FIFTEEN NADIA

F IFTEEN

N ADIA

Summer slowly faded away. Lorraine and Sienna had returned to their lives. As had Reuben. Cleo and Otto had kept their distance, which bothered Nadia. They still had two other grandchildren, and she needed their help. Warren came to visit every other weekend, taking the train from DC to Boston. His visits were short and mostly came from a need to make sure the house didn't require repairs and the lawn stayed mowed. Everything in Nadia's life continued to evolve and change, but none of it was for the better. People who'd cared and expressed grief over Rafe's passing, or brought food for them in the days after, no longer called or stopped by. They had all forgotten, while Nadia and the girls continued to live with the crippling grief.

When Nadia returned to her classroom for the first time since Rafe's passing, it wasn't the same. The substitute had taken down all Nadia's decorations, boxed up the pictures of her girls and Rafe, and made her classroom unwelcoming. The wall dedicated to the American Revolution and the history of Boston was blank, the bookshelves bare. The books had been piled in stacks, in a disorderly fashion. She felt out of place, like she didn't belong in the room that had been hers for years, and she definitely didn't want to be there. Not yet at least. She spent most of the first week putting things back where she wanted them. A task that should've taken her hours took her five days. Nothing was as it was, and she couldn't make it the same, no matter how hard she tried.

It was just like her life.

By the time staff meetings rolled around, she had found some kind of groove. It wasn't the one she was used to, though. Gone was bubbly Nadia who loved life. In her place was a sad, sullen woman who had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and found every excuse to stay home.

Nadia dreaded the first day of school, a day she used to look forward to. She used to love meeting new faces and seeing returning students who took her advanced class. Teaching history was her thing, and she'd thought living in a place that had done everything to preserve it was something people should embrace. The annual field trip they took, walking the Freedom Trail, had always been a highlight of her year. So had been stopping at Boston Common to ride the carousel, weaving their way through history, knowing that the men and women who'd forged our country had battled in the same spots they walked; then they'd eat lunch at Quincy Market. Their field trips led them to Marshall Street, where they would visit the Green Dragon Tavern, which dated back to 1654. It was where Paul Revere penned his memoirs about his clandestine meetings with Samuel Adams, John Adams, and others. It was where they sat and eavesdropped on British troops who openly discussed war plans.

She needed to find a way to get back to the Nadia of old, which was easier said than done when she felt so empty on the inside.

The first day of school also meant they'd each embark on a new school year with a change none of them had expected. Their morning routine would be different. Rafe wouldn't be there to wrangle an overly excited Lynnea or calm Gemma's nerves. He wouldn't kiss them goodbye and wish them the best first day ever or tell Nadia to teach history in a way the students would never forget. He wouldn't share in their first-day-of-school breakfast or be waiting for them when they came home, eager to hear the tales of new teachers, friends, and the smelly boy who pulled Gemma's hair.

Nadia would be the one to fill out the paperwork, pack lunches, and make sure the girls were presentable for school. She'd look over their homework, help with their bath time, and tuck them in at night, all while grading papers, making dinner, starting laundry, and picking up after them. The help she'd had with her family coming and going since the accident was gone. They wanted her to be independent, which she understood. The problem was, she had never done parenting by herself. She and Rafe had been a team, from the onset.

At night, she talked to his photo, telling him her fears and how she felt inadequate as a mother because she had trouble coping. This was her form of therapy. She didn't need a head shrink telling her she was a shitty mother or hung up on the death of her husband. Nadia had that one figured out for herself. For fifty bucks an hour, she could tell you everything that was wrong with herself, the girls, and herself as a mother—she'd lost her husband and the girls their father to a freak accident that had been preventable. You don't move on from that in days, weeks, or even months. You don't cope and move on because society doesn't allow it.

If Nadia intended to get through the school year, she would need help. As it was, she couldn't afford a part-time babysitter on her salary alone, and the life insurance policy hadn't come in yet. If it hadn't been for the city, donations, and their parents, Rafe's funeral would've been held in their backyard. People had come through for them, and she needed one more to do the same.

She picked up her phone and pressed Cleo's number and waited for her mother-in-law to pick up. In the past five months, since Rafe's funeral, Nadia hadn't seen much of her in-laws. They came around, but nothing like they used to. That needed to change.

