A Striking Resemblance

Every drop of rain contributes to the storm.

We had a good day on the job. I wasn't sure how to think about that. I realized that I may be losing my sense of perspective when I was conflicted about having a productive day. As much as I supported the nurses and wanted them to succeed, we had a job to do, and it needed to be done. I knew that my bosses had spoken to the union representatives, and everyone was understanding of our roles.

No matter what else was occurring, this was a hospital and ultimately our job was to ensure that the power kept running. Morally, we simply couldn't refuse to do our job and put people in danger. There wasn't a chance in hell that I was going to side with management, but it was equally unlikely that I would allow there to be a chance that people would be without the power necessary to run lifesaving equipment. I found a happy medium that allowed me to live with myself.

We would do what needed to be done, but we would work at a professional pace that had been agreed upon earlier. We wouldn't be doing overtime, and we wouldn't be working any faster, at least not on this project. Thankfully, the company was big enough to have jobs throughout Pueblo and other parts of Colorado. The guys could easily pick up hours elsewhere.

After lunch, I took off for our corporate offices. I got along well with my bosses, especially recently. They knew about Gus and Shannon and had given me time off for the birth of my granddaughter. They were inordinately impressed by the fact that I was still able to get work done every day. I wasn't sure if it dawned on them that all I had to do was walk outside and do some assessing. I was already at the hospital, so getting some work done was pretty easy. I leaned on that a little and managed to get my four-day weekend.

As I was driving home that night, I received a text from Gus that made me laugh.

Weekend after next

It was three words. I knew. Trust me, I knew. Being a Marine on your first assignment doesn't leave much time for anything, let alone talking to your old man. That being said, it was perfectly Gus. My son had never been loquacious.

That cleared things up. I got the time off from work and Gus wasn't coming home until the following week. I was going away with a woman for a weekend for the first time in... I couldn't remember. Five years? More?

Pop wasn't home when I got there. He was probably out with Kate. He knew that he had hit the jackpot with her. As much as he would've feared doing so, he probably would have proposed by now if she was interested in marriage. She had lost her husband a long time ago in a boating accident and that was it for her.

He was an up-and-coming director, and the studio paid her enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She had her own career as an actress, but she packed it all in and moved far from Hollywood and from her former life, landing in Pueblo.

Maybe Pop was a part of that. I couldn't think of anyone who was further from the Hollywood stereotype than my dad. It seemed as though Kate had no regrets, but had made a clean break and started her life anew. She taught dance and volunteered at a community theater. With his mother gone and Mrs. McLarty a little too old, Gus didn't have a woman he could talk to about girls. It was Kate who he leaned on and had to teach him how to dance before his prom with Shannon.

I made two sandwiches and ate them on the porch as I called Ellie. As I dialed, I could hear Shannon playing the violin.

"Hey. If that offer is still open, I cleared my schedule."

Her voice was excited. "Even with your son?"

"Even with Gus. He's coming down the following week."

"That's great. You're going to love it. The state shooting championships are in Denver, but they're having a cowboy action shooter the day before in a small town about fifty miles outside the city. I was thinking that we could drive up on Thursday, but maybe we can leave Wednesday night and get a hotel?"

I had no idea what a cowboy action shooter or state championship was, but I was happy to be spending time with her.

"That sounds great. I'll tell Shannon and we'll leave when I get off work Wednesday night. Do you want to drive, or do you want me to?"

"I'll drive. Who's Shannon?"

I paused. The question rattled me for a moment. Her forgetting who Shannon was brought into stark realization that I barely knew this woman. Not that this was a problem. We were spending the weekend together, and I was supporting her at something she cared about. We weren't moving in together or anything, but still, we had been moving pretty quick.

"My daughter-in-law. Lucinda's mom."

"Right. I'd love to meet her when the time is right. Okay. Looking forward to this, Steve."

"Me too."

When we hung up, I walked next door. I was using my professional mindset as I stared at the house from the sidewalk. There was an underlying frustration that I couldn't put my finger on. I finally decided that I needed to widen the spouts of the gutters. But as I walked up to the stoop at the door, I realized what my issue was.

