Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Breaking Point

We turned the oven back on and finished cooking the lasagna. I'd put it into the fridge, and Lucy and I could have it tomorrow. Maybe Aiden could come for supper.

We made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and ate them with Pringles chips, standing at the kitchen island. When the lasagna was done, I put it on the stove to cool.

Robin, Patrick and Lucy returned soon after, and came in laughing and yelling. Lucy regaled us about the movie and Robin's wild antics, and Patrick watched with a grin. I noticed the way he was looking at Robin, and I started to wonder if something might be going on there.

"I guess you had fun," I said, smiling. At least my mood had improved.

"How did it go with the grandparents?" Patrick asked, while Lucy and Robin played rock-paper-scissors to see who got the bag of leftover popcorn that Robin was holding.

"Not so good," I admitted. "We didn't even make it to dinner."

"Oh man," Patrick said with a frown. "I'm sorry. My mom tried to talk to them, but she didn't get anywhere."

"Yeah, she told me. I'm glad for the support from both of you."

"Dad! Robin's not playing fair!" Lucy said, running over to us with Robin at her heels.

He put a hand to his chest.

"Excuse me! I always play fair, missy. Ask your dad."

"How the hell would I know?" I said, giving him a look.

"Please," Robin scoffed, as if it weren't even in question. "Anyway, here." He handed the bag of popcorn to Lucy. "You can have it. I need to worry about my girlish figure."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Um, your girlish figure is fine. But I'll take it."

"Huh," Robin said, leaning seductively on the breakfast bar and gazing at me and Aiden. "So, looks like nobody's here but you two. What have you been up to?"

"Not a whole lot. Our guests left in a huff. The lasagna's going in the fridge. But, on the positive side"—a glance at Aiden showed he was worried I would say too much about how we'd gotten past it—"I'd forgotten how good peanut butter sandwiches were."

Robin cocked his head. "Is that some kind of euphemism?"

"No!" I said.

"Why wouldn't you have just eaten the lasagna?" Patrick asked.

"Unless," Robin said, smiling, "Aiden was too busy making Fletcher feel better…"

"Ew," Lucy said. "Dad."

"We weren't that hungry," I said, between clenched teeth, glaring at Robin and Patrick.

"Not for food, anyway," Robin said.

"Oh my God, good one!" She held her hand up for a high five, and Robin obliged, giving me a triumphant look.

* * * *

Over the next few weeks, despite Aiden's suggestion to stop, I wracked my brain for a way to dissuade Annie and Brian from fighting me for custody of Lucy, while expecting to be served legal documents at any moment.

It wasn't an ideal way to live.

If not for weekly sessions in the Bordello with Aiden, I'm pretty sure I'd have had some kind of nervous breakdown.

I went to see Aiden's band play again, and it was fun to be the lead singer's boyfriend. Again, I admired the easy way Aiden seemed to exist in his body, especially when he was living his best life as lead singer of The Tardy Boys. I teased him that they should have named the band ‘The Tarty Boys', because they all wore T-shirts that were too small and very tight jeans. Not that I was complaining.

Tuesday dawned with buckets of rain coming down, and I decided to work at home instead of going into the office. I texted Patrick that I didn't need him to watch Lucy.

From nine to eleven I worked hard on a couple of different projects, then took a break to make a cup of tea and relax before lunch. While I waited for my tea to steep, my phone went off. Annie Marin's name came up on the lock screen.

My first thought was, Jesus, this is it. She was going to tell me that they were serving legal papers. I almost didn't answer, but I couldn't ignore a phone call from Daniel's mom.

I tapped my phone with dread swirling in my gut and a cold sweat spreading on my forehead.

"Hello?"

There was nothing but breathing for a second and I wondered what the hell was going on. Then Annie sniffled and said, "It's Lilly. Something's wrong!"

"Pardon?" I said. It took me a minute to catch up. "Annie, what's wrong?"

"The kitten," she blurted. "She's collapsed… I don't know what to do!" Her voice wobbled, and I remembered that she was a sixty-eight-year-old woman who'd lost her only son a few years earlier.

"Oh no," I said. "You should probably take her to the vet."

Annie started crying. "I don't— I can't— She's not moving… Oh, God!"

"Shit. Is Brian there?"

"No. No. He went out. I don't know what…"

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

I grabbed my car fob and jacket and headed out of the door, skidding on the step that I'd forgotten to salt and almost falling. The dogs didn't even have time to notice I was leaving.

I pulled into Annie and Brian's drive a short time later. I was in such a rush that I snagged my jacket on the door of the car and cursed my clumsiness. The panic in Annie's voice had me very concerned.

