going back into that situation. Not after the holidays, not ever, if he had his way. “Get out, Shelly. Get out of White Elk.” With that, he brushed around her and went straight back to the exam room where Tyler was sitting. And shut the door. Shelly wouldn’t come back, wouldn’t say goodbye to her son. He knew that from history.
So did Tyler.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Galbraith, but I just can’t do it. He wore me out chasing after him, and it’s only been half a day. He’s too…destructive, and I simply can’t have him in my house.” As proof, Mrs. Prestwick held up the headless porcelain figurine Tyler had broken. That, and the lamp for which James had already compensated her. “I hate to give you such sort notice, but you can’t bring Tyler back here.” Emphatic words. The same words he’d heard from Mrs. Powers and Grandma Addy…the three most highly recommended care-givers in White Elk. Three days, three bridges burned, and James was at his wit’s end now. He had to work, had to take care of Tyler and, at this moment those two parts of his life were clashing in a big way. “I don’t suppose you could recommend anyone else, could you?” he asked the gray-haired septuagenarian.
She shook her head, backing away from her front door as hastily as she could, practically shutting the door in James’s face. He looked down at Tyler, who seemed preoccupied by the snowflakes falling on the evergreen bushes. “I thought you were going to behave,” he said, trying to be patient. “We talked about it the last time you stayed with me and we talked about it just this morning. Remember? Remember how you promised me that you would be good?” For Mrs. Powers it had been about a dozen raw eggs and a pound of ground coffee, all stirred into a nice little cake in the middle of her kitchen floor…a floor that had enough slope that it had facilitated the slithering of that mess to a spot underneath the refrigerator, which had required James to move the fridge and do the cleaning. For Grandma Addy it had involved the hiding of her hearing aid in the trash can just before the trash had been tossed out. Luckily, Grandma Addy had a spare, but James was going to have to take time off work to take her to Salt Lake City and get fitted for another.
“Tell me, Tyler, why did you break Mrs. Prestwick’s things?” He wanted to understand him. Wanted to get to know him and find out why he did what he did, but so far Tyler had resisted pretty much every effort James had made, just like the two previous times when James had taken care of him.
Tyler shrugged, still more interested in the snowflakes.
James huffed out the impatient sigh he’d tried holding in. Three days, and he was all out of ideas. Yet he couldn’t get angry with Tyler. In spite of everything, he loved his son and didn’t blame him for the bad behavior. It was a reaction to his life, to the way he’d been tossed around. Sadly, as hard as James tried to be responsive to Tyler, the boy always pulled away from him. First time, second time and this time. Nothing about that had changed. Nothing about the fact that he’d missed the first years of Tyler’s life would change and he wondered if he’d known about Tyler all that time, if he’d had a hand in raising him, in being his dad, whether Tyler would be so destructive now. Things to wonder about, but things he’d never know since Shelly hadn’t told him about Tyler until her husband had forced her into it. “Well, for now you’re going to have to come back to work with me.” And do what? James didn’t have a clue. Not a single, solitary clue. “Look, Tyler, I don’t know what it is you’ve got against these women, but we need to make arrangements for you while I’m at work.” He held out his hand to Tyler, but Tyler reflexively shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
James could have pushed the issue, insisted Tyler take his hand, physically demanded it, but what good would that do? Upsetting a five-year-old that way didn’t prove a thing and somehow James had the idea that the things Tyler needed proved to him were profound and deep. “What I need from you is some co-operation. I know you don’t like being here, that none of this was your idea, but right now we’ve got to make the best of it. Figure out what’s going to make you happy…” He glanced out to the road in time to see Fallon drive by. She was headed in the direction of home, and as he watched her car wind its way down the road, the longing hit hard.
He wondered again whether he could have handled things differently after her accident. She’d needed him and he’d clearly been divided. Her needs, Tyler’s needs, adjusting to fatherhood…yet he’d always thought that he could get through it and give everybody what they required. Clearly, he’d been wrong and even now, while he didn’t know what it was, he was convinced Fallon had needed something he hadn’t been able to give her. The hell of it was, he hadn’t even realized it at the time. It was all afterthought, and filled with so many unanswered questions. But he’d been desperate back then, doing his best. Yet Fallon had insisted she understood his absences, his distractions, his moods—in short, that she was OK without him. He’d believed her, too. Trusted her. After all, Fallon was a strong woman, even with her injuries. She was a fighter, and that was something else he trusted.
But maybe he’d taken that strength too for granted, the way people in White Elk had taken her competence for granted. Maybe the brave face she’d always put on for him hadn’t been so brave. And he’d never realized it. Never once questioned it.
Then the morning Shelly had taken Tyler away from him, he’d gone to Fallon’s hospital room to apologize for not being there for her as much as he’d wanted. But the room had been empty, the bed stripped of its linens. There had been nothing to suggest she’d ever been there. The nurses had told him she’d gone to a rehabilitation hospital, without telling anyone which one. Or, if they knew, their loyalty to Fallon had kept them from revealing it.
Could he have done things differently? Probably. Would it have made a difference to his relationship with Fallon? That, he didn’t know.
“There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said, glancing down at Tyler then back at Fallon’s car, which was turning onto a side street. He loved Fallon, and he loved Tyler. It was time to set at least one of his mistakes right. “Look, Tyler, we’re going to make a quick stop before we go to the hospital, and I need you to be on your very best behavior. Do you think you can do that for me?”
Naturally, Tyler didn’t respond. All he did was follow James to the car, and crawl into the back seat after James opened the door for him. Dutifully, the little boy fastened his seat belt then he sat there like a perfect little gentleman, hands folded in his lap, staring out the window.
For a moment James studied Tyler in the rear-view mirror once he’d settled himself into the driver’s seat, wondering what went on in the child’s mind. Wondering what he could do to find out.
Wondering what he could do to make Tyler accept him as his father.
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