Everything was done. Mrs. McLarty's home had been renovated and baby proofed, and the job was over. It felt like it had forever been an opportunity where I could be of service to my grandchild. Now I had to be as diligent as possible in trying to find even the most minor of adjustments I could make, and it nagged at me. I wanted to, no I needed to be of service.

"Dad? Is that you? Come on in."

I hadn't knocked yet, and I still wasn't used to somebody other than Gus calling me dad. A little hesitant, I wasn't sure if she knew it was me or if Ethan was coming over. I stepped in and called out.

"Shannon, it's me."

She was smiling as she walked into the front room with her violin in one hand and bow in the other. "I know. Lucinda is sleeping. You came by to say hi?"

"Yeah, but not her. Sit down, let's talk."

She sat on the couch, and I perched my butt on a nearby ottoman.

"Okay. Is everything alright?"

I smiled, taking a moment too long before answering. "You know what? Everything is good. Really, really good. How often do you get to say that in your life? I wanted to take a minute to just talk. How are you doing?"

"The baby should be sleeping longer. She's still very quiet, though. I'll come in and I'll find her just laying there, smile on her face as she reaches up towards the mobile that glitters in the sun. She makes this little cooing sound, what am I saying, you know what I'm talking about."

While she spoke, I held my lower lip between my teeth. I tried to interrupt kindly, but firmly.

"Shannon, I asked how you're doing. I'd jump in front of a bus for my granddaughter, you know that, but this isn't about her. How are you feeling? Are you getting enough sleep? What about your playing? And when are you going back to work? Do you miss it? Maybe your aunt could let you work on some cases from home if Pop and I come by more often to help out with Lucinda. You've turned into a great mom, but you're also you."

She had put the bow down, but when I was done speaking, she picked it back up and stared at it. She lost that smile I loved seeing and was quiet. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft and hesitant.

"I'm so tired. All the time, every day. Sometimes I find myself in the kitchen staring at the wall, trying to remember why I was there. I can't... I thought it would be okay. I mean, I knew it would be hard without Gus, but we would manage, right? People have been doing it forever. That's the way some families are, one partner has to be away for a while and the other picks up the slack, but... Dad. Steve. Sometimes I wake up and I just start crying. Gus isn't here, and my mom, well, you know my mom. She tries, but, yeah. Sometimes I just want to sleep. I want to block everything out and for three or four hours I just want to close my eyes and have everything go away.

"I can't... I can't be that selfish. I can't be her. I love her, but I can't be my mom. I don't know what to do. I try to smile, and I try to be happy and I don't want to worry Gus, but sometimes I feel like I'm just barely holding it together."

How had I missed all of this? I knew in a general sense that her relationship with her mother had been strained when she was a kid, but if she was actually terrified of becoming her, how did that slip under my radar? And how did I not notice how tired she was? What the hell was wrong with me?

"Okay, listen to me carefully. This is gonna change and I mean right now. I am so sorry. I had no idea you felt like this. I'm not trying to take a shot at your mom, but you're nothing like Marianne. If that's been weighing you down and you're afraid of becoming her, don't be. You've taken to mothering like a duck takes to water. There is a technical term for being worried about whether or not you're a good enough parent. It's called being human. There isn't a parent alive who didn't go through the same thing. Take it from me, Shannon. It may not feel like it, but you're a natural. Lucinda is lucky to have you.

"I'm gonna tell you something else, too. People have been trying to give you space. They thought they were doing the right thing, but they didn't want to crowd you. Your dad and your stepmom? They'd be here every day if they could. Even me and Pop. We're always afraid that we're here too much. Kate? I'm not kidding, that woman has at least twenty outfits for Lucinda. Every time she sees a picture of the baby, she turns into a puddle of grandma goo. Even your brothers want to come by. You have support, Shannon. We just didn't know. Things are going to change. Are you hungry?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Listen, why don't you go take a long, hot shower and then crawl into bed? Let me spend some quality time with my granddaughter."

She shook her head. No, no. I'll be fine. Really. But thank you."