I knocked twice and tried the handle. It wasn't locked, so I pushed it open and went inside.

"Annie?" I yelled. "It's Fletcher."

I heard a cry and then, "The bathroom. The bathroom."

When I got there, I was hit by the smell of cat piss and shit, and the sight of Annie sitting on the closed toilet, staring at a tiny strip of fur on the wet floor. She raised her gaze to mine, and it was full of so much sorrow and so much dread that I felt my heart ache for her. The animosity that I'd had for her and Brian somehow vanished in this one desperate moment, and I put everything else aside.

The kitten lay in a puddle of fluid—urine, feces and even a bit of blood.

"Can I use one of these towels?" I asked, pulling a soft-looking blue towel out of the cabinet.

Annie nodded, her eyes wide, her hands over her mouth and nose.

I stepped forward and bent down, trying to scoop up the kitten without getting the towel wet with everything else. The poor creature didn't weigh anything and didn't make any sign of life, limp and floppy in my grasp. I held her to my chest, crooning words to soothe her if she were able to hear me, the way I did to Lucy when she was upset or ill.

I glanced at Annie, who was in the same position, her gaze still on the floor. I wondered if she'd gone into shock. "We need to take her to a vet, Annie. Where's the nearest animal hospital?"

Annie didn't respond. She took her hand from her face and opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

"Annie?"

I stuck a finger into the towel against Lilly's tiny throat. I felt a very faint pulse and she made a tiny mewl, then her chest inflated and collapsed, and I stood there as the life left her tiny body. I wondered if I should try CPR, but she was so little and I'd probably break her tiny ribs. She'd already suffered enough.

"Shit," I said. I lowered her into my lap and unwrapped her. "She's gone."

Annie stared at me with a blank expression.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. But she's dead."

Annie shook her head. "No. No. I can't…" She covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut. She started to rock back and forth, her head going side to side, and her mouth moving.

"No. No. No. No."

I saw the reflection of my own grief in Annie's crazed, sorrowful eyes. I put the kitten down and moved toward Annie.

"It's okay, Annie. It's going to be all right."

This wasn't about the kitten anymore.

"No. No. No. No."

Annie's breathing was ragged, and I was worried she might go into cardiac arrest or have a stroke. I had to calm her down.

"Annie," I said, putting an arm around her, "I know. I know…how it feels…" I said, my own voice breaking.

"No. No. No. No."

She clutched at my arm and gazed into my eyes with such desperation, I felt it to my bones.

I spoke in a whisper, my mouth close to her ear. "I know how it feels. Trust me. You lost a son. I lost a—a husband, and the—father of my daughter." I took a breath that felt like a razor to my chest. "But it wasn't anybody's fault. Nobody could help Daniel. Not you. Not me. Not Lucy. Not Brian."

As if I'd given her permission, Annie took a deep, shuddering breath and collapsed against me, sobbing and shaking, the withheld grief of the last three years finally taking hold.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, and I meant for Daniel's untimely death, but also for the hateful feelings I'd had for Annie and Brian, and the way we'd been fighting each other, when we should be standing strong together.

I held her while she let out all of her sadness and pain, and the body of the dead kitten lay, forgotten, on the floor.

After a long time, Annie's breathing evened out, and I thought she might have fallen asleep. Then I started to worry she'd had a medical incident. And the smell in that room was becoming too difficult to bear.

I shook her gently.

"Annie. Hey, Annie."

She jerked—maybe she had dozed off. She stared at me with her wet, grief- stricken face. She looked so old.

"Oh, Fletcher," she said, and I was worried she'd start crying again. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for…everything." Her voice was a whisper. "You're a good father. Lucy is better off with you looking after her," she said, choking on emotion. '

I nodded, unable to say anything as I pulled her close again. My heart broke for the pain Annie must have been feeling and swelled with relief at having the threat of a court battle for Lucy taken away. I blinked back tears and wondered at the way the world worked.

When Annie was able to get up, I wrapped the kitten's body in a clean towel then drove us to a nearby veterinary hospital. I explained what had happened, and the person at reception got one of the vets to come and get the kitten, asking us to wait while they did some tests and checked things out.

I was pretty sure it was too late for any chance at reviving the wee thing, but I wasn't a vet, so I'd let the professionals take over and they could break the news officially to Annie.

We sat side by side. Annie's hair was in disarray, and she was wearing track pants and a T-shirt under her jacket. I was so used to seeing her all put together and made up that it was sobering to see her this way, raw and unkempt.

