21

New Flannel Sheets

There is a sweet smell of salt in the air.

Fog rolls past our windows, floating in from the shore. The snow is melting, and things are finally thawing out.

When I sit on the windowsill, I can look up and see that in the steady afternoon sun, the icicles hanging from the gutters are dripping and receding. Jasper is starting to shed his winter fur, and it’s all over the house, brown hairs sticking to the couch and gathering in corners.

In the hallway by the front door, Father holds Finn tight, up against his shoulder. He won’t hand the baby over to Jimmy until they’ve gone over several things.

“I don’t want him ever left alone in a room,” Father says.

Jimmy nods.

“If you leave the room, even just to go to the bathroom, remind your ma that she has to watch him,” Father continues. “I don’t want her taking him anywhere in the car without Robert. Robert has to go too, if they take him out.”

Jimmy assures Father that he has babysat Finn many times and he knows what to do. He promises Father that he will call or text if there are any problems.

But Father won’t drop it: “You know what to look for, right? You’re old enough to know. If things aren’t right. I wouldn’t let you go if you weren’t old enough to—”

“Pops. It’s fine. I’ll know if Ma isn’t feeling well. She’s not going to drop him on his head. She never dropped me on my head.” He pauses, biting his lip. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Father sighs and gives Jimmy a small smile. He still hesitates.

As they stand there, I notice Jimmy’s hand sliding up to rest on his opposite arm, right over the scar that is hidden by the sleeve of his shirt. “Pops,” he says, almost in a whisper. “If something is off, I’ll know. Trust me, I’ll know.”

“Nothing can happen to him,” Father repeats, almost to himself. “If she’s not acting quite right—”

“I know.”

Father nods and hands Finn over to Jimmy. They all go out to the car, with two small bags and Finn’s baby bag.

Father is back, alone, half an hour later.

After Father returns, he sits in the living room armchair. He just sits, not turning on the television and not reading a book. For a long while, he stares down at the old, faded rug. I can see the worry in the lines of his face. I jump up to sit in his lap. He pats my head while lost in thought, his eyes glazed over.

It will be fine, I try to communicate to him, a deep purr erupting from my chest. Jimmy and Mary know how to take care of Finn. They do it all the time. They carry that baby around everywhere. Finn is always getting a ride to the different rooms of the house, squealing and chattering, perfectly content. Eventually I feel Father’s muscles relax in his legs and hand.

Charlotte arrives with a big smile soon after my siblings leave, very happy to be here at week’s end. I think she looks pretty in her pink T-shirt. Spring is coming, and this is the first time I have ever seen Charlotte wear a short-sleeve shirt. The skin on her arms is pale and lightly freckled. Father’s mood instantly brightens. She and Father go out for several hours. I take a nice noontime nap on the couch and then slink upstairs to take an early afternoon nap up on the bed. The house is silent and serene.

The minute I jump up on the bed, a new scent tickles my nose. I remember that there are new sheets under Mother’s old comforter.

Last night, Father and Sean went out. When they came back, they had new flannel sheets for Father’s bed. He and Sean took everything out of the packaging and had a drink while waiting for the sheets to wash and dry.

Father has finally figured out how to use the washing machine without creating way too many suds.

I don’t think Father had laundered the old sheets for many, many weeks. Possibly months.

Then Sean helped him put the new sheets on properly. Sean only had one working arm. The other was in a sling. But he did his best.

The first time they tried to put on the bottom sheet, it didn’t fit. Sean asked Father if they bought the right size, and he swore they did. Then they realized they just had it stretched out the wrong way.

Neither one is a genius with bedding.

These new sheets are blue and cozy. So now it doesn’t smell so much like Mother anymore. But the soft comforter is still here. I bury my nose in that for a while.

Father and Charlotte come back before supper, and I hear them downstairs taking off boots and coats and shaking off the cold. It would not be an exaggeration to say that Father has Charlotte up in our bedroom within ten minutes of their entering the house. The crutches do not slow him down on the stairs on this particular afternoon.

Charlotte climbs onto the bed with me, and Father stands at the foot of the bed, placing his crutches on the floor. He pulls his shirt off, over his head, and throws it on the floor. If his bruises hurt him, he is not showing it now.

