The Tea Series Page 48

  Okay, so this time I couldn’t help but cry. Not a hand towel, get really ugly, and feel stupid kind of cry, but a get up and get Kleenex and blow your nose kind of cry.

  “To my point. The same event can look very different with the passage of time or through the eyes of another individual. What was once traumatic could now simply be a life lesson, if you allow it to be. If you hold on to the label of traumatized, that is also your choice. I prefer to let it go.”

  “I don’t want to be a jerk, Mom, but what happened to you as a child seems to have traumatized you. You kept it a secret for all those years. Then when you were telling us about it, first Daddy and then Teagan and me, it about killed you, Mom.”

  “It did nothing of the sort. A day of sadness does not kill. What you term keeping a secret, I think of as having it to myself. I see no reason for the world to know every detail of my life, good or bad. The fact that a person is a part of my life, no matter what the sort, no matter how much I love them or they love me, does not entitle them to a warrantless search of my soul, Cara Siobhan. There are many things about me you know little to nothing about. I do not hold to the new way of doing things.”

  “I know.”

  “But do you understand?”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Cara, you cannot be intimate with many. Intimacy does not dilute well. My most intimate relationship is with your father. Be it sexual or not, every moment your father and I have shared has been built on a foundation of that intimacy. It is why we choose not to fight or keep score or belittle each other. It is a choice. My next most intimate relationships are you and your brothers and sisters, but although we share a very close bond, it is not near that which I share with your father.”

  “I know.”

  “Think if I were to share the very heart of my soul with others. If I were to go on the computer and share the details of my life, what makes me smile or cry? It would dilute my life to the point that I would have little left for your father and all of you.”

  “I’m not sure the zillions of people on social media would agree.”

  “A zillion people sharing a bad idea does not a good idea make, love. I would wager that if you were to find one hundred people who had true intimacy in their lives, and questioned them honestly, would you find that they share intimate parts of their lives with more than a few? They might be on social media, but they would not be the narcissistic celebutantes that marry for hours and wonder why they can never find intimacy in a real relationship. They do not know what a real relationship is. They fall away from a true life and exist. I do not want that for myself or for any of you.”

  “I know. You’re right.”

  “I do not want to make it sound as if I do not think that whatever it was that Bernie did with you or to you should be ignored; that is not my goal, Cara. What I would like is for you to look at what happened and to do it from an adult point of view. When Teagan was young, she was attacked by that neighbor boy. Actually, the word attacked is inaccurate. What he did was more insidious. From a child’s perspective, she processed that as an event better left in the past, as she was concerned she was at fault and that she might even be held to account for his actions resulting in her violence toward him. From an adult point of view, she is able to see that what happened to her was what most would consider sexual abuse. Looking at it from a uniquely Teagan point of view, she has processed it as a small event in an otherwise happy childhood and has not given it the weight to interfere in her current life.”

  “Mom, I think most people who have been sexually abused, and there are way too many, would be totally offended that you think that you can categorize it away like that.”

  “You are not listening, love. You are allowing yourself the socially acceptable knee-jerk reaction.”

  “I’m lost.”

  “For Teagan, and Teagan alone, the incident was little more than a bad moment in a good life. It is Teagan’s life, and only Teagan is allowed to make that decision. What might have been an event that would change the future for some, did not change Teagan in ways that she is aware of, although I will tell you that every moment in your life changes every moment to follow.”

  “So what you’re saying is that I can decide not to let the stuff with Bernie bother me now?”

  “No, that is not at all what I am saying. What I am saying is that only you can decide the weight to give the actions or inactions of others. What one person considers an insult, another would brush off. What one person considers a hanging offense, another would give a slap on the wrist. We are not lemmings, Cara. All humans do not react the same way, nor should they.”

  “Okay, I get that. I think. But you have to admit that there are a few things in life that just suck and that no matter who you are, you are going to react the same way.”

  “I do not admit that at all. One person survives the Holocaust, and although those images will never leave them, they move forward with their lives. Another person suffers what you or I might see as an insignificant event, and they cannot get past it.”

  “Some people are stronger than others.”

  “To my eye, it has little to do with strength. It is about life lessons, love. Perhaps the person who cannot get past the lesser event has a life lesson involved, and it is that lesson the person is not learning. It has less to do with the event than the lesson.”

  “This is getting too esoteric for me, Mom. I just want to know what to do about the trunk. Should I open everything? Should I just pack it all away until some magical future date and hope that in time I’ll be able to handle it better? Do I open it all now and deal with whatever comes up? That’s Teagan’s plan. She thinks it’s better to deal with it now than later — and then get on with my life. I’m stuck.”

  “Love, I cannot make that decision for you.”

  “What would you do?”

  “It doesn’t matter what I would do; I am not you.”

  “Well, that’s real helpful.”

  “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, love.”

  “You had no problem telling me what to do when I was little.”

  “I prefer to think that I guided you into making good decisions, which has become a habit. Which is why I no longer need to guide you. You have grown to be a wonderful woman, Cara. You don’t need my direction any longer.”

