Chapter 29: Sick World
The facial tics were disturbing. Both Dr. Diaz and WebMD assured her that the twitching was not uncommon and would soon subside, yet here they were, ten days into his Ritalin prescription and the synaptic spasms persisted. Every time his little body jolted she had to fight back tears.
She watched them from the hallway. Evan picked at his food while Maddy gave a YouTube tutorial with pizza sauce smeared from her mouth to her dimples. โAnd this is Grumpy Cat.โ Mason was wedged between them on the couch, downing slice after slice with a casual voracity that could only be described as Davidesque.
He laughed at something on the tablet and almost lost a mouthful of Meat Lovers with extra cheese.
Maddy smiled at him. โSee? Computers are fun. You donโt have to be afraid.โ
โAfraid?โ He swallowed his food. โYou should know by now that I ainโt afraid of nothing. Remember the way I took out that robber?โ He acted out a choke slam.
Brooke rolled her eyes in the shadows.
โHey,โ Maddy protested. โMe and Evan helped.โ
He reached for another slice of pizza.
โI know somebody youโre afraid of,โ said her daughter with a sly smile. โMy mommy.โ
“Psshh,โ he grinned at Evan. โAre you hearing this Commando?โ
Brooke walked into the living room and began cleaning up. โAll right guys. Bed time. Say good night to Mason.โ
A cascade of crumbs fell from Evanโs lap as he stood and slogged toward the staircase.
Maddy pouted, attempting to buy time. โBut Mom โฆ I didnโt get to ask him about music class.โ
โAsk while youโre walking, Madison.โ
โOkay. Do you think I should sign up for tuba or violin?โ
He reached for his water as Brooke raked the parmesan cheese packets and used napkins into an empty pizza box. She flinched as the glass passed in front of her face. Soap scum.
He either didnโt notice or didnโt care. โIs this a trick question? Have you ever met a tuba-playing rock star? I vote violin.โ
โMe too!โ said Maddy, disappearing up the stairs. โNighty-night, Mason.โ
He caught Brooke staring and lowered his voice. โWhy are you looking at me like that? Should I have gone with tuba?โ
She snapped out of it. โNo โฆ no, I was hoping she’d choose the violin.โ
He continued to watch her over the rim of his glass. โWhat about Evan? Is he thinking of picking up an instrument? Seems like heโd be a natural drummer, all that energy.โ
Evan. For the thousandth time, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.
โAt least he had a lot of energy,โ Mason said. โI barely recognized the kid in my truck today. So quiet. It was like he wasnโt even there. Except for that horrible twitching.โ
His words hit a nerve. โItโs actually a common side effect of his medication.โ
โWhich part? The disappearing personality or the twitching?โ
Although she agonized over these exact questions, his interrogation was making her defensive. โLook, I happen to work in the medical field. I spend over forty hours a week around doctors. These are not just colleagues, theyโre friends. Trust me, my sonโs treatment plan is being closely monitored by some of the best health care providers in the state.โ
โTreatment plan for what?โ
She rolled her eyes. โI doubt youโd be familiar with the diagnosis.โ
He didnโt budge. โTry me.โ
โFine,โ she sighed. โHeโs combined type Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, displaying both inattentive as well as hyperactive and impulsive symptoms. Not that itโs any of your business.โ
His smile was infuriating. โSo basically a bunch of fancy words for normal, energetic little kid?โ
โWell his teacher and his doctor and Blane would tend to disagree. Not to mention millions of families all over the world.โ
His face hardened at the mention of Blane. โSounds like Iโm outnumbered and outgunned then. Who am I to argue with teachers and doctors and Blane? But let the record reflect that in the opinion of this lowly convict, eleven-year-old boys shouldnโt be put on dope because theyโre too hyper for their teachers or their doctors or their mothersโ boyfriends to handle.โ He stood up. โThereโs nothing wrong with Evan. Itโs the world thatโs sick. Iโll let myself out.โ
She stormed down the hallway after him. โHow dare you insinuate that Iโm a bad mother!โ
โI didnโtโโ
โHow convenient for you to stroll in here with your simplistic world view and your cereal box psychology and your โฆ your โฆโ She groped for hurtful words. โYour prison tattoos! Youโve never had to chase him around a department store or punish him for making an F. Youโve never had to physically detach him from his Xbox controller.โ
He paused at the door. โYouโre right. But arenโt you the one that said your kids arenโt stupid, just inexperienced? How can Evan learn from his experiences when heโs doped into submission? Little boys are naturally hyper. I sure as hell was. But that energy ought to be harnessed and directed, not medicated into oblivion.โ
โIs that how you turned out to be such a winner?โ she smirked. โForgive me if Iโm not inspired by your example.โ
His eyes flashed pain. She regretted her words even as she spoke them. Mason was a good man. It was herself she was grappling with.
โGood night, Brooke.โ He opened the door.
Blane was standing on her welcome mat, his gelled hair gleaming in the yellow glow of the porch light. He was holding a single red rose. His sculptured eyebrow ascended like a half moon on the smooth, tanned skin of his forehead.
โAm I interrupting something?โ
Chapterย 30: The Winner Mows by Night
He mowed with a vengeance, taking his anger out on the overgrown yard. An arcing spray of cut grass rainbowed in his wake, phosphorescent in the moonlight. A rock pinged off his truck. He used his forearm to wipe the dust from his brow and kept pushing, as if the lawnmower blades could lay low his shame, his guilt, his powerlessness, along with the grass.