Charlotte smiles and claps, like a child who is about to get a treat.

I told you she is a little silly.

Father looks at her blankly for a moment, not knowing what he has done to earn her applause. A smile widens across his face as he sees she is just very excited. Then he laughs.

He now carefully considers Charlotte on the bed, still for a moment. He is thinking about the best approach, like a cat stalking his prey. Finally, he crawls across the bed to her, eyes alert and muscles tense.

I assume he feels he must amaze her now with his mating abilities.

Charlotte beams at him. She is so, so delighted and cannot wait.

Regardless of his prowess, keep in mind that Father must impress Charlotte while wearing a bright green cast on one leg from the knee down. No disrespect to Father, but I find it a little bit amusing.

She shivers involuntarily when he gets very close. When his mouth is almost to hers, he pauses. Just to tease her, I think. To make her wait.

“Lay down with me,” he whispers to her.

I jump off the bed, trying to avoid getting shoved accidentally onto the floor. I know the drill.

I lie on the floor by the window where I can’t really see them. I hope Charlotte is satisfied with his performance.

Judging from what I hear, she is pleased. She says his name many times, as if she is calling him to her, but he is already right there with her. No man could be immune to that sort of flattery.

They are in bed the rest of the afternoon and evening. At one point Jasper comes scampering up the stairs, his claws scratching against the wood floor. Father gets dressed and takes him outside for a minute. Charlotte comes downstairs, and they have a small bite to eat. They watch the television for a short while. I meow, and this time Charlotte feeds me, for the first time. She knows where the cat food is kept now, on a low pantry shelf.

This must be love, if he is sharing with her where he keeps my cat food.

In the morning, Father sits up suddenly as he wakes, naked and disoriented. He looks around the room as if he is quite confused. I lie by his feet. Charlotte sees his reaction and puts a hand on his shoulder. He collapses back down by her side, throwing his arm and a leg over her. He gathers her in and holds her gently, his face up against her ear. He whispers things to her. She closes her eyes and listens.

At breakfast, they both seem tired out. I slink under their legs and rub against their ankles.

Today my siblings are coming back, which probably makes Father a little anxious. He is not as relaxed as the day before.

I wonder what Charlotte thinks of all this.

I imagine Charlotte isn’t sure if this is okay, this whole situation. She must wonder if she can truly love him. Father is strong and dependable, and she is attracted to him, but is that enough? He is burdened with many children, like a lion who already has a pride, and maybe she’d rather start new with a pride of her own. He has a difficult job, with strange hours, where he can get injured, as we all have been reminded. He could invite Charlotte to live in this big house with him, but it isn’t clean and it isn’t new, and I don’t know what else he can offer her. Certainly not his sparkling conversation. Charlotte wears clothes that are silkier and finer than anything Mother ever wore. Perhaps they don’t even like to do the same things outside of working with Finn.

These are unanswered questions that I imagine go through her mind.

Father goes out to pick up the children, and Charlotte waits here with me and Not a Cat. She showers and gets dressed and flits from room to room, looking over the whole house. She is thinking, thinking, thinking. Father is gone for quite a while.

When they get back, my siblings are happy to see that Charlotte is here. This has been a big weekend for all of us, in many ways.

Finn is wearing a new child-sized hat with a B on it, probably a gift from Mother or Robert. He looks very cute, a few white-blond, silky strands of hair sticking out from under the sides of the hat. I have to say he looks no worse for wear after being gone one night.

Jimmy and Mary take Finn upstairs. It’s hard for Father to carry the baby anywhere with those crutches, although I’ve seen him tuck Finn under one arm and walk with just one crutch under his other arm. You do what you’ve got to do.

Father and Charlotte stand just under the stairs, Father holding Charlotte in his arms, and they talk quietly. She wants to know why he was gone so long.

He tells her he just wanted to hear all about how the weekend went. He needed to see where the baby slept and make sure everything had been good and safe.

I am not sure Charlotte fully understands why Father would be nervous about the children visiting Mother. She may not know how Mother treated Jimmy sometimes. She may not know about all of the things Mother did that made Father anxious.

And I believe Charlotte is afraid that he still loves Mother. I have to tell you that in my opinion, yes, he does still love Mother. He will always love her. She was the love of his life. And she is the mother of his children.

