9

Ten Fingers, Ten Toes

Jimmy and Father are in Finn’s room watching Charlotte do something funny that makes the baby laugh over and over. It’s some silly game with a puppet. I watch from the hallway. Jimmy is laughing so hard that he is crying and holding his stomach, which makes Father laugh too.

I can see Charlotte enjoys this game. She likes the baby’s funny reactions. And I think she loves having an audience.

Charlotte is tall and thin, with brown hair that falls in waves, and there is never a hair out of place. She paints her lips the color of a blushing peach, and today she wears a beautiful necklace with big, shiny white flowers on it. Charlotte smiles sweetly at Father and Jimmy.

I wonder if most of the time Charlotte works with mothers. Perhaps our house is unique in that there is no mother here. In this house, Charlotte is outnumbered by male humans.

I am glad to see that Father and Charlotte are finally relaxed around each other. At first, they were both very formal. I don’t think Father even liked her.

Charlotte is a slightly awkward human, if you ask me. Her gestures are not always smooth, and she makes funny faces, especially at Finn.

But now Father lets his guard down and asks her questions, and he isn’t afraid to make suggestions. Charlotte can be quite goofy, not just with the baby but also apparently with anyone. Something about her makes Father feel comfortable enough to talk. It makes me glad to hear them interacting from wherever I am in the house.

Charlotte makes dramatic faces and sweeping gestures when she’s talking to Finn, and she guides Jimmy and Father so they will teach the baby in the same way. Sometimes I think that baby is making progress, and sometimes I don’t. It’s hard for me to figure out what’s going on and how much that baby is learning.

I had never seen a human baby before, but Finn looks like what I expected. Big head, big eyes, just a few teeth. Ten fingers, ten toes.

Yet something is off. Something about his reaction to the things around him is wrong.

It puzzles me. But I am determined to figure it out.

While the others are still laughing, Mary sweeps up the stairs and stands in Finn’s doorway. Her back is to me, but I can see her arms are tightly folded. It’s the same stance Father takes when he is upset and closing himself off from the world.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

Jimmy explains the game, in hysterics.

“No,” Mary interrupts. “No. What I mean is”—she points at Father—“what are you doing?”

Father looks up at her from where he is sitting on the rug. His face is blank. His mouth opens a little as he tries to think of a reply, but he is mystified. He seems to realize suddenly that Mary is angry about something, as his face opens with surprise.

Mary whips around, her long blond hair flying behind her. She stomps off into her room and closes the door.

Jimmy sits between the two adults. “Don’t get up,” he says, putting one hand on Father’s shoulder and the other on Charlotte’s arm. “She has a bug up her butt about something. I’ll talk to her. Keep working.” Jimmy wipes his hands on his jeans and stands.

He comes out into the hallway, clears his throat, and wipes the smile off his face. He knocks, just once, on Mary’s door before entering. I follow along, on silent paws.

Mary sits on her bed, up by her pillow. Her legs are crossed and her arms still folded.

Jimmy shuts the door behind him and stands in front of her. “What’s the matter with you?”

Mary grits her teeth. “You know what,” she snaps at him.

Jimmy takes a deep breath. His hair is messy, and he’s chewing gum. From my angle on the floor, his head seems to nearly hit the ceiling fan because he has grown so tall.

“Good grief, Mare.” Just like Father sometimes calls Mother Care, he and Jimmy will call Mary Mare. “What’s the one day of the week you see Pops in a good mood?”

He waits, but she does not answer. Mary does not want to play games.

“Let’s see . . . Oh, yeah, that’s right. It’s Thursday. Why is that?” Jimmy pauses again, arms spread in front of him as he makes everything bigger with gestures. “Do you think it’s because Charlotte visits? I do. And why is he happy? Because she’s really nice. It’s that simple.”

Mary squints at him, looking even angrier.

“You know, Mare . . .” He sighs. “Sometimes people need visitors to remind them how to act. We’re not having a party in there. We’re working with Finn. Pops has had a rough time of it lately, if you hadn’t noticed, and Charlotte makes him happy.” Jimmy shrugs. “Charlotte makes me happy. And she makes Finn happy. She makes us feel like Finn is going to be okay. So you need to get over it.”