Across the street, Franโs bedroom light switched on. He figured he was violating some noise ordinance by mowing after 10:00 p.m., probably a black mark on his neighborhood watch report card. But he was mowing his grass. It seemed like that would merit a gold star in his homeowners association file. Who constituted these shadowy organizations anyway? The only one he ever saw was Fran. Was she both judge and jury? He was beginning to not care. Maybe it was time to sell the house and move away โฆ some place where he could be anonymous โฆ where his criminal history wasnโt common knowledge.
Brookeโs words echoed in his mind. As loud as the lawnmower was, it still couldnโt drown them out. โIs that how you turned out to be such a winner?โ He pushed harder. Rounding the river birch and wrought iron chairs, to the hedges and back in long vertical lines, up and down, over and over.
He was near the front porch step when he noticed her. She was standing at the edge of the driveway in sweatpants and a tank top, hair up in a scrunchy, face scrubbed clean of makeup and achingly beautiful.
He ripped the lawnmower in a 180-degree turn and headed back toward the hedges. When he returned she was blocking his path. He tried to go around her but she was too quick.
He killed the engine. โWhat?โ
โAre you crazy?โ
He shook his head. โJust a loser.โ
She flinched but stayed the course. โItโs too late at night to be mowing your lawn. Someone will call the police.โ
He glanced at Franโs house. โI donโt care.โ
โMason, please โฆ Iโm sorry, okay?โ
โApology accepted. Go away.โ
He left the lawnmower in the grass and walked over to the porch. She followed.
โCome on.โ She sat down next to him, her arm grazing his. โYou of all people should believe in second chances. I was wrong tonight. I admit it. I lashed out at you. You didnโt deserve that. Iโm just under an unbelievable amount of stressโฆโ
Her words trailed off into the now lawnmowerless night.
โWhereโs Blane?โ
โHe went home.โ She hugged herself and rubbed her arms. โItโs cold out here.โ
He envied her hands. โDo you want to come inside?โ
She shook her head. โI can only stay a second. Maddyโs still awake. I just wanted to apologize for being so rude and โฆ with all the chaos earlier I forgot to tell you the exciting news.โ
He waited in silence, watching her. His eyes were drawn to a lonely freckle suspended on the side of her graceful neck, inches beneath her pierced earlobe.
โI have a friend from work who wants to go out with you.โ
He blinked. The spell was broken. โThatโs the big news?โ
Her eyes sparkled. โYes!โ
โIโll pass.โ
โCome on, Mason. How long has it been since youโve enjoyed the company of a beautiful woman?โ
โIโm doing that right now.โ
She swatted his knee. โStop. Iโm being serious.โ
He focused on a bright and distant light in the sky. Whether star, planet, or satellite, he couldnโt tell. โI donโt want to go on a date with anyone.โ
โBut youโd love her. Sheโs exactly your type.โ
โIโm sorry, Brooke. I just donโt think itโd be a good idea.โ
โPlease,โ she pouted. โI already told her you would. Sheโs so excited. I donโt want to hurt her feelings.โ
He turned to her, searching her eyes. โYou really want me to date someone?โ
She nodded. โI think youโll adore her.โ
โOkay. One date.โ
She clapped her hands.
He continued to stare at her. โUnder one condition.โ
โWhat?โ
โTake Evan off that zombie medication.โ
She blew a loose strand of hair from her face. โPlease donโt start this again.โ
โHe doesnโt need it. He just needs direction. Look, you said yourself there is too much estrogen in your household. Let me work with him.โ
โMason, I know your heartโs in the right place, butโโ
โGo ahead and say it. Iโm not the stereotypical role model. No argument there. But me and Evan are a lot more alike than you think. I wasnโt much older than he is now when I lost my dad. Over the last thirty years, prison psych doctors have diagnosed me with everything from seasonal depression to borderline personality disorder to PTSD. And if ADHD was popular when I was in elementary school, Iโm sure I wouldโve been a prime candidate for that too. I canโt even count how many medications Iโve been prescribed and refused.โ
She rocked against him with her shoulder. โThanks, that makes me feel a lot better about everything.โ
He smiled. โIโm not knocking medication. Iโm sure it saves thousands of lives but, come on, youโre a nurse. Havenโt you ever wondered how much pharmaceutical companies are making off all these prescriptions? Billions, Iโm sure, and thatโs probably lowballing it.โ
She stared into the night.
โLook, when I was thirty I met a doctor named Gavin Ponder. Real laid back dude. He wasnโt pushy at all with the meds. Just the opposite. He showed me this article in a magazine called Nature about the positive effects of exercise on the brain and how the benefits are especially pronounced in people diagnosed with some form of mental illness. That was all I needed to hear.โ
She stood up. โSo you think exercise will save my son?โ
โI think it will make him more disciplined, more confident, and burn off some of that excess energy he has.โ He walked her to the driveway. โBut Iโm not just talking exercise. Franโs been on my back about making this place presentable. He can help me do work around here too. Itโll be good for him.โ
โHmm,โ she said, wheels turning. โMale bonding.โ
โIf thatโs what you want to call it.โ
โLet me think about it.โ
He touched her wrist. โCome on, Brooke. That poor kid thatโs been staggering around here isnโt Evan. I know you want your son back.โ
She glanced in the direction of her house. โMaddy says your mom is a sweet woman.โ
โSheโs late stage Alzheimerโs. She doesnโt know who I am.โ
โMasonโฆโ Her eyes widened, then filled with tears. โYouโre hurting! I had no idea.โ
He fumbled around in his mind for the polite response but all thoughts were swallowed in the groundswell of her embrace. Slowly, carefully, he folded his arms around her.
She looked up at him. Even in the dark, her eyes were sunlight playing on the ocean, drawing him in.
Her lips parted.
He lowered his head.
โCrystal,โ she said.
He froze. โWho?โ
โYour date. Her name is Crystal.โ