Godmother

aroline Holmes spent the entire morning dreading the doorbell. For two solid hours she had been furiously dusting and vacuuming a home that had needed neither dusting nor vacuuming. But she had wanted today to go smoothly, and her house sparkled for the occasion as if it were about to receive the editor of Good Housekeeping Magazine instead of a child of thirteen.

As Kevin sat quietly on the couch reading a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic book, Caroline looked over at her son to see if she could read any change in his usual carefree disposition. A child's ability to adjust could be uncanny, she thought. Less than six months ago his father had packed his bags, and although Kevin had sulked for a week, he didn't miss basketball practice either. Now he sat there reading his comic book when in less than an hour his 'only child' status in this house would be ending. If adults could figure out their kids' secrets of resiliency the entire psychiatric profession might have to go out and find real work.

Caroline had not yet adjusted to the word. Godparent. That was the legal term for her relationship to her sister's son, although she might have laughed herself sick at the misnomer. Since David had left she hardly felt like a parent to her own son. Last fall she had stepped onto the basketball court in the back yard with the offer to play a little one-on-one with Kevin, and fifteen minutes later she was complaining about the nail she had broken. That faux pax had forever branded her in Kevin's eyes as a stranger in a strange land when it came to her understanding of sports.

Godparent. What kind of god suffered from nervous exhaustion?

"How're we holding up, Sport?" she asked, trying to appear casual. She snapped off the vacuum and walked over to Kevin. "Anything you want to share with the old lady before Cousin Eddie gets here?"

Kevin did not look up from the comic book. If he were not totally absorbed in those pizza-eating turtles, then he was giving one fine Academy Award winning performance. Suddenly he raised his fist triumphantly in the air and shouted "Kowabonga, Dude!"

Caroline half smiled. "Thanks for sharing that." She sat on the couch next to Kevin and mussed his hair, readying herself for the opposition she expected with her next suggestion. But she wanted this first day of Eddie's stay to be perfect, so she took her shot. "You know, it might be a good idea to put on that new shirt I bought you. The torn ninja turtle tee shirt look is no longer 'in'. How about a nice, clean 'Batman'? You want your cousin to think I raised a slob?"

"Aw, Mom . . ." Kevin complained right on cue as he put down the comic book. "It's only Eddie. It's no big deal. You'd think the President was coming over instead of some dorky kid!"

"One 'dorky kid' in this house is enough,wise guy," Caroline said, hoping her tone had been flip enough to conceal the turmoil she was feeling inside. "Anyway, the issue is not open to debate. And put a band-aid on that elbow. That scab still looks kind of medium rare to me." She patted him on his behind as he slid off the couch.

". . . just a dorky kid . . ." Kevin muttered under his breath as he thumped up the stairs.

Caroline sighed, knowing how easily a thirteen year old's assessment of what was dorky could change. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a well-deserved cup of coffee, extra strong and black. Until she raised the cup to her lips she had not realized that she was smiling. She had not really smiled in weeks. She lightly touched her face as if to confirm that the smile was really there.

Caroline carried the cup back into the living room and headed toward the stereo. A little Streisand would go nicely right about now, she thought as she removed the CD from its jewel box and set it into the Panasonic. She propped her legs up on the couch and lay her head back upon the soft velvet cushion, preparing to let La Streisand take her away to a place she had not visited for over a month. She closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her as Barbra sang about misty water colored memories.

A gauze dropped over her vision, clouding it, but even with her eyes shut Caroline could feel the memories stir inside her, memories that slept but had not died . . .

. . . memories of the call that had come at 2:30 a.m. last September 15, the one that had awakened her from such a sound sleep that for a moment she had reached over to ask David to pick up the phone, as if he were still there.

. . . memories of the unfamiliar and abrupt voice that had apologized for the lateness of the hour, asked if she were Caroline Holmes and did she have a sister Sandra who lived at 34 Crescent Court.

. . . of the drive through the rain to the emergency ward of Saint Mary's Hospital, the same misty rain that had caused Sandra's husband Steve to steer his new BMW straight into the path of an on-coming eight-wheeler . . .

She hit the STOP button of the CD player. Streissand was right. Some memoriies were too painful to remember.

Caroline reached for her coffee with a shaking hand. Maybe the time for smiling and relaxation were meant for another day after all.

How can I be a mother to a child who has never even spent a single night in our house? How will Kevin handle all this when there's no comic book to hide behind? How do things like this happen to children? And to women who haven't even got their own lives together?

The doorbell rang, causing Caroline to spill hot coffee onto her hand. She winced in a combination of physical pain and embarrassment at the impression she was about to make. She ran for a towel, called out to Kevin to come downstairs, and raced for the door still wiping her hand. As she opened the door she noticed a cab waiting at the curb.

"Hello-" she said to the thin, smartly dressed woman standing with Eddie, as she offered the hand to her that still held the towel. "Oh --Sorry," she said, stuffing the towel into her pocket. "Things have been a little hectic around here today. I'm Caroline Holmes. Come in. Please."

So much for first impressions.

