think I know.” Their eyes met in the growing darkness.

He gave her a half smile, a bittersweet smile made more melancholy because he tilted his head at her like their little boy. Then, without another word he drew her close, his arms tightening warm and strong around her.

“I just wanted to do this again,” he whispered. He held her as he had never held her before, like a drowning man seizing a life raft. “Oh, Jen, I've missed you.”

“Me, too.”

Their eyes met again and held in the dimness of the porch light. As though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though it weren't the very thing they'd been fighting so fiercely, he took her into his arms and kissed her for a long, long time. When he stopped, they were both breathless.

“Should I tell you I'm sorry?” He searched her face.

“What is this?” she asked him. “What is this?” She stopped. “It isn't what you told Cody. It isn't just
old friends.
”

For minutes after that, they stood fiercely entwined, not moving, Jennie burying her face against Michael's chest, where she could hear his breath. And even after he drove away and she stood there alone, she could still feel the strong, steady beating of his heart.

Jennie cleaned all day when it came time for Cody to move back in with her. She nervously dawdled around the house, straightening things she'd already straightened twice, rearranging pillows on the sofa, pausing in the doorway to Cody's room and just looking at it.

Michael arrived at five-thirty. “Hi, you two!” She held the door open for them. “I thought you'd never get here.” She ruffled Cody's hair. “It's about time you started hanging around this place again.”

“I'll be glad to be hanging around this place, too.”

She looked up and past her son's head. “Hello, Michael.”

“Hello, Jennie.”

“Can I see my room?” Cody asked.

“Sure,” Jennie told him.

“Here,” Michael said, bending to lift him.

Jennie touched Michael's elbow. “No. Let me try.”

“You sure you want to?”

She nodded. She'd have to carry him around plenty soon enough. She might as well start while Michael could help her.

He stood behind her while she gave Cody a tight, giant hug and lifted him. “Agh,” she groaned, teasing him. “You've been growing again!”

“I'm trying to grow!”

They made it up the hallway without knocking the walls down. They only ran into two things, a watercolor painting of bluebonnets that swung crazily on the wall when they bumped it, and Lester the cat, who squalled as if he'd been mortally wounded when Jennie stepped on his tail.

“Oh, Lester,” she sighed. “I didn't even know you were down there.”

She plunked Cody down on his bed and propped pillows all around him.

She stood back, giving him some room. “You want us to stay with you?”

“Naw. I just wanted to come in here and remember everything.”

“Okay.” She wasn't certain she and Michael should go. “You'll call me if you need me?”

“I'll call you.”

“He'll be okay,” Michael reassured her. Then he turned to his son. “I guess I'll go, Cody.”

“Okay, Dad. Thanks.”

He bent down on his knees. “You be good for Mom, you hear?”

“I will.”

“You'll remember everything we talked about?”

Cody nodded.

“Okay. Love you, son.”

“Love you, too, Dad.”

This was the hardest part for both of them, telling him goodbye.

Jennie followed Michael along the hallway. “You're going to miss him, aren't you?”

“Terribly.”

He turned to face her. He had nothing else to say but he couldn't quite bring himself to leave.

“Can I come pick him up and continue to take him to Andy's sessions?” he asked.

“You want to?” she said, surprised. She'd figured that, with Cody gone, he'd go back to spending long hours with his patients and at the hospital.

“I
do
want to,” he said. “We've been doing fine in there—” he shot her a sheepish grin “—now that I know what I'm doing. Thanks for coming with us.”

She turned and looked out the window at nothing. “You're welcome.”

He watched her for a moment. Then he stepped up behind her. “Jennie? What is it? What's the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“It isn't nothing. I can tell.”

“Why do you try to read my mind?” she asked. “Why do you think you know me so well?”

“Because I do,” he told her. “We were married once. I can't help it.” Then he asked her very quietly, “Are you afraid to have Cody here?”

She turned slowly to face him. “I am.” Then she took a deep breath and said in a rush, “I fought so hard for this.”

He touched her on the chin. “You'll do fine.”

As she watched the man who had been such an integral part of her life for so long, she realized she wasn't being completely honest. “There's more to it than that, Michael. It's more than Cody. It's you. I'm realizing that, when I'm afraid, I'm depending on you. I've started
needing
you again.”

“No,” Michael said quietly. “No. You mustn't think it. It isn't me you need.” She looked a question at him. “You're Cody's mother. And, beneath it all—” here he paused and seemed to struggle with himself “—beneath it all, I don't think God could have picked anybody better for the job.”

For no reason at all, at Michael's words, Jennie remembered one fall when they'd gone to East Texas to cut firewood and they'd tumbled around on the ground in the acorns. She remembered their first little apartment in Dallas. She remembered watching him sleep one of the last nights they'd been together, his back an insurmountable mountain that marked his edge of the bed, when she had thought, “I don't know him anymore. And he doesn't know me.”

I don't think God could have picked anyone better than you for the job.

It isn't me you need.

If it wasn't Michael, what had brought her to this point of aching, to this feeling that something had to be lacking.

I
KNOW THE PLANS
I
HAVE FOR YOU
.

After all that had gone before between her and Michael, how could she have felt so free to tell him what she needed?

P
LANS TO PROSPER YOU AND NOT TO HARM YOU
. P
LANS TO GIVE YOU HOPE AND A FUTURE
.

Jennie didn't know where the sudden sense of desperation came from as the Bible verse came to mind. This sudden sense of something tugging at her heart. She'd gotten Cody here; she'd gotten what she needed.

It isn't me you need,
Michael had said.

What was it then?

The way I feel, God never would have picked me for this. God never would have picked me for any job.

She couldn't help wondering now, though, after Michael's words. Something inside her yearned to ask,
What if he's right? What if there's more?