Page 26 of Out Of A Fix

“Sorry about the swearing, but listen, your mom’s been gone almost two years, and you’re all holding it together, and that’s unheard of. You’re all phenomenal.”

Darwin gave me a wobbly, watery smile.

“Dad kind of checked out, but so did I,” Griff confessed, looking at me and then at his sister and brother. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll be better.”

“Being able to even say Mom again will help,” Darwin expressed. “I always think of saying stupid stuff like, Oh, Mom really loves avocados, but I don’t say it because I’m afraid I’ll hurt your feelings,” he directed to Griff, “or make Tatum cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she promised. “I mean, I might not mean to cry,” she amended. “But if I do, it’s because I miss her, not because you hurt my feelings.”

“But is it okay to remind each other all the time that we miss her?” Griff asked the table. “Or should we do it Dad’s way and pretend she’s dead?”

About to chime in, I thought better of it. They should talk it out themselves.

“I don’t think pretending she’s dead is good,” Tatum told her brothers. “I think maybe it’s like Nash said. She could’ve been thinking about us too.”

Darwin nodded.

“We’re never gonna know,” Griff offered. “So maybe thinking the best of her, not the worst like we have been, like she just didn’t want us, would be better.”

All eyes on me.

“I agree that would be better. I try to always do that. Give people the benefit of the doubt. It’s like when somebody yells at you for no reason, maybe try and think that someone they love is sick or they lost their dog. You don’t know, and until you do, how can you be mad at them? At the same time, you shouldn’t let people take things out on you.”

They all remained quiet.

“But I’m thinking I wanna do two things, all right?”

They were listening and waiting.

“First, from now on, you’re all gonna start leaning on each other.”

Griff gave me a head tip of agreement, Tatum smiled, and Darwin said okay.

“And second, has anyone suggested any kind of therapy to any of you?”

They exchanged glances.

“Yes? No?”

“Let me think…” Tatum said softly.

“My homeroom teacher,” Griff began, “my guidance counselor, my human geography teacher, my⁠—”

“Your what?”

“Human geography,” he repeated, like I should know what that was.

“It’s like social studies,” Darwin explained.

I kept feeling older and older.

“My science teacher,” Griff went on.

“Mrs. Hardin remains very concerned about my mental and emotional health,” Darwin chimed in. “She’s my main teacher, and then there’s Mrs. Golden, my advisor, Mr. Cho, my principal, Mr. Naylor, my⁠—”

“The FBI people who talked to Daddy said we should see a therapist so we wouldn’t be all fucked up,” Tatum blurted.

We all turned to her.