"When I came over here earlier? I stood outside looking at the house, trying to figure out what else I could do. I finally decided that I was going to widen the mouth on the gutters. Shannon, I was going to widen the spouts. How desperate do you have to be to decide to do that? I need to feel like I'm helpful. Let me do this. Take a few hours for yourself. Don't want to sleep? Fine. Sit in the tub and call an old friend. Watch an old movie you love on Netflix. Do something for you and let me lie to my granddaughter about how good I was at playing second base and how if I didn't go into the Marines, I would've played pro. Let me whisper my tall tales, tell her my silliest jokes, and sing to someone who's not going to run away. It's going to be okay. It really is."

I stood when she did and held her tight as she hugged me, and the tears started. They weren't only my daughter-in-law's.

"Let's sit down for a minute, okay?"

I didn't like how shaky my voice sounded. It wasn't that I was one of those guys who was afraid to seem vulnerable or weak in front of people he loved. It was just... Okay, maybe that was it. I took a deep breath and got control of myself before I continued.

"So, we've got two things happening here, right? You need a little help. Totally understandable. Nothing wrong with that and not only is it easily fixable, but people are going to jump at the chance to spend time with you and Lucinda. That's a, I don't know, logistical fix. It's easy. Take resource A and slot it into need X. Done. When you're deep in the shit, sorry, pardon my French, but when everything is going wrong, things can look insurmountable, but they're not. Shannon, I absolutely promise you, we're going to get this taken care of.

"Here's the bigger issue. Marianne. I'm going to be as respectful as possible, because I know you love your mom and I actually like her. Yeah, I was surprised to realize that, but it's true. I'm not going to say anything to her. I get it, hearing that your daughter is afraid she is going to turn into you would be like a punch to the gut. That doesn't mean we can just ignore what you're feeling, so she doesn't get hurt. I want to tell you about Gus and his mom and, and I guess about me. You want some water or something first?"

She shook her head and wiped her eyes, so I continued.

"Bear with me, okay? This is... this isn't easy. We didn't understand how and why Gus was different when he was a baby. I don't think I had any clue as to what autism was back then. I'd probably heard the word, but that was about it. What I did know was that my son was different and needed things from me that other kids didn't need from their fathers. I had to find a way to explain to him why things didn't work for him the way they did for other kids. Do you know how fast kids on the spectrum realize that they're different? It's as fast as lightning. It felt like I had a day or two to protect Gus from the realization that he was different. Yeah, I know. It was actually years, but it didn't feel like it, that's for damn sure.

"And I failed him. I failed him every single day. Gus was always smart, he always wanted to understand, and I just didn't have answers for him. For my son. It broke my heart, but what was worse, what was a million times worse, was the realization that I was one of those people that he was different from. No matter what I did, no matter how hard I worked, there would always be a barrier between me and my son. Maybe I over-thought it, maybe I gave it too much credence, but it destroyed me that we would never have the same quiet understanding that I'd had with Pop. I'd desperately needed him to know how much I loved him and that I would always be there for him, but I felt as if I had failed at getting that through, and what sort of a father did that make me?"

I leaned forward, my elbow on my knee, staring at the floor. After I took a few deep breaths, I continued.

"That faded. As the years went by and our mountain of experiences grew higher and higher, I grew more comfortable with our differences. But it never went away. Not entirely. My saving grace was also something that brought me shame. You see, Lucinda, my wife, somehow, she never had that separation from Gus. They just seemed to naturally understand each other at every level. It was like fucking magic, Shannon. She would somehow just know what he needed, what he meant, what he couldn't put into words. And the crazy thing was that it was reciprocal. He got her. He really, truly got her.

"There was nobody else in the world that he had a relationship like that with. Not me, not Pop, not his teachers or his therapists or other kids. He was able to pick up on everything with her. Social clues that normally stumped him weren't an issue. I get it. It sounds ludicrous, like some sort of magic or something, but it was real. And I'm still ashamed of the jealousy that I felt.

"She was the only person in the world that he had that relationship with...until you. There is no jealousy anymore, Shannon. Just gratitude. Just love. You and his mother were the two people that Gus is the most comfortable with, that he understands the best. And here's the thing. I see you, and in a lot of ways I'm sure that I pick up things about you that you might not see in yourself. You're as good of a mother as my wife was. You have to understand the magnitude of what I'm saying.

