Protecting Her(114)

When I arrive home, Charles is there, making dinner. Garret runs up to me, like he always does.

“Hi, Dad.” He hugs me and I lean down and hug him back.

“Hello, Garret.”

He should be mad at me for how I treated him last night, but he’s not. That’s another way he’s like Rachel. He doesn’t hold a grudge. The two of us can argue, and by the next day, he’s over it.

“What are we having for dinner, Charles?” I take my coat off and set my keys on the counter.

“Pizza. It was Garret’s request.” Charles smiles at him. “He even helped me make it.”

“I added the toppings,” Garret says.

Charles checks the oven. “It should be done in a few minutes.”

“I’ll go up and change.” I make my way up to the bedroom and change out of my suit.

When I come back down, Garret is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. He looks excited about something. He hasn’t looked that way since before his mother died.

“I want to show you something.” He takes my hand.

“What are you showing me?”

“Just wait.” He drags me through the living room, past the kitchen, and into the family room.

“We’re having movie night!” he says, his voice filled with excitement.

There’s a stack of movies on the floor in front of the TV. And along the wall is the foldout table Rachel used to set up every Friday night for family movie night. We haven’t had one since she died.

Garret takes me over to the table, which is topped with a big bowl of popcorn, cans of soda, licorice, and small boxes of candy. The licorice is sticking out of a glass jar, which is how Rachel used to always arrange it.

“I set everything up all by myself,” Garret says. “Look! I even made the sign.” He holds up a piece of paper that reads ‘concession stand’ and has dancing popcorn and soda people drawn on it. Rachel used to make a sign just like that, or sometimes she’d have Garret do it.

“That’s why Garret requested pizza,” Charles says, walking into the family room. “He said it’s tradition for movie night.”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “It was.”

My gaze wanders back to the concession stand and then the movies on the floor. It’s all too much. It’s too much of a reminder of her. Memories come rushing back as I look around the room. Memories of Rachel in my arms as we sat on the couch, with Garret on the floor in front of us, sitting in his beanbag chair. He even brought the chair out. I’d hidden it away, not wanting to see it because it reminds me of our movie nights.

“What do you think?” Garret asks.

I feel him looking at me, but I can’t look back at him. I’m so angry at him right now. I don’t want this. I hate it! It’s just a reminder of how great our lives used to be. How much I want that life back. How much I miss her. How much I miss the three us together as a family.

“Go to your room!” I yell at him. “Right now!”

Garret backs away, startled. “Why? What did I do wrong?”

“Everything!” I scream as I storm over to the concession stand. “How dare you do this! This was HER idea! HER tradition!” I sweep my hand across the table, knocking the bowl of popcorn and the neatly arranged boxes of candy on the floor. “We will NOT disrespect her by doing this without her!” I take the sign and rip it in half and toss it on the floor. “Do you understand me?” I scream it at him.

Garret stands there, staring at me, his body rigid, like he’s afraid to move. He’s breathing fast, his lip quivering, but he manages to nod in response to my question.

“Go upstairs!” I yell at him. “Now!”

His eyes stay on my face for just a moment, then he turns and runs off and up to his room.

Charles remains in the family room as I assess the mess I made.

“I’ll clean this up,” I tell him. “You don’t have to.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He sounds angry and I look up and see the anger on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“You don’t know?” He sighs and shakes his head.

“What?” I ask.

“Did you not just see what happened here? Did you not see his face? What the hell were you thinking, yelling at him like that?”

“He knows better than to do something like this. Throwing his mother’s memory in my face! Making this even harder on me! He knows how I’m suffering, and then he goes and does this!” I motion to the table.