  “Don’t ever say that, Mom. I’ll always need you.”

  “I would hope we have transitioned from need to desire, love.”

  “What?”

  “I believe that a healthy relationship with your adult children is not based on need but on the desire of all involved to be a part of a pleasurable relationship. You do not need me, Cara. You are more than capable of living a grand life without my input or involvement.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “I’m rather proud of that, love. I’ve raised my children in a way that they do not need me, but they still value me. Is that not the goal?”

  “But I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  “There will come a day, but let us pray that day does not come soon.”

  I refused to allow my brain to contemplate life without my mother, not even for a split second, because of the whole cosmic thing of getting what you imagine. I’ve always been told that you draw to yourself what you are most afraid of so that you learn to deal with the reality of it. Hell. No. Not going to conjure that up. Okay, conjure is the wrong word; it is more about manifestation, and I’m not even sure it is real, but I’m not taking the chance. Not on something this important. No way. I changed the subject. “So, you aren’t going to help me figure out the trunk thing?”

  “I think you already know what it is you want to do, Cara. You are just looking for me to agree with you.”

  “Of course that’s what I’m looking for. Hello?”

  My mother had the grace to chuckle.

  “I’ll not be scratching that itch for you, love.”

  “Well, damn.”

  “This
decision should be made by you and you alone. If you need my assistance or support, it is always available to you. You know that, love.”

  “I do. Thanks, Mom.”

  SIX

  I WAS WALKING over to the trunk, decision made, when my phone buzzed.

  A text from Suzi: I need a huge favor. Went to my doc appt, and they put me in the hospital. Lost most of my fluid. I’m fine. Gran will be here soon. Could you grab my bag from my apt so AJ can bring it later? Thx.

  As I was reading it, a text came in from A.J.: Suz in hospital. I’m in meeting. If I walk out, I’m screwed. Gran MIA. Can you go?

  I sent texts to both of them saying that I would grab Suzi’s hospital go-bag and head to the hospital. I made sure to add that I was thrilled to do it.

  I got the emergency key, grabbed Suzi’s bag from her apartment, changed my clothes, and remembered to layer; hospitals can be so cold. I grabbed some snacks. I doubt they will let her eat, but there’s no reason for the rest of us to starve. I grabbed some magazines and my e-reader. Made sure I had the charger for my phone — who knows why? — and ran out the door.

  When I got to the hospital, I got all turned around, but a gorgeous male nurse helped me find Suzi’s room. She had a private room, was lying in bed and watching TV. She looked fine. Seemed happy, if a little worried.

  I texted A.J. to let him know I was at the hospital and Suzi was fine. Not to worry, everything was under control.

  The doctor came in and checked on Suzi and said they were going to give her some meds to get the ball rolling. She’s full-term. The baby seems healthy and not stressed, but it’s time to get things moving.

  A few minutes later, a nurse came in and put some stuff in Suzi’s IV. She had a bunch of little bags and a big bag of solution. I didn’t even pretend to understand what was going on. Why question the professionals? They seemed to have everything under control. We sat around, chatted, talked about everything we could think of, and finally just sat together and watched television.

  A.J. and Suzi’s grandmother came and went. The doctor said there wasn’t much happening. It could be a while. A.J. had an important client dinner, and Suzi didn’t want her grandmother sitting there hour after hour. We all decided that I would sit with Suzi until it got closer to her time to deliver and then I’d call her grandmother and she’d come to be with Suzi in the delivery room. It’s only a six-minute drive from their grandma’s condo, so the doctors and nurses all agreed we’d be fine. Suzi might not have the baby until tomorrow.

  They adjusted Suzi’s medications a couple of times. She wasn’t really making any progress, according to her nurse, but she was starting to feel the pain. You could tell she was suffering, although Suzi doesn’t complain, so I didn’t really know how bad it was.

  They set up a little bed for me. The loveseat in the room extends, and the nurse brought in some sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. I dozed on and off. Every time Suzi moved I’d pop up to make sure she was okay. I admit it. I was starting to get really nervous about the whole thing. Something just didn’t feel right.

  Around midnight, the nurse came in again and asked Suzi how she was doing. Suzi said she was having problems dealing with the pain. The nurse asked if she wanted something for it. She said yes. The nurse confirmed she wanted something for the pain, left, came back a few minutes later, and put something in Suzi’s IV.

  It wasn’t long before Suzi was dozing too. Probably good, since she will need all of her strength to push that baby out when it is time.

  The doctor woke us both up in the morning. Not sure what time it was, but it was still dark outside.

  She wasn’t even a little bit amused. She said that when Suzi asked for the pain medication she’d all but stopped labor and now they were going to have to do a C-section.

  Suzi tried to defend herself, saying that she had no idea that was the consequence of her asking for relief.

  The doctor didn’t seem to believe her.

  I backed her up.

  The doctor didn’t seem to believe me either.