“She’s not Ma. Don’t pretend like she is, as if this makes everything better.”

“Of course she’s not Ma. Of course we’re not pretending she’s Ma. It’s got nothin’ to do with Ma.”

Mary frowns down at the bedspread.

“Listen. We all love Ma. But Ma’s not here. And Finn is growing every day. That kid needs help, and Pops needs help. Even I need help. And I’m not afraid to admit it. So leave us alone.”

Mary huffs. “Give me a break. This is all about you now?”

“Mare.” Jimmy sighs. “Yeah, I need help. Why am I not allowed to say that? Ma always loved you best. She thinks you’re perfect. She never took it out on you like she did me and Pops. We need a break, so cut us some slack.”

I see Mary’s hand move slowly toward her bedside table. And then I see the sharp, silver scissors sitting there. I don’t know what Mary is planning to do, but I’m alarmed. Jimmy is still talking, unaware. “Ma always said you got the looks and the talent and the brains in this family, that you’re just as smart as she is.”

“I’m not as smart as she is,” Mary hisses. She grips the scissors now, her hand turning red as she squeezes them in her fist. “I don’t want to be like her at all.”

I leap into action. With one swift push, I am airborne and then land just in front of Mary. She is startled, and then her shoulders relax a bit when we make eye contact.

Jimmy sits next to me on the bed and calmly reaches over me to put his hands around the hand holding the scissors. He pries Mary’s fingers loose one by one. Mary lets him take the scissors without a fight.

Jimmy looks into his lap and thinks about it. He’s a calm soul, in general. He has taken sharp things out of Mother’s hand before too. Once, it was scissors. Once, it was a kitchen knife.

“Then don’t be. Don’t be like her.” That’s his only answer. He drops his head, as if guilty that he doesn’t have a better answer for her. When he leaves the room, he takes the scissors with him.

I peer up at Mary. She is as still as a statue, mouth pressed into a grim line. I climb into Mary’s lap. It’s warm and comfortable. I hope I can help her feel better.

I start purring as loud as I can, and finally she rubs me down. I feel the tension draining out of her hands and into my fur.

When Charlotte’s time is up, Father walks her down the stairs. I leave Mary and sit on the landing to watch him say good-bye. He is carrying Finn, and they are still talking about a few things. Just before opening the door, Charlotte automatically extends her hand to shake his, but his arms are full of the squirming baby. “I—” He can’t quite manage it. “I’m sorry. I—” I can see they both feel embarrassed for a moment.

Just let her go, I think. Shake her hand next time.

Father stands in the doorway, watching her walk to her car.

After Charlotte leaves, we have supper. We’re having turkey sandwiches tonight, instead of ham. I’m so proud of Father for trying a new food! I get a little in my bowl, thankfully.

Later that night, I am lying on the soft flannel sheet on Jimmy’s bed when Father comes in. Jimmy is doing homework, lying back flat and holding the book above his head. Now it’s Father’s turn to shut the door.

“Is Mary okay?” he asks my brother.

“Yeah,” Jimmy says, rolling his eyes, making light of it. “She’s just being Mary.”

“All right.” From the way Father scans the room, his eyes glazed, I can see he has other things on his mind. “Did . . .” He stops midsentence.

“What?”

“Did your mother say anything about coming here for Christmas? To visit?”

Jimmy now closes his book, laying it aside. He looks up at Father, a little confused. “Um . . . no. Do you want me to ask her?” Before Father can answer, Jimmy scrambles up. “Never mind. Stupid question. Let me ask her. I’m sure she wants to. Right?”

They stare at each other. Maybe they don’t really know the answer to that question.

I get up, stretch my legs. When Father sits on the bed, I rub my head against his back. I’m glad Father asked. It’s a great idea.

Father looks down at his feet. “Do you think . . . ?” He can’t seem to finish his question.