But I don’t think he is in love with her anymore.

I can see from the way he studies Charlotte that Mother isn’t on his mind right now. Father smiles at Charlotte. He tells her he had a great weekend and kisses her cheek and then her neck, burying his face there.

He is marking his new territory, putting his scent on her so other men will know she is off limits. I give him some privacy.

I scamper upstairs to see how Jimmy is doing. It was a peaceful weekend, yet I missed my siblings terribly. So did Jasper, who is so excited that he runs up the stairs and leaps onto Jimmy’s bed, where he usually never goes. He now is yipping his head off because he can’t get down from the bed.

“Shut up, for the love of Christ!” Jimmy barks back at him. He lifts Jasper and places him on the floor. “God, Jasper, you are so small. Where does all of that hellish noise come from?” Jasper runs out to find Mary.

Jimmy closes his door and phones Aruna. “Hey, sweetie,” he says to her. He sits on the bed next to me and runs one hand down my back. He pets me too hard, but I let him get away with it. Just because I missed him.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “It was fine. I had a good time. It was surprisingly normal.” It seems that Aruna has forgiven him for his mistakes. “Yeah, I missed you too.” He listens. “Mary? I think she had a good time. But yeah, she seems a little down. It’s like, maybe if the winter would just get over with already we’d all feel better. I need some sun. I need the beach. We’re going to have a great time this summer. I can’t wait.”

Aruna must be making a suggestion, because Jimmy cocks his head while listening.

“Hmmmm . . . that sounds like a good idea. A really good idea. I like it!”

Jimmy absentmindedly fluffs up the fur on my big stomach while pausing for a moment. There is a sparkle in his eye, which lets me know he likes whatever it is Aruna is saying to him.

“You see,” he replies, “that’s why I love you.” He closes his eyes, and I hear Aruna squeal something in the background. A big grin spreads across his face. “Yeah, I love you. What did you think?” His eyes pop open as he listens. “It was the chocolate that tipped you off, wasn’t it?” She says something, and he laughs.

“Yeah, let’s have a big date next weekend,” he continues. “Make up for lost time. I can’t wait. So, speaking of dates, Charlotte is here. Oh my God. Can you believe that? My crazy dad?” Jimmy looks at me and ruffles the fur on my head. He winks at me. “I know. I know. It’s, like, so crazy. So guess who is right here with me?” He pauses as she takes a guess. “That’s right! Big Fat Crookshanks! Aruna says hello to you, Boo.”

Huh? I still don’t get why that’s funny.

“Okay, sweetie, I’ll see you on Tuesday. I gotta go with my dad to Finn’s appointment tomorrow. Yeah, Boston Children’s Hospital. Okay. Good-bye. Bye-bye. No, I can’t. Okay, bye. Sweetie, no. Bye, sweetie.”

This goes on and on for a good three minutes.

“Okay, seriously, I love you, good-bye.” He hangs up. And then pretends to rest his head down on me, as if I am a big pillow. He doesn’t put all of his weight on me though.

I ignore him. Because if I didn’t ignore him, I’d have to swat him. And my paw might get stuck in his big mop of messy, black hair.

That would be a total disaster.

* * *

The next morning when Mary leaves for school, she gives Finn an extra hug and tells Father good luck. Father gets Finn dressed in a nice outfit, and Jimmy carries Finn out to the car. I assume they are headed for that hospital Jimmy mentioned.

I have a rare few hours when no humans are here at all. I listen to the dishwasher cycling, water splashing and draining. It’s very calming.

I feel bad Finn will never get to hear the wonderful, comforting sound of a dishwasher gently splashing and draining.

When they come home, Finn is fussy. He cries and cries. The poor thing has little, plastic blue things behind each ear, and they are clipped to his shirt by strings. Finn pulls the blue things off his ears repeatedly, and Father and Jimmy struggle to get them back on him. They sit Finn down on the living room rug and try to distract him.

“Hey, buddy!” Jimmy tries with an expressive face. Finn’s little hand moves up to paw at his ear. “No, look here. Here!” But Finn isn’t having any of it. No matter how many times Jimmy puts the blue things back on his ears, Finn pulls them off.