We both smelled like cat piss.

I held Annie's hand. We didn't speak, but we seemed, for the first time, united in our grief. The vet had come out and asked Annie all the pertinent questions. She'd answered them in faltering sentences:

Yes, the kitten had been eating and drinking…all the time.

No, it hadn't gotten into anything to Annie's knowledge.

Yes, it had been sleeping a lot but wasn't that normal? It had been active, chasing toys and trying to climb the curtains.

Had she noticed any blood in the kitten's stools? She hadn't.

Finally, Dr. Ortiz invited us into an examination room. She closed the door and offered Annie a seat in one of the chairs.

"I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid Lilly has passed."

I tightened my grip on Annie's hand as she nodded. She seemed more herself now and at least had had some time to adjust to this probability.

The vet glanced at me.

"Are you Mrs. Marin's son?"

I opened my mouth to explain but before I had a chance, Annie spoke up.

"Yes," she said, reaching for my hand again. I had to blink a few times to keep control.

"Well," Dr. Ortiz said, her gaze moving back and forth between us, "we can do an autopsy to determine the exact cause of death, but that's going to be expensive. I can tell you what we think it was, if you'd like?"

"Yes, please." Annie's voice was a whisper.

Dr. Ortiz gave Annie a kind look. "It was most likely hypoproteinemia—or protein-losing enteropathy."

We gave her blank looks.

"We call it PLE for short. It's when an animal's body isn't absorbing the protein from food properly."

"Oh," Annie said. "She was eating a lot. I gave her what she wanted."

"Yes, that's why you wouldn't have noticed that anything was wrong. But I'm afraid her body wasn't getting the nutrients—specifically, the proteins—it needed, and there would have been fluid build-up, which is very hard on kittens as young as this. I'm so sorry."

"So, it wasn't anything we did or didn't do?" I wanted that made clear, so Annie wouldn't feel bad that she'd missed the signs.

"No. This is, unfortunately, quite common in young cats, and most people don't notice anything until it's too late…as in this case."

Annie nodded and did seem reassured. But then her face fell and she looked up at me.

"Oh, Fletcher. What are we going to tell Lucy?"

* * * *

I had texted Aiden from the waiting room.

Long story. Annie's kitten collapsed and died. We are at the vet.

He had replied with a shocked face emoji.

Keep me updated.

I texted him while Annie finished up at the counter. I'd offered to help pay for the disposal and the fees, which added up to more than two hundred dollars, but Annie had refused, thanking me but indicating that she could pay it.

I'm driving Annie home. I told her we'd break the news to Lucy.

Horrified face emoji. Then sobbing face emoji. Then three hearts.

At least I wouldn't have to break Lucy's heart by myself.

Btw, she's not going to try to get custody anymore.

A whole line of confetti emojis.

I smiled in response and finally took in everything that had happened over the past few hours. Maybe a kitten's life was a high price to pay for the clarity of a crisis, but I was so fucking relieved.

Lucy, however, would be devastated.

* * * *

Aiden came over to be emotional support for both me and Lucy.

She was very upset when I told her, but she seemed more worried about Annie than anything.

"God, poor Granny! Is she okay?"

"Yes. She's going to be fine. She was very upset, and she cried a lot. But she's a tough cookie."

"I'm glad you were there, Dad. You always know what to say."

I glanced at Aiden, who was looking at me with so much affection I almost couldn't take it.

"Well…I hope I was some comfort to her."

Aiden came close and put his arm around me. "I'm sure you were a huge help and comfort."

"Yeah, Dad," Lucy said, smiling as she looked at Aiden and I all cozy together. "Give yourself some credit. You're pretty good in a crisis."

"Am I?" I asked, pleased to be told so.

"Yeah." Lucy sighed. "Anyway, a craptastic end to a craptastic day. I did my drama presentation. I don't think it was very good."

"Oh, honey," I said.

"All right. You know what this means?" Aiden said, clapping his hands together.

Lucy and I looked at him.

"I'm ordering pizza, and we're going to sit around here and feel sad about Lilly, but happy that she's not suffering. Then, if we feel up to it, we can watch a movie."

Lucy glanced at Aiden with excitement but then turned to me with skepticism.

"But I have school tomorrow."

"You can stay home. Bereavement leave," I said.

"Oh yeah," she said. "You mean, it works for animals, too?"

"Sure." Maybe not officially. But in my books it did.

She had stayed home for a couple of weeks after Daniel's death, and we'd done things together, cried together and ordered takeout a lot and eaten casseroles that friends and family had dropped off.

