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A story about a family torn a part by domestic abuse. |
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Leo smiled. “Hi its nice to meet you. I’m uh your Grandpa.” Hannah made to embrace the twins before a warning look from Leo made her stop. Instead she just beamed and asked the kids whether or not they wanted cookies. Two hesitant nods were her reply. The girl, Magda, walked slowly behind Hannah after a go-ahead look from the boy. The boy, Mikael, stood his ground and eyed Leo with suspicious curiosity. “You’re not my grandfather. You don’t have to pretend to like me.” Leo kept his face neutral even as his heart pounded. So much rided on this first meeting. Everything could be lost or won in the blink of an eye. The pressure had gotten to him in the form of sleepless nights and chain smoking in the backyard long after Hannah had gone to sleep. She’d known of course about the new pack of Marlboro Reds in the shed but said nothing, she knew how much was riding on this too. “Well,” Leo began. “How about I like you anyway. How about just friends?” His voice, to his amazement came out monotone, an air of nonchalance to it. “You’d be my oldest friend,” remarked Mikael. His voice slightly raising with unwanted interest. “Well you’d be my youngest friend.” Mickael, or Micke as he was known to everyone but his father, took a half step forward, almost teetering on his right foot. “What do we even have in common?” The young voice held to much maturity for the boy’s seven years. It rocked Leo, impressed and saddened him. “Well what kind of things do you like?” “Big wheels and stuff.” “Huh, well I like big wheels, too.” Silence. Afraid of it lasting to long, Leo took a chance and asked “Do you like music?” “Yea.” “Me too.” Micke’s eyebrows shot up and asked suspiciously, “What Kind of music though?” “Well I like rock and roll.” Micke smiled his first smile. A sight to be seen, as it lit up his large brown eyes, Leo could see how young and beautiful his grandson really was. Leo rode the momentum and suggested they listen to records (old people’s music) or something on the YouTube. The latter coming from an almost forgotten conversation with his son Harald some months ago. He wasn’t 100% sure what the YouTube was but it made Micke smile and that was enough for him. Hannah, in all her infinite wisdom, took that moment to ask the gentleman if they would be joining them for cookies. Micke let Leo walk in first. Micke asked Leo quietly as they entered the room if he really could have a cookie. Leo replied, have two, I’m having two. Micke nodded in approval. “Would you like milk or juice with that guys?” Four brown eyes got huge at the suggestion. Magda, as always, spoke first. “Can we really have cookies And juice?” Hannah found herself suddenly teary-eyed. But she turned quickly and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. It was hard for her not to rush and give these kids all the love she had been denied giving them for so long. But she and Leo had spoken. He warned her that if she scared them off there wouldn’t be a second chance, and if there was they would miss out on even more of their grandchildren’s lives. Hannah swallowed. “Yes you can have both.” Magda, or Maggie, looked to Micke and both children smiled in unison. With looks that clearly implied the two felt they were getting away with something huge. … Lisbeth stood off to the side in the foyer, poised for flight, as her parents interacted with the twins. A lot of emotions were coursing through her but the only one she could pinpoint was the need to escape, for air. Her panicked eyes found mine and I tentatively suggested a walk. She looked at her parents. Hannah smiled and Leo did not make eye contact. “That’s fine with us, as long as its OK with these two.” The twins gave nods and Lisbeth was out the front door in a flash. As soon as I stepped onto the front porch she asked me for a cigarette. I conceded and we made our way down the winding front walk. “He’s going to be so pissed about this.” I nodded. I had already made up my mind to stay neutral. But as she fiddled with her cigarette and stared at me with her wild vacant eyes, I took a breathe and made a decision. “Does he hit them?” “No. He just yells a lot.” “Do they get scared?” My throat was tightening. I was so afraid to scare her off. “Yea. Yea they do.” I solemnly nodded again. “Does he know where your parents live?” “No he has no clue, not since they moved anyway.” “Where does he think you all are?” Lis took a long drag. “School trip, said I needed to chaperone for the weekend.” She looked to me as if she wanted me to give her some sort of pat on the back. Instead I said “You could just stay, ya know.” Laughing with a slight bitter tone, she stated, “Yea I’m sure my parents would love that.” “Are you kidding me. I don’t think there is anything they’d like better.” “You’re asking to much.” “Maybe, but the kids could stay.” She openly gaped at me as she threw down the butt in defiance. I began to speak quickly. I