Page 24 of To Save Him

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BRANDON GOT THE job and I wasn’t surprised.  His charms alone would convince any employer to take him on.  I reflected back onourfirst meeting, and what struck me the most was that Brandon was outgoing and friendly but also sincere.  No matter what business he’d applied for, an employer would be a fool to not give him a chance.

Add to it, it was pretty obvious the young man had all kinds of upper body strength.  In a home improvement business, that would be a huge asset, and I could imagine little old ladies and cougars like myself needing extra help getting unnecessary purchases to the car just to spend a little time with the muscular fellow with the killer cheekbones.

His first day was an orientation day, but by Friday, he was on the regular schedule and he was working a swing shift.  Annabel was also working that evening, so it was just JR and me, and we decided to have tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.  JR was finishing up his math homework at the kitchen table while I stood at the stove cooking.  “Did you hear Brandon last night?”

My son’s words gave me pause.  “What do you mean?”  I kept my eyes on the skillet, because I didn’t want it obvious just how much I felt concerned for our guest-turned-family-member.

“I think he had a nightmare.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He was yelling.  Really loud.  I can’t believe you didn’t hear it.”

“Did he wake Annabel up, too?”

“I don’t know.  She didn’t say anything.  I almost checked on him but he sounded kinda scary.”

“Scary?  How?”

JR was thinking about it, struggling with something, so I just stood in silence, spatula in hand, and waited patiently.  “He was yelling or moaning at first and then he said something.  But then he was—almost like screaming, saying something likeGet that away from me!  He kept saying it over and over again.”

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been the victim of a nightmare, but I knew their power, how they could grip you in the moment, make you feel helpless, afraid, in jeopardy, unable to save yourself.  No matter how unrealistic the scenario, dreams were the stuff of emotions and they played on your fears.

At least mine did.

But it sounded like Brandon was dealing with something like that too.  It made my heart ache for him all the more.  And with our help, getting him on his feet, helping him find some stability, maybe bad dreams would be a thing of the past.  “Did anything else happen?”

“I didn’t know he was having a nightmare at first.  But when I did, I got out of bed.  Like I said, I almost went into his room but decided not to.  So I knocked on the wall.  I just kept saying his name, asking if he was all right.  Then it got quiet.  I was kinda freaked out, but I got back in bed and then he saidsorryandthanksand said he had a nightmare.”

“Thanks for checking on him, son.”

“Well, yeah.  He’s…kinda like my new brother.  That’s what we do.”

Oh…I should have seen that coming.  Sweet Brandon had already fully captured my youngest son’s heart—and why wouldn’t he?  There was a lot to be said for bonding over videogames.

It made me yearn for earlier times when my children were young and under my wing.  Maybe I couldn’t turn back the clock, but I could do something that would help us all bond as a family.  I walked over to the white board calendar by the fridge, the one where I had the kids write down their activities.  Annabel also wrote her work schedule there and I already had Brandon doing the same.  “Looks like we’re all free Saturday afternoon.  Should we have a picnic?”

JR had already returned to the last problem in his book.  He looked up, a grin on his face.  “With fried chicken and potato salad?  And coleslaw?”

Of course…my growing son would give me the menu.  Guess I’d be slaving over a stove Saturday morning.  “Yes, and maybe flying kites or tossing a Frisbee.  Sound good?”

“All of us?”

“You’ll have to help me talk Annabel into it.”

JR grinned.  “That’s easy.  Just ask Liam to come.  And if you make chocolate chip cookies, he will.”

“Really?  Chocolate chip cookies?  How do you know that?”

“Liam’s cool.  We talk.”

I picked up the dry erase marker and wrotefamily picnicon the calendar.  I was still smiling as I set a bowl of hot soup in front of my son.

 

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