  I was about to get all righteous about it, when a group of people came into the room. One of the nurses handed me a bunch of paper garments and told me that I could follow the gurney down to the double doors, but then I was to sit in one of the chairs and wait for them to come get me. They would bring Suzi into the room first and prep her.

  I guess they could tell by the look in my eyes — that would be terror — that it wasn’t the plan for me to be in the delivery room. Or operating room. Or whatever.

  They were doing all kinds of stuff to Suzi already, and she had gone very still.

  “My Gran was going to be with me. She can be here in less than ten minutes.”

  “Sorry. We don’t have ten minutes. We’re going now.”

  “Is there something wrong with the baby?” Suzi was panicking.

  “Not at all, but there is an opening in the schedule, and we’re taking it. Either that or we wait until this afternoon, and I don’t want to put the baby through that.”

  I told Suzi, “You go and get ready, and I’ll call A.J. to come and pick up Gran on the way. You’ll be fine. I’ll be right there.”

  Suzi just nodded and let the medical people do what they needed to do.

  I called A.J. and explained. I let him know that I really didn’t want to go in with Suzi; surgery isn’t really on my list of most entertaining events, but what can ya do?

  I’d just tied the mouth cover thingy around my neck when they told me it was time to go into the operating room.

  Thank God.

  They had so many pieces of blue paper tacked up all over the place, all I could see was Suzi’s face. She was wearing the same bonnet thing I was. She didn’t have to cover her mouth though.

  The anesthesia person was really nice. Kind of explained that I should keep my head down, no looking behind the curtain — he made the Wizard of Oz reference clear — and said we were ready.

  It’s amazing how fast they do a C-section.

  It felt like one moment I was a little light-headed about the whole thing, the next minute they were telling Suzi she would feel some pressure but no pain, and a minute later they said that Suzi had a beautiful little girl.

  The doctor said she was beautiful.

  And big.

  And healthy.

  And I lost it.

  Suzi had a tear roll down her face, but she didn’t say a word.

  A minute later they were carrying the baby over to measure her and clean her up. They said I could walk over and take pictures.

  Thank God for cell phones.

  The baby was beautiful. Full head of dark hair. Big blue eyes. All her fingers and toes.

  I turned to walk back to report to Suzi.

  Big mistake.

  Big, big, mistake.

  They weren’t done with putting Suzi back together again.

  I never knew that they pull your innards and make them outards. And that the doctor pretty much stuffs all your innards back in. Handfuls. She was standing up on a step shoving innards around. At least that’s what it looked like to an untrained eye from across the room. (Just the thought of it makes me woozy.)

  I wasn’t sure if I should throw up or faint.

  Or both.

  Before I could process all that, the nurse was walking back toward Suzi’s head with the baby, and I was sitting on the little stool by her shoulder, and they were handing me the baby, and I was terrified that I’d pass out and drop her, but I couldn’t get myself to say anything.

  I was all sweaty. I couldn’t breathe right.

  Fortunately, they kind of placed the baby on Suzi’s shoulder, and all I had to do was make sure she was balanced. I wasn’t really holding her; I just had my hand there so she wouldn’t fall.

  By the time I could talk, I didn’t feel like I was going to faint anymore, so we were all good.

  They took the baby back and put her in the little transport thingy, and I followed them to the nursery.
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br />   They were giving the baby her first bath when A.J. and Gran showed up at the window to watch.

  I took lots of pictures and some video.

  My eyes locked with A.J.’s through the glass.

  There is something about sharing new life. I can’t explain it.

  They took the baby to recovery so that Suzi could try to feed her, and I followed along.

  The nurses were so nice. We explained about Gran not being able to be there for the birth, and they told me to go get her.

  Only one person at a time is allowed in recovery.

  Gran stayed with Suzi while A.J. and I went downstairs and had something to eat.

  The whole thing was amazing, and scary, and such an honor.

  When A.J. and I got back upstairs, Suzi was out of recovery in a private room and had the baby with her. Actually, Gran had the baby. She looked so happy.

  As we walked into the room, Gran beamed and stood to hand the baby to A.J. “Your niece.”

  “My God, Suzi, she is beautiful.”

  I went all mushy. Why not? “Just like her mommy.”

  “Suze, what is her name?”

  “Evelyn Siobhan Cooper.”

  My eyes turned to saucers. Siobhan? Really? It couldn’t be a coincidence. “Suzi…”

  “I want you always to be a part of her life.”

  I started to say something. I’m not even sure what.

  Suzi interrupted. “Don’t talk. I’ll cry. I’m already leaking from every place. Don’t add another place to the list.” Suzi laughed. Which made her a little bit seasick.

  “Cara, I want her to have all the things I associate with you. I want her to be anchored in a strong family. To know with every cell of her being that she is loved, she is wanted, she is the center of my world. I want her to be close to her mother and value tradition. I want her to be kind and really centered, and to care about people. You know what I mean. I’m not going to give a longer list. Your head is big enough.”