knew my window was small. “You can’t leave him, I get that. I completely get that. But they can. If you can’t leave then let me go. Put them first.” I could sense, rather than see her getting angrier. I continued to avoid eye contact and plowed on. “This is your moment to let them free. To give them a second chance. Love him all you want but love them more. Do you really want Micke to grow up learning how to hit, or Maggie learning that’s it ok to be hit? I know you don’t. Let all four of them have this.” “They’ll feel abandoned.” She said it so quietly I barely heard her. I was getting to her. “At first maybe yea. But this is a bigger picture kind of thing. One of those ‘you’ll get when you’re older’ conversations. I’m not saying leave them here forever. But I think a summer would be ok.” She looked at me once. I could see tears in her eyes. Then she turned and walked off alone into the park, in search of something … She walked far into the park, made so many rounds of the perimeter she lost track, she felt the distance only in her legs. Her depression overwhelmed her and her thoughts pressed down with frightening pressure. She kept walking to breathe. Not the kind of breathe we need to survive but the kind of breathe our souls need to exist. The truth was beginning to creep into the little cracks she thought she had sealed up so tight. She recognized truth when she heard it, she just had become an expert at ignoring it. Because the truth hurt to much. The truth left gaping holes in her heart, in her lungs. She couldn’t breathe when Truth came to town. In quiet moments like these, which were very far and few between. She knew this wasn’t the life she wanted for herself, for her kids. She had a rational side, the part of her that could still react at his anger, still be stung by his actions and words. But this was her life now. She made her choices long ago. She’d picked him and walked away from her family. There was no going back for her. But the twins? Again truth began gnawing away at her mind. Truth be told the twins had been an accident. He never wanted kids, he’d made that plain. His only redeeming quality had been that. He didn’t want to pass what he had on to any children. He’d wanted to end the cycle with himself. But years of unprotected sex, his demand, had led to the inevitable. He’d told her in no uncertain terms to have an abortion. And he’d left her when he’d found out. Off to one of his many conquests. He’d even accused her of cheating on him, claiming the pregnancy couldn’t possibly be his fault.She’d gone back home after that and spiraled into a deep depression. But by the time she’d gone to the doctor it was to late to have an abortion. Despite the protests of her friends and family, she’d contacted him after the babies were born. He’d been down on his luck, no money, no more women to use and he’d ‘begged’ her to return. Told that he’d try, that they could become the family he knew all along she’d always wanted. But she hadn’t wanted a family with him, not really. But a family is what she had, and in her mind it was only right to return to their father. And so for the last seven years they’d tried to make it work. He continued to cheat on her, although it was no longer spoken of. He continued to hit and berate her, but she no longer put up a fight. It was her life, it worked because she made it work. It just Had to work. All had gone on as the norm until a few months ago. She’d sprung for a hotel for the two of them to have a special weekend alone. She was forever trying to make it work, using whatever she could to force it. They’d gotten drunk, always a mistake, and watched the last game of the hockey finals of the Olympics. The U.S. Men’s team lost the game and he’d gotten angry and as always she was there to catch the brunt of it. That time she’d had to go to the ER…they was no other way. The Twins were left alone at the apartment and she sat in the hospital for a week. She still wasn’t sure where he’d gone for the duration but she knew the kids were left to their own devises. She’d called a neighbor who was kind enough to stop in and look after them for a few hours each day. But even in her fog she knew it wasn’t right. After being discharged, in the taxi home, she’d made her decision. The next day she’d called a childhood friend. Even after a seven year break, the friend was responsive. The friend in turn had contacted her folks and a plan to visit was established. Once he’d come back he’d of course be repentant and more open to her words. Her story of chaperoning the kid’s field trip had gone off without a hitch. And she was 3,000 miles away in her old neighborhood contemplating abandoning her children. How had it all come to this? Part of her wanted to run back to the house, scoop them up and return home, hoping once again for a fresh start. But her wrist still ached, her ribs still throbbed and the truth had seeped into her consciousness a little to deeply. She knew what she had to do. She had to love them more. |
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