"Hello," Cleo said in her singsong voice, which for some reason made Nadia mad. She shouldn't be cheery.

"Hi, Cleo," Nadia said and then took a deep breath. Asking for help wasn't something she was comfortable with.

"Are the girls okay?"

Only the girls? Not me?

"They're the reason I'm calling. School starts tomorrow, and they finish their classes before I do. I was hoping you or Otto could pick them up for me, and stay at the house until I get home?"

"Every day?"

Don't sound so enthused to spend time with your grandchildren.

"Until I can find someone part time who isn't working every day until five."

"I didn't know you were looking for someone?"

How would she? It wasn't like she called, stopped by, or stopped blaming Nadia for donating her son's organs. Nadia sat there, unable to come up with something to say. She wanted to scream and tell her Rafe wouldn't appreciate the way she acted, but he would've expected this from his mother.

"It's fine, Cleo. I'll figure something out." Nadia hung up before her mother-in-law could say something. She didn't need her or Otto, even though she loved Otto dearly. Her next call was to Hazel.

"She hates me," Nadia said when Hazel answered. "And she's taking it out on the girls."

"I think you knew this was going to happen. She isn't like your mother. I have no idea how she raised someone like Rafe."

"Me neither." Nadia paused. "I'm in a bind, Hazel. I don't know what to do."

"What's wrong?"

"I don't have anyone to pick the girls up or stay with them until I get home. Any after-school activities don't start for another couple of weeks."

"I'll get them," she said without hesitation.

"How? You have to work."

"I can work from home in the afternoons," she told Nadia. "I wasn't going to because Lord knows I'll never get any work done with Hayden yammering in my ear, but I can do this for you."

"Are you sure?"

"Without a doubt. I'll stop by in the morning and pick up your extra key. I'm assuming you're taking them to school?"

"Yeah, as much as I don't want to. I have to. It's going to be hard."

"We'll go together. A team effort. Besides, Hayden misses Lynnea, and it'll be good for the girls to be together."

"You're right. Thank you."

"You'd do the same for me," Hazel said.

"I pray you never have to go through what I'm going through."

Hazel didn't respond. She didn't need to. Nadia knew what her friend would say— Me too.

"I'll see you in the morning. Try to get some sleep, Nadia. You're teaching middle schoolers tomorrow, and you need to be quick on your toes."

After they hung up, Nadia felt a smidge better. She still didn't want to go to work, leave the house every day, or have the kids out of her sight. She welcomed the day when she'd be better, when missing Rafe was easier and her life made sense again.

The next morning, she woke up well before Gemma and Lynnea had to be out of bed, determined to start fresh. She showered, dressed, and avoided everything in her room that reminded her of her husband. In the kitchen, she fixed the batter for pancakes, poured orange juice into cups, and set the table. Nadia hummed a song she'd heard but wasn't sure of the words or the title. She wasn't even sure where she'd heard it.

Nadia piled three pancakes on her spatula and turned. The girls weren't at the table, nor could she hear them upstairs. The pancakes fell to the floor, and tears welled behind her eyes. She had forgotten to wake them up, and judging by the numbers on the stove clock, they'd be late.

Everything in her screamed to go back to bed, to call out sick, to keep the girls home because they weren't ready to return. How would she survive if she couldn't get them up on time?

She wouldn't, unless she tried. Trying was as hard as living these days.

Leaving the pancakes on the floor, she made her way upstairs, working to clear her thoughts and feelings on the already chaotic morning. Tonight, she'd order Gemma an alarm clock and ask her to please help her with Lynnea. It was the best Nadia could do.

"Gemma," Nadia said as she went into her room. She turned her light on and found her daughter awake and staring at her. "How long have you been up?"

She shrugged. "A while."

Anger surged inside of Nadia, rising to an instant headache. She knew she shouldn't be upset. Gemma was only eight, but irritation baited her, causing her to feel emotions she never wanted to.

"Get out of bed and help me with your sister. We're going to be late." She left Gemma's room and went into Lynnea's, pushing the door open abruptly. Lynnea startled and rubbed her eyes.

"You need to get up. We're late." Nadia looked for the clothes she'd laid out the night before, remembering specifically that she'd left them on the chair. "Where are your clothes?"

"I don't like them."

"I don't care, Lynnea. Where are they?"

