The Bracelet

“If you’re going to be here through the night, I can drive the kids back to your place and stay with them until morning if you’d like,” his aunt offered.

Sean didn’t have to be told that a heart cath was serious stuff. “I’m not leaving. I’ll stay here.”

Aunt Pat studied him as if he were a kid. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

“I’m staying.” When he checked with his mother, he saw she understood.

She understood a lot of things his dad didn’t. But even his mom couldn’t imagine everything he kept inside. He was a disappointment to his parents. He’d never lived up to their expectations. Until he’d been diagnosed with dyslexia, his dad had thought he was lazy, that he didn’t care, that he didn’t try. After all, he wasn’t their real son. Their real son had died, and his father would never forget that. When he looked at him, Sean always felt small, as if he’d never measure up. Maybe he wouldn’t.

After all, his biological mother had given him away. He’d had the guts to finally ask questions when he was around ten. He’d learned she couldn’t care for him, and she hadn’t even known who his father was! He had no desire to find her or meet her. He had a mother. He didn’t need another one. And since his father’s identity was a mystery…Brady Malone was his dad and they were stuck with each other.

“Mom, should I go with Aunt Pat?” Kat asked.

“That’s up to you, honey. You’ll only be five to ten minutes away. I can call if anything happens.”

“What do you mean if anything happens?” Kat sounded afraid. “Dad’s not going to die. He’ll be all right, won’t he? You said he will.”

Laura went to Kat now, too, and draped an arm around her shoulders. “We have to believe he will.”

Sean felt as if he were standing in the middle of nowhere, all alone, the way he always was.

Kat’s eyes were wet now and tears dripped down her face. “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to smell these awful smells and see all these sick people.”

Usually he tolerated his sister. But sometimes…“You’re such a spoiled brat,” Sean muttered before he could help himself.

Kat’s “I am not” protest and Laura’s warning “Sean” hit the air at the same time.

Aunt Pat held her hand up like a referee. “Whoa, everyone. Take a deep breath. Kat, it’s okay if you don’t like the hospital. I don’t, either. If you come home with me, we’ll gather some things for your dad, your mom and Sean. Was this about the article?” she asked, staring at his mom as if what had appeared in the paper was no secret to her.

“Yes,” his mother said softly. “Don’t answer the phone if it rings. I’ll sort through the messages eventually.”

Aunt Pat gave a knowing nod, clasped Kat by the elbow and led her down the hall.

After a few seconds of silence, his mom suggested, “Try to be a little understanding with your sister right now. She’s only fourteen.”

“And most of the time she acts like ten.”

His mom’s face was drawn as she told him, “We all have our own way of coping. Yours and Kat’s are different.”

His way of coping started with shots from those bottles in the toolshed. “How do you cope, Mom? How have you coped all these years knowing what Dad did? How have you lived with that?”

He hadn’t meant to bring the matter up again now, but the questions were doing a slow burn in his stomach. Gary had shown him the article in the paper at baseball practice. Maybe his dad’s heart attack was really about the article being published. But what did he have to do with that?

“Was that article in the paper true or was it a lie? Did he kill women and kids?”

For once in her life his mother was at an absolute loss for words. Finally she answered him. “I know you need to talk about this. I know you have questions. But there are two sides to every story and you have to hear your father’s.”

Maybe a part of him was glad this had happened. Maybe a part of him wanted to kick the pedestal out from under his dad’s feet. But another part…

Sean suddenly realized Kat wouldn’t be here and he’d have to visit his dad alone. Panicked, he asked, “What am I going to say when I go in to see Dad?”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just be with him. Let him know you’re there. If you do want to talk, just tell him you’re sure he can fight through this.”

When his mom’s voice cracked, Sean felt something breaking inside him. He glanced away and told himself his dad would be all right. His dad had to be all right.

As the monitors beeped, Brady floated, trying not to think or even feel. There had been times over the years when he’d blocked out all feeling. In Nam, for sure. As well as after he returned home. After Laura’s miscarriages. After Jason died—

He didn’t want to go there.

He wished there was a clock in the cubicle. But doctors probably thought patients shouldn’t think about time or count the minutes until their next visitor. Would Laura come back? Or would Sean or Kat visit?

In spite of his struggling to stay in the here and now, his mind wandered. To the day he and Laura had moved into their first house—one with a mortgage instead of a landlord. She’d discovered she was pregnant one week and they’d found the split level the next. They’d been so happy…so ready to prepare a nursery.

But then he’d returned home from work one night and—

“Laura! Laura, are you home?” he’d called as he’d set his briefcase in the kitchen. There was no answer. Yet her purse sat on the counter.

Returning to the living room, he called up the short flight of stairs. “Laura.”

A sixth sense urged him to climb them, even though she didn’t call back. At the top of the stairs he heard her crying coming from the bathroom.

Rushing in, he found her on the floor by the bathtub, with blood on her white summer dress. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She was sobbing now. “I lost our baby. Oh, Brady. I lost our baby.”

He had to get her medical attention. But her tear-stained cheeks, the sense of loss in her eyes, had him holding her and rocking her. “It’s okay. It’s okay. We’ll have another baby.”

“I wanted this one. I wanted this child. What if I can’t get pregnant again?”

“You’re young and healthy. You’ll get pregnant again. We’ll have lots of kids. You’ll see. I love you, Laura.”

Then he scooped her into his arms and carried her to his car to drive her to the hospital.

The doctor had performed a D&C. Visiting Laura and holding her through her grief had been difficult for him. He’d tried to bury his. When she’d returned home, they’d talked about trying again as soon as the doctor said they could. He’d brought her daisies. He’d bought her her favorite perfume. He hadn’t bought a charm. Charms were for the happy times. The times they wanted to remember.

Eventually her smiles had become natural again.

Until the next miscarriage. There had been a third. Then she’d become pregnant with Jason.

His son.

“Mom?”

An hour later, Sean’s strained voice told Laura she’d been staring into space for at least ten minutes. “How’d it go?” she asked.

Her son dropped down onto the sofa beside her and raked his hands through his hair. “He was sleeping. He didn’t know I was there.”

“He might have.”