"Just one day this time," I said. "But you need a chance to process."

"Thanks, Dad," Lucy said, hugging me again.

"What do you want on your pizza?" Aiden asked as I threw him a grateful glance.

"Mushroom and pineapple," Lucy said.

Aiden paled. "Really?"

"Yeah. It's delicious."

He glanced at me. "Do you want—?"

"Never. Pepperoni and olives."

"Oh, thank God," Aiden said, putting a hand to his heart.

* * * *

We had a picnic on the living room floor and talked and laughed and teased each other. Lucy wanted to watch Moana. Aiden had never seen it.

"You've never seen Moana?" I asked, scandalized.

He laughed. "No. Hey, I don't have kids."

"But you're a teacher," Lucy pointed out. "You must have heard about it. It's literally the best movie Disney has ever made. Well, Tangled is close, but Moana is the best."

My phone rang while they were talking, and I excused myself and went into the kitchen. It was Brian Marin, and I hoped he wasn't calling to say that the custody battle was back on.

"Hi, Brian," I said.

"Fletcher."

"How is Annie?" I asked.

Brian sighed. "I think she'll be okay. She's crying a lot. I don't think it's only about the kitten. We've been talking about Daniel."

"Yeah? She did mention him earlier."

"Good. She needs to talk about him more. It's been…too painful, you know?"

"I know. Trust me."

"That's just it, Fletcher. We do trust you, especially after what you did for Annie today."

"I'm glad she called me."

"Did she tell you that we're not going to go ahead with the…other thing?"

"Yes. And you don't know how relieved I am."

"I'd already told her I wasn't sure we were doing the right thing." He cleared his throat. "It was a way to hold on to Daniel. I'm sure of it."

"Yes. I'm sorry it led to so much animosity."

"You know, seeing you fight for her? That was something. We can see how important Lucy is to you."

"Yeah," I said, blinking back emotion.

"Anyway, we'll have to come over for that lasagna we never had."

I couldn't help smiling. "Aiden and I would love that."

"And, Fletcher?"

"Yes?"

"I'm…I'm very glad you've found someone—and a way to enjoy life again."

"Thank you, Brian. Aiden was a turn of fate. And I've had a lot of therapy."

Brian chuckled. "Yeah, maybe that would be a good idea for us. It's been three years now, and it hurts just as bad."

"I can give you the name of my counselor, if you like. She's fantastic."

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you." There was a pause. "When you're my age, you think you can deal with anything. But there's no shame in asking for help." Brian's voice broke, and I realized that we were all still recovering from Daniel's death.

"No, there isn't."

I went back to the living room just as the movie started. Aiden beckoned me over to sit with him on the sofa. Lucy was in the armchair with Eddie on her lap. I cozied up to Aiden and nuzzled his cheek.

"Absolutely no kissing," Lucy said, holding her hand up. "Got it?"

Aiden snorted, and I smiled. For the first time in ages, I thought perhaps I had a good future to look forward to.

* * * *

After Lucy went to bed, Aiden helped me tidy up. We were gathering the empty pizza boxes when I was hit with a wave of sorrow so strong it took me by surprise.

I put my empty box down on the kitchen counter and turned to Aiden, and I just started choking on sobs. I kind of fell into his waiting arms while he dropped the pizza box he was carrying onto the kitchen floor in order to hold me.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. It's all right now."

The intense events from the day had caught up to me, and I felt a resurgence of my grief—at the death of the kitten, at the close call with Daniel's parents wanting custody of Lucy and at the unfairness of his early demise. I knew this would happen every now and then, and by now I knew it wouldn't destroy me and that the best thing to do was to ride it out until I could breathe again.

"I'm sorry," I said, pressing my face into his shoulder.

"Don't be. I'm not afraid. I can handle it."

"Thank God. Because it's probably going to happen again."

"Your grief is a part of you. And, do you know what it tells me?"

"What?"

"That you're capable of so much love. That you're not scared to love."

I sniffled into Aiden's shoulder.

"But what if… What if I can't do it again? What if I'm scared to…to love someone, again?"

Aiden pulled back and cupped my face, gazing hard into my eyes.

"Are you scared to love me?" he whispered.

"Terrified," I said. "I'm fucking terrified."

He smiled, and kissed my forehead, then my nose, then my mouth.

"I kind of think this is a done deal, the thing between us."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think it's too late."

I smiled, trying not to start crying again.

"I can't help loving you, Fletcher Marin. I love you when you're Lucy's Dad, I love you when you're Daniel's grieving spouse and I love you when you're on your knees for me. And I can't see that ever changing."