"Hello, " the woman answered awkwardly. "I'm Gwen Reynolds, Eddie's friend Mark's mother? I believe we talked on the phone?" She didn't attempt to remove her coat, and Caroline thought it best not to ask her.

"My husband and I have been looking after Eddie . . . Well, you know all that. Anyway, we were both so sorry to hear . . ." She clutched at the fur lining around her collar as her words trailed off.

"Thank you," Caroline said, keeping the formalities to a minimum.

Eddie had not let go of Mrs. Reynolds' hand and this wasn't a good sign. Caroline kneeled before him, but he would not look at her. She spoke to him as he watched the ground around Mrs. Reynolds' feet.

"Eddie, we've been looking so much forward to seeing you again, Kevin and I. We're going to get along just fine, you'll see. You're going to like it here." She knew her words sounded absurd, something she had been supposed to say,and a bright child like Eddie would have no trouble seeing through them. She considered kissing him on the cheek, but Eddie didn't seem ready for that. "Why don't you go over and say hello to Kevin, okay?" The words sounded more like a concession than a suggestion.

Caroline had to pry his hand away from Mrs. Reynolds.

Eddie finally mumbled "'kay," and walked over to Kevin.

Kevin had not moved from the bottom of the stairwell. Caroline turned to watch Eddie take what looked like the longest walk of his life. She turned back to Mrs. Reynolds while trying to hear what Kevin and Eddie were saying behind her.

"Well, thanks again. You have no idea how difficult these past few weeks have been. Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay to have some coffee?" Caroline knew the question had been a weak formality. Mrs. Reynolds returned to her cab in less than two minutes.

When Caroline returned to the two boys, they had already decided to shoot some baskets in the back yard. That seemed like the best idea of the day. As they headed for the back yard she called out to them, "Hey! Change your clothes before you go out there!" It took her an instant to realize that she had directed this demand only to Kevin, and he shot a bewildered look at her. (God! The shirt! I insisted he put on the new shirt!)

"You too, Eddie. Okay?" she quickly added, shrugging her shoulders as if to inform him that his mother hadn't really lost her mind.

Ten minutes later Caroline heard the boys playing in the back yard. She walked over to the kitchen's bay window to watch, unable to hear what anyone was saying, beyond "Here! Over here!" Lured by the sound of the dribbling ball six of Kevin's friends had joined them. She watched Eddie closely as he blocked Richie Randall's shot and headed toward the basket. The sound of that basketball hitting the concrete beat Streisand by a mile.

Eddie had a clear shot and seemed about to take it when Kevin suddenly crashed into him from behind. Caroline wasn't certain what was going on, she wasn't even certain whose team each boy was on. But Kevin seemed upset with his cousin, enough to shove him to the ground. Eddie got up and shoved him back, shouting words at him that Caroline couldn't quite make out. She was about to yell for Kevin to come inside, but before she could he looked up at her in the window.

Their eyes met for an instant, then locked onto each other. Without his saying a word, Caroline knew her son was asking her to choose whose side she was on.

Kevin's scab had come off during his skirmish with Eddie, and Caroline had to smear iodine on his wound. At thirteen, Kevin had not quite mastered stoicism and screamed like a banshee. Eddie had mumbled something about it not having been his fault, that Kevin had started it by crashing into him. He stayed in his room until dinner.

Dinner became an exercise in sustained silence. Kevin and Eddie mimed death threats at one another so that by dessert it seemed to Caroline that a full-scale war might erupt the minute she left them alone. By bed-time the moment of truth had come.

Caroline knocked on each boy's bedroom door. "My room! . . Three minutes! Wear your best pajamas!" she announced from the hallway. She sat in her bed with absolutely no idea of what she might say to them.

Kevin entered first wearing his favorite over-sized Flyer's tee-shirt. He walked straight to her bed without saying a word and sat at the far end of it near his mother's feet.

Eddie knocked, came in, and stood by the door. Caroline smiled weakly at him, and he approached the bed from the opposite side from where Kevin sat.

"Okay," Caroline said. "Here's the deal. I talk, and you guys listen." Kevin nodded his agreement only when he saw that Eddie had done so. "Listen. I know it doesn't feel like it just yet, but we're a family now. You two are going to be living together, kind of like brothers. Kevin, you always used to tell me how much you wanted a brother, remember?"

"I didn't want one who was a dor--" Caroline shot him a glance.

"A family . Eddie, I know what you've been through in the past month. I know how much you miss your mother, because I miss her too. I miss her a lot." Caroline took Eddie's hand, then reached over for Kevin's. "But we've still got each other, you know? We still can be a fam-"

"We're not a family!" Eddie screamed, yanking his hand away with such force that Caroline flinched. "We don't have each other! I had parents. Now I don't! People die , Aunt Caroline, and people lose each other. Just like you lost Uncle Dave. Just like I lost my mom and dad. People die, or they go away. My friend Mark's mother gave me this speech last night, and where is she now ? People don't always have each other! Maybe you and Kevin have each other. He's your son. But I'm not, and I never will be!" Eddie turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

Caroline struggled for the composure she lost the moment Eddie had gone. Her attempt to smile seemed to hasten her tears but she blinked them back, hoping Kevin hadn't noticