Stu tucked his fingers into his front pockets and came into the room. “I don’t know if she can get better. But, let’s talk about yesterday—”
“Why did Jackie go see that man? What does he want with her? What did he do to my mom?” The questions tumbled from Ian. He stood up, his stance rigid. He wanted answers.
“I’m trying to figure that out.”
“You never know what’s going on,” Ian yelled. “You would if you were home more often. I bet if you were here, Jackie wouldn’t have gone to see that man and Mom would be OK.”
“No one can tell your mom what to do when she’s Jackie,” Stu firmly replied. “I’ve tried. Lord knows, I’ve tried.”
“No, you haven’t!”
“Enough!” Stu bellowed. To Ian’s mortification, sobs volleyed from his chest. Why, oh why, did he have to cry in front of his dad? Stu pointed a finger at Ian. “What you did yesterday—”
“I was trying to help her,” Ian defended before his dad could reprimand him. After yesterday’s pay-phone call, he knew it was coming. He’d been expecting it. Ian roughly dragged his sleeves across his eyes. He smacked his chest. “I make sure she’s safe and doesn’t get hurt.” And he’d done a horrible job in that department. He and his mom were both hurting today because Ian had failed to get the keys from Jackie. “It’s my fault she went to see him,” Ian sobbed. “I’ll try harder next time. I know I’m stronger than Jackie so I should be able to stop her next time.”
“That’s not your job.”
“Then do yours!” Ian’s guilt shifted to anger faster than his mom shifted personas, flaming his disappointment in his dad. Stu had failed them.
Stu raised a fist. Ian flinched, but he stood his ground, his muscles so tense he felt the beginnings of a headache.
Stu swore loudly, then lowered his arm. “Do not take that tone with me. That’s your warning.” He showed Ian his fist.
“Or what?” Ian challenged. “You’ll hit me? You’ll ground me? I’m stuck here already. You’re never home. I take care of her because you don’t.” He took a step forward. He might be only twelve, but he was taller than his mom. Stronger and faster, too. He’d been exercising a lot lately, running on the school’s track team. He could do one hundred sit-ups and almost fifty push-ups. In another couple of years, he might be as tall as his dad. Maybe taller. “I know she won’t admit it, but Mom wants me to take pictures. She asks to see them all the time. I know she wants me to help because she can’t rely on you. You don’t care about her.”
His dad saw red. His cheeks turned purple and he raised his fist again. Ian braced for the blow. He deserved it. He’d been pushing his dad’s temper, testing them both. He couldn’t help it. Yesterday had scared him. He’d been fighting that fear all night. What if Clancy had physically hurt his mom? Or worse, murdered her?
Stu shook out his hand and put some distance between him and Ian. He locked his hands behind his neck and circled the room before coming to a stop in front of the closet on the opposite side of the room from Ian.
“I care about your mother. More than you can imagine,” he said quietly, his tone carrying a note of anguish.
“No, you don’t.” Ian shook his head as he spoke the words. “You’re always leaving us, and when you’re home, you spend the whole time in the basement. You don’t want to be with us. You hide now when Jackie’s around.”
“Because she doesn’t want me around.” He swore. “Ian, just—”
“My pictures will help Mom keep Jackie away.” He hiccupped. Tears dampened his face, dropped off his chin. “Then, maybe ... maybe you’ll stay home with us.”
Ian roughly wiped his face. He hated crying. He gritted his teeth and tightened his fists, focusing on his anger to staunch the flow. Movement in the doorway yanked his attention. “Mom?”
“Hi, Ian.” She smiled and went straight to the corner where Ian kept the plastic bin of LEGOs. She dragged the bin to the center of the room. It scraped across the wood floor. She sank to her knees and removed the lid. “Do you want to build a starship with me?”
“What are you doing, Sarah?” Stu looked down in horror at his wife. “We have to go to the hospital.”
Sarah scooped a handful of bricks and spread them out on the floor. “Maybe you can build a space station and I’ll do the starship. Is that something you want to do, Ian?”
Stu’s face turned white. He gripped Sarah under her shoulder and lifted her off the floor. “Sarah, we have to go.”
“No.” She twisted from his grasp and scooted out of reach. “I want to play with Ian.”
“Sarah.” Stu reached for her again. She smacked away his hand.
“That’s not Mom. It’s Billy.” Ian had told his dad about Billy, but Stu hadn’t met Sarah’s newest alternate personality, or what the doctors referred to asalters, yet.
Stu visibly swallowed. He dragged a hand down his mouth and chin, unsure of what to do. Ian hadn’t seen his dad look this uncomfortable. He watched Sarah separate the bricks by size and color. His eyes sheened. He lowered until eye level with Billy. “Sarah, the doctor is waiting for us.” He spoke calmly and slowly.
Billy shook his head.
“How about you bring some LEGOs with you?” Stu negotiated. “You can play with them on the drive over.”