“Absolutely.” I’m not sure what she wants to discuss but I’m happy to listen. I feel even worse when she grins and squeezes my shoulder in passing, her other arm looped through Tev’s. He escorts her to a seat and takes the empty one next to her. I shake my head and flex my fingers. He might be the hottest man I’ve ever seen in real life, and one of the biggest, but his maybe-wife is such an amazing creature. It didn’t take long last week to figure that out. And I refuse to lust after a married man. I’m better than that.
“Hello, everyone!” I start the meeting once everyone else has found a seat. A few share their personal experiences with caring for someone with chronic illness. Seril listens and nods along, reaching out to the woman next to her to hold her hand while she recounts a difficult day with her son who has Epilepsy. Tev rolls his eyes and slouches in his seat with a huff at Seril’s actions and anger burns in my gut. What’s his problem? Seril is comforting another human being in pain, and he’s irritated?
In an instant my fascination with him evaporates as if it never existed. Some people are pretty on the outside but the ugliness inside has a way of making its way out eventually.
When the woman finishes, there is a moment of silence. Seril smacks Tev on the thigh, then motions to the room. He shakes his head with a growl.A growl. “Oh hush, tell them about Arlo. It’ll be good to get it out.”
“Seril.” The stern tone of his voice sends a shiver down my spine. I don’t know if it’s fear for her safety or residual attraction.
“She just poured her heart out about her boy. That’s the whole point of these meetings, connecting with others that can understand what you’re going through, relate to your pain, and impotence. Now, it’s your turn.”
“Seril, if he doesn’t want to—” I start but my teeth clack together when he glares at me, strong brows pronounced, lips pursed. I swallow hard and try a different tactic. “How old is your son?” I’m a little confused why she wants him to share, but perhaps he’s having a hard time accepting their child’s health conditions. Her journey with her mother was compelling enough, but to have a child with special needs too—
“19 months.” “9 months.” My head cocks to the side as I stare at them in confusion.
Seril laughs, patting Tev on the thigh again, “Sorry. Habit. My son is 9 months. Tevye’s son is 19 months.”
“You each brought a child with special needs to your marriage?” One of the other women sympathetically voices one of the questions rattling around my brain. Tev growls again while Seril laughs harder.
“Tev is my…brother-in-law. Oh God!” She wipes at a few tears under her eyes, her smile blinding. “Moshe is gonna love this!” She points back and forth between her and Tevye. “They think we’re married! To each other!”
“Yes. Yes. My imminent demise is hilarious.” He is anything but amused, but his expression softens slightly when he looks at me. “Not married. Fucked—uh, had a one-night stand with a woman. Then she drops a sick 5-month-old boy on my doorstep and vanishes.”
“That must have been a jarring experience.” He dips his chin once, his eyes moving over my shoulder. He’s uncomfortable and I fight everything inside me not to throw myself into his big, burly arms and soothe him.
“He has MSUD. His mother didn’t know how to help him, nor did she have the means. I do. And I’m taking care of it.” He turns his head slowly to glare at Seril, his upper lip curling in a sneer. “I don’t need to talk about it. It is what it is and that’s it.”
I’d like to say this reaction is rare, but it’s not. Some parents, male or female, detach emotionally, if not physically, when their child becomes ill. And chronic illness isn’t for the faint of heart. It’s constant vigilance, long nights, failed treatments, pain, suffering…and for many, it’s inconvenient. I wish it were different, and that’s why I hold these support meetings. It’s why I travel to people’s homes and work tirelessly to give them a better quality of life.
All that compounded by the fact that it doesn’t sound like Tevye wanted a child with this woman, or at all, and now he’s bound by societal and familial obligation to care for a helpless human being that requires lifelong assistance, I can understand his bad attitude. Doesn’t mean I like it, but it isn’t my place to tell him how to feel.
One of my regulars, Jodie, clears her throat and leans forward in her chair, her eyes pinned on Tevye. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what you’ve been through. Or what your life is like. However, may I ask you a question?” Tev breathes in so deeply his nostrils flare, but he nods curtly to encourage her. “If Seril’s husband, your brother if I understand correctly, comes to you and tells you he has just been diagnosed with MS or cancer…would it be his fault?”
“No,” Tev grits out immediately.
“Would you treat him differently? Withdraw emotionally? Leave him to fend for himself?”
“Fuck no.” I hide my smile behind my hand, Seril does no such thing. She’s practically vibrating in her chair with excitement at this line of questioning. “He’s my…brother.”
“Doesn’t your son deserve the same loyalty? Maybe even more so since he is so vulnerable at his age?” Tev doesn’t respond, in fact, I don’t even know if he’s breathing. “Like I said, I don’t know you. I don’t know what it’s like to have a child with MSUD…since I don’t know what that is.” A few of us chuckle with her. “But I knowmykids. I know I am their shield. The only thing that stands defiant between them and the world. But their bodies,” she sniffles, squares her shoulders and continues, “their bodies fight against them, and my only weapons are advocacy, diligence, and love. They aren’t just people, they are an extension of myself, my husband. They are the best of both of us, and I will wield whatever weapons are at my disposal to fight back when they can’t. Because I’m their mother. It isn’t my duty…it’s my privilege.”
“Damn,” Seril mutters, her awed expression mirroring everyone else’s. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor startles most of us. I jump in my seat, watching Tevye stand abruptly and march across the meeting room. His large hand slaps the door to open it, slamming it against the wall and nearly off its hinges.
I rub my sweaty palms along my thighs, then curl my fingers into my jeans and thighs, forcing myself to stay in my seat. Every molecule in my body yearns to follow him. I can’t even tell you why, because I don’t know. I don’t understand this…compulsion where that man is concerned. It’s unsettling. Emotional whiplash.
At least he’s not married.
“Well said, Jodie.” We share a small smile, her eyes darting toward the door. “Our time is up for today, but I hope that each of you can find moments of peace this week. And I look forward to hearing all about them at our next meeting. Thank you for coming.”
The air as we break apart is heavy. Thick with emotion. Several attendees help me clean up, stack chairs, and take a few snacks for the road with a wave.
“Vandy?” I spin around to find Seril leaning against the empty refreshments table, her arms crossed. “He’ll be ok.”
“I’m sure he will.”
“Liar,” she jokes, standing up straight and approaching me. She pulls a card from her back pocket and hands it over. I accept it without looking at it. “Are you free Friday for lunch?”
I mentally run through my calendar, “Yeah, I think so.”