“Maybe it’s feedback?” Jimmy asks. “Or maybe he’s actually hearing something and he’s not used to it, so he doesn’t like it?”

Father shakes his head. He’s not sure. He reminds Jimmy that the doctor said these “hearing aids” might not help Finn at all. Father is worried that maybe these aids are just going to drive Finn crazy and make him uncomfortable for nothing.

Jimmy leans forward and gives Finn a hug. “Pops, we gotta talk more to him. The doctor said it’s okay to talk to him. He said all parents should talk to their deaf baby.” Jimmy pauses. “You know, Ma talked to Finn the whole weekend.”

I can tell Father finds this interesting by the way he tips his head.

“Wait,” says Jimmy, “I’ve got an idea.” He stands and hustles up the stairs. When he comes back down, he’s got the little B cap in his hand. Jimmy carefully puts the aids back on Finn’s ears and then sticks the hat on Finn’s head.

This time, Finn’s hand moves slowly up to his head. And when his hand finds the cap, he is distracted. His blue eyes light up with amazement. I imagine Finn is remembering how happy Mother was to put that cap on his little head.

And his hand drops.

Father grins at Jimmy.

“Yeah, I knew it.” Jimmy takes all the credit, as he should. “Yeah, that just happened. I outsmarted my baby brother. Deal with it.”

I feel my purr increase to full blast. I can’t help it. Jimmy beams like Mother used to when she was proud of herself.

Later, I follow Jimmy up to his room and we sit on his bed. I admire my big brother. He is an amazing human. Unlike Mary and Father, he is always cheerful. I can’t believe I never appreciated this about him before Mother left.

It is like realizing that something I have been searching for has been right beside me all along.

My bond with Mother blinded me to the possibility of connection with other humans. Mother was the one who met all my needs, as powerful as the sun that warms me through the window. I took her presence here for granted. Jimmy and Mary were just other warm bodies circling Mother. We competed for her attention.

Jimmy is not exactly like Mother, but he has the same dark eyes, the same quick laugh. More than that, he is patient and brave. I think he has a good soul.

There is a photo of Mother on his bedside table, and it’s one where she’s cradling me in her arms. At one time, this was my favorite photo. Not anymore.

I slink onto the dusty table, which is covered in papers and cards and pens and electronics, all kinds of human junk. I purposely rub up against the framed photo, so hard that it falls off the table. Good riddance.

Jimmy turns at hearing the thunk and immediately reaches down to pick up the photo. He looks it over a number of times. I track his eye movements. I wonder how his weekend really went. I wonder how badly he misses Mother. I wonder if it was amazing to see her, or painful. Perhaps it was both.

“It’s not her fault,” he says softly, and I guess he is talking to me, but also maybe to himself. “It’s not her fault she’s sick.”

I look away, pretending something outside the window interests me. I know now that Mother’s actions were not normal at times, that she was full of too much energy and had some strange ideas. But sick?

I don’t care if Mother is ill. I don’t want to hear excuses for her bad behavior.

I turn back and give Jimmy a yeow! He needs to snap out of it.

But when I crane my neck to look up at him, Jimmy just glances at me and then stares down at the photo again. “You don’t get it. She had to go,” he continues, his voice barely a whisper. “Robert told me she had to go, to save her own life. He reached a helping hand out to her, and she took it. That’s all. She just couldn’t live here anymore.” He sighs. “She misses you something awful, Boo. Believe me.”

My fur bristles at this. Jimmy can tell himself anything he wants.

I am more worried about Jimmy now than I am about Mother. Those who are left behind need love too. Perhaps in some way we failed to take care of Mother. Perhaps Mother did have to go. But I feel betrayed and rejected. Now we need to take care of ourselves.

“Boo,” Jimmy mumbles. “My stomach hurts.”

I turn back to Jimmy and climb up into his lap. Snuggling down, I rest my full weight on him. I will take care of him. I love my family. I don’t want us to hurt anymore.

When I look up, I see tears starting to pool in Jimmy’s eyes, but none run down his face. He is close to some sort of understanding, but not quite there yet. When he leans over and smothers me, putting his face right down into my fur, I allow it. I try to relax, feeling his breath hot on my back. I’m happy to help. My brother needs me.