“Yeah. I’m sure she’ll say yes, Pops. Don’t worry. I’ve got it all taken care of.”

Father opens his mouth, but closes it again. He rubs his knees with his hands. “Does . . . Does Mary know where your ma is living now?” he asks quietly, leaning slightly toward Jimmy.

“Nooooo,” Jimmy says, shaking his head slowly, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. Mary would’ve said something.”

“Let’s not tell her yet,” Father suggests. “Do you think?”

“Yesssss.” Jimmy nods in slow motion. “Agreed.”

When Father leaves the room, I follow him. He takes a shower for a long time, puts on his underwear and a T-shirt, and then comes in to lie on the bed with me. “Move over, Boo,” he says.

He lets me knead my claws into the comforter. When Mother was here, he would give me a swat if I started up with this. But now I have taken over her side of the bed, and he allows it.

Later that night, when Father is in bed reading one of his books, Jimmy comes in quickly and jumps on the bed. Thank goodness Jimmy sees me just in time, or he might have landed on me. His huge grin tells the whole story. His hands are balled into fists, as if he is about to explode with excitement.

“She’s coming?” Father looks very surprised. He sticks his book on the bedside table so quickly that it falls onto the floor.

“Yeah. She’ll come by. Not this weekend, but next weekend.”

“She said yes, right away? You didn’t have to convince her? She wants to come?” Father reaches down to pick up his book and sets it on the table as he’s talking. He rarely talks this fast, shooting out questions one after the next. “Is she going to stay all day? Is she coming for lunch? Is she staying for dinner?”

Jimmy sits close to his dad and rubs his chin. “Uhhh, I don’t know about that. I wouldn’t make any assumptions. Because, you know, it’s hard to say. We’re talking about Ma here. Who the hell knows what she’ll end up doing.”

They look at each other, both buzzing with anticipation. I can feel it, even just sitting on the edge of the bed near them. I rub my head repeatedly on Jimmy’s knee, and he runs a hand down my back.

* * *

The next morning, Jimmy and Mary come downstairs first, to pack papers and food in their great scramble to get to school on time every morning. Jimmy loads up his backpack with an apple, an orange, and two bananas, because Mahmee went shopping yesterday and I suspect he wants to stock up before they run out of everything again. Jimmy eats enough for two humans. Mary is just putting orange juice back into the refrigerator when her eyes open wide and she gasps.

We all turn. Jasper pivots, and gives a yip! We are all shocked by what we see.

Jimmy cranes his head. “What the—?”

Mary does a double take. “Dad!”

Father has shaved. His face turns red as we all stare at him, and without the beard the flush on his cheeks is easy to see. He comes into the kitchen and reaches up to get a coffee cup from a high shelf. Jimmy and Mary exchange a look when his back is turned.

We all continue to look. Father has lost several years off his appearance, easily. Easily!

I see now, for the first time, how much he looks like sweet Mary. How could I not have seen it before? The sandy hair, the light eyes, a gentle face.

Mother likes to say that Father is a “handsome devil” and Mary is a “beautiful angel,” and I never understood what she meant. But now I see that devil and angel must be the same thing, because Father and Mary have the same looks.

“Oh. My. God. Seriously, Pops.” Jimmy reaches forward, his mouth hanging open, and rubs down his father’s cheek. “What did you do?”

“Knock it off.” He pushes Jimmy away, but gently.

I have never seen Father without his beard. I barely recognize him. He is like Father’s younger brother come to visit us.

“Daddy. Who are you?” Mary wails.

Father rolls his eyes and shakes his head. He pours a full cup of coffee and starts to drink it, standing against the counter. I think he is still embarrassed. Mary rushes up to him and gives him a pinch on the arm. She is grinning and can’t stop staring. “Look at you, look at you,” she repeats in an easy, singsong voice.

Mother is coming.

That’s what I heard. That’s what Father heard. So now we must all get ready.

Maybe I don’t need to run away and find her after all! My relief is overwhelming. The outdoors is big and wild and scary.

But once Mother gets here, it is important that she stay. If she walks out again, we may never get her back.