Five minutes later, he found himself walking over to Serene's, his heartbeat migrating into his throat muscles. When he rang the bell, Serene fortunately answered. He invited her to go pick up that extra skateboard at Dylan's. The smile that swept over her face took his breath away. Serene brought to mind a darkened room, its contents obscured by shadows, but her smile that afternoon was like someone switching the light on and revealing spectacular beauty. She was dazzling.
13
Barbara - February 2020
Barbara watched her mother from the window. She moved at a pace close to a jog, as if she were escaping from the house rather than just going for a walk. When Erica and Cuppa came back with the kids close to two hours later, Dora had still not returned. Erica left immediately to look for her and returned alone, twenty minutes before Dora showed up. Barbara had opened the door to the soft knock to find her mother waiting like a stranger on the front stoop. Dora did not have a key or even her phone. The phone was left in her purse on one of the lounge chairs in the living room. Their eyes met briefly before Dora looked away, stepping inside and skirting around Barbara as if she might burn her. Then, Dora stood motionless in the living room, face flushed from the wind, eyes glittering with a terror that rendered everyone silent. Erica spoke first, asking Dora if she was hungry or might like a bath. Dora loved baths, especially when feeling stressed. But she said nothing, only stood mute with that stricken look on her face, staring at all of them like they were intruders. Sara had sidled up against Erica and Jesse's bottom lip trembled. A streak of something icy and foreign shot through Barbara. Who was this person standing before them? What did Dora mean when she said she was Barbara's age last time she left the house?
Erica stepped forward and placed their hand under their mother's elbow to guide her, offering the bath again. Dora yanked her arm away, lips partially open. No words came out. Just a wild stare, reminding Barbara of the time a bird flew into their home and she'd tried to shoo it out. The bird had flown into a window, knocking itself back and landing on the sofa. Its beak had opened as it hyperventilated with shock, watching Barbara. That was their mother, a trapped bird, not the mama bird coming back to her nest of waiting babies like the image on the card they'd given her.
Erica tried to rescue the situation, directing the younger ones to their room and telling Barbara to call their dad. It took another few minutes of coaxing to get Dora to move from her frozen stance in the living room. As Barbara climbed the steps to the apartment, she shared with Cuppa, she heard the strange high voice that was now Dora's.
"That's not my room. The office is my room."
"Okay," Erica soothed. "That's fine. I can bring you a cup of tea."
"Nooo,” she crooned, breaking down into rasping sobs.
"Bloody hell," Cuppa said. Barbara continued the rest of the way up the steps and to her phone in her room.
Their father waited outside in his black Mercedes Benz land cruiser. When Barbara called, he'd just gotten out of the ocean after a few hours of surfing. “This is Steve,” he'd answered in his perfunctory business voice. Their dad was always on. He worked as an entertainment attorney as part of a robust team at one of the most prestigious firms in Hollywood, Stratford & Phillips. He generally worked around the clock, squeezing in family time where he could. Surfing was a rare treat for him. Typically, her father liked the sort of exercise where he could keep his phone nearby. Twice a month, he had a massage therapist come to his home, and now that Tera lived with him, the therapist worked on her, too. Through the open door of their bedroom, Barbara had seen the therapist kneading her dad's legs while he texted, talked on the phone or read over legal briefs.
Tera wasn't in the car, Barbara noticed. He must have rushed her home and turned back for them. Hair still wet, it hung messy and damp, in need of a cut. Her father went for that clean-cut conservative look, nothing like the boy he once was in the pictures she'd studied of him as a teenager. T-shirts and baggy jeans, hair that swallowed up half his face, washed denim, Vans skate shoes. Hoodies.
He smiled as they approached the car, a hint of an apology tucked into his turned-up mouth. Jesse and Sara scrambled into the back and threw their traveling bags onto the floor. Jesse had changed into a high low boho blouse with cropped sleeves, the wide ruffles swallowing up his thin arms at the elbows. Zebra striped leggings showed off his long slim legs, the finishing touch a pair of dark red cowboy boots. Jesse sighed, climbing into his booster seat that he was still required to sit in as their dad glanced at him, not quite able to feign the flitting look of confusion he always got when he looked at his son. Barbara opened the front passenger door and slid into her seat. Erica came out and stood in the doorway, raising their hand in a farewell. Barbara's dad returned the gesture and Barbara suddenly felt a rush of love for her mother's wife. Erica was so strong, centered and calm, but Barbara knew this was killing them. She hadn't missed the way her mother looked at Erica now. The same way Barbara's friend Josie's mom looked at her old rich husband.
"You guys, okay?" Their