Lynnea said nothing and started to cry.

Gemma was her morning girl. The one who woke up with a smile on her face and was ready to take on the world. Lynnea, not so much. She was a grumpy sunshine who wanted to be held and needed time to wake up before the demands of the day took their turn.

Nadia knew this and had failed.

At the first sight of Lynnea's tears, Nadia walked out of the room. She couldn't comfort the first grader. Not in the way she needed. Nadia went into her bedroom, into the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the shower. With the water blasting, Nadia screamed. The guttural sound coming from her body shocked her. She held on to the counter for support. She caught her reflection in the mirror. Her shoulders heaved and her chest grunted as she continued to emanate air. The exhaustion of the past five months had finally caught up with her, and it was as if she was only noticing now. Her eyes had sunken in, surrounded by deep dark bags. The natural auburn hair Rafe loved so much was lackluster, at best. On closer inspection, split ends covered the bottom three or four inches, but that was nothing compared to the wrinkles around her mouth and eyes and along her forehead. She had aged fifty years since her husband had passed.

Nadia needed to get her shit together or she wouldn't survive. She had two children to think about. They needed to come first.

After shutting off the water, she left her room, walked to Lynnea's room, and found her sitting on her bed, still in her pajamas. Nadia felt the anger boil and ignored it. "I'm sorry for yelling," she told her. "Mommy's frustrated and angry, and I took it out on you. Come on, let's get dressed. You can wear whatever you want. Meet me downstairs for breakfast, but hurry because we're already late." She kissed the tip of Lynnea's nose and ignored the thumb in her mouth.

Gemma's room was empty, but she'd made her bed, which made Nadia smile. She found her oldest downstairs, sitting at the table. The pancakes weren't on the floor anymore, and the griddle had been turned off. Guilt washed over Nadia. Gemma was eight, turning nine in December, and more of an adult than Nadia at this point.

"I'm sorry I yelled." She ran her hand down Gemma's hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I miss him, too, Mommy."

Nadia nodded, unable to find her voice. She moved toward the griddle and turned it back on to make more pancakes.

"Maybe we need help."

Nadia looked out the kitchen window, staring at the bird on her neighbor's fence. How could a child be wiser than the parent?

"You're right, Gemma. I'll call someone today."

By the time they'd made it out of the house, Nadia was late for work. She called into school and said she would be there shortly and offered no other explanation.

Lynnea opened the front door and said, "What the heck."

"Lynnea, please don't say that in school." Nadia came toward the door and froze. Kiran paused as he came toward the house. He held flowers in one hand and bottles of chocolate milk in the other. Rafe had bought the girls flowers and chocolate milk on their first day of school each year. Nadia swallowed the lump in her throat.

He smiled, but it wasn't the one she was used to. Today was different. The wide, bright, cheerful smile showed happiness, excitement.

"What are you doing here, Kiran?"

"Well," he said as he looked at his hands. "I was hoping to catch you at home before you lovely ladies left for the day." He took the steps and stopped in front of Lynnea, handing her a bottle of chocolate milk and one of the bouquets in his hand, and then did the same for Gemma. "I know it's not the same when it doesn't come from your dad, but I wouldn't be doing my job as his best friend if I didn't have these for you today."

"Thank you," both girls said for their gerbera daisies.

"Why don't you take your flowers into the house. Gemma can get you a vase, Lynnea." Nadia watched the girls until they'd disappeared from her sight.

She turned back to Kiran. "You didn't have to do that."

"I did," he said, nodding. "It's not fair, what you and the girls are going through, and if something as simple as showing up on the first day of school makes them smile ... makes you smile, then I know I've done the right thing."

"Thank you."

He extended his hand and gave her the last bouquet. Hers had white roses and carnations, along with lavender lilies, accented with baby's breath and greenery. This wasn't a bouquet you bought at the grocery for under ten dollars next to the checkout. This was an arrangement someone had put some thought into. After she inhaled the roses, she glanced at Kiran. He looked embarrassed.

"Thank you, Kiran," she said. Nadia inhaled again, but only to hide her smile. She didn't want him to see her grin.

"It's my pleasure, Nadia." He nodded and turned around. She watched him walk down the path to his car. When he got to the driver's side, he stared back at her for a long moment, and then he ducked inside to drive away.