"You're not Marianne. Lucinda is so lucky to have you. You are going to continue to be a world-class mother. Maybe it's hard to see that right now, so until you get a little distance and things get a little easier, put your trust in me instead of in your fears. I've seen the best, Shannon. And I've seen that best under difficult circumstances. You measure up. You're going to be fine. If I was going to choose someone to be the mother of my grandchild, it would be you every damn day of the week."

I stood when she did, and Shannon hugged me again. We heard the door rattle and then open as Liz entered the house.

"Hey! Those hugs for everybody, or do I have to sign up in advance or something?"

Shannon sniffled and laughed almost simultaneously. As she stepped over to hug her aunt, I turned in the opposite direction, wiped my eyes, and took a deep breath.

"Did you bring dinner, Liz? Shannon's going to take a bath and maybe a nap while you and I hang out with Lucinda. I can order something in."

"I'm good, thank you. Listen, why don't you go check in on your granddaughter while Shannon gets ready for her bath?"

Liz was almost hovering over Shannon, and I could see her concern. Nodding, I got my granddaughter out of her bassinet and carried her into the living room while she reached for my chin the entire way. My daughter-in-law and her aunt were together talking about who knows what while I had a deep and personal conversation with my new best buddy.

"Okay, so there are some things that seem like they are subjective and that there are a number of answers that are equal and legitimate. That's a horrible lie, Lucinda. When you hear that, I want you to know that somebody is trying to BS you. Pay attention. This is important grandpa stuff. All right, the first one. What professional team is as evil as the Yankees? Some people are going to say the Cowboys. Others might say the Lakers. Reality? It's a false choice. There are no teams that are as evil as the Yankees.

"All right, number two. Who is better, David Lee Roth or Sammy Hagar? There are two answers. If you're just looking at it like that, the answer is absolutely, one-hundred percent Sammy Hagar. But who made Van Halen better? Roth. Van Hagar wasn't bad, don't get me wrong, but they just didn't have the testosterone of Van Halen with David Lee Roth. Sorry, it's the truth. All right, last reality drop from grandpa for tonight. Can Chili have beans? Damn skippy. Chili can have anything you want in it. If some Texan tries to tell you different, you find grandpa and I'll set them straight."

"You should write those down, Steve. The Accumulated Wisdom of the Pueblo Grandpa. It'll be a bestseller."

A little embarrassed, I looked up to see Liz watching me with a smile on her face. "This is top-secret grandpa-granddaughter information. I'm going to have to ask you to never mention this to anyone. Ever. Did you see her reach for me? I thought it was my chin, but I realized it was my nose."

"Yeah. Actually, it was between the two of them. If she was reaching for anything instead of just stretching, it was for that hole where that noise comes from. I doubt she knows you have a chin. At her age, she can't even focus her eyes."

Frowning, I leaned in close to Lucinda. "How silly is your aunt? She thinks you can't see your grandpa. Well, we will just keep that a secret. I know you can see me just fine."

Liz sat down and continued watching me and Lucinda as she spoke.

"What's going on with Shannon?"

She needs help. You and Marianne have been great, but she needs more, especially with Gus being gone."

She nodded. "Okay. We can figure that out. She needs help with the baby. We can get that done. Now tell me what else is going on."

I sighed, not sure if it was my place to talk about this, but if there was anyone who should know and who could understand, it would be Liz.

"Shannon's scared. She doesn't think that she's going to be good enough for Lucinda. She thinks that she is going to turn into Marianne. Did she ever, you know, see anyone? When she was a kid, I mean."

Liz nodded. "Yeah. When Ethan and Marianne were getting divorced, his mother took her. She kept going for a few years after the divorce. She hasn't been back in, I don't know, eight years? Nine? Ethan handled most of it. Can she go back to the same person or is it like a pediatrician, where they only treat children?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. Let's get everybody together tomorrow. I have a friend I can ask to stop by, and he would have some insight. In the meantime, maybe we can work out a schedule with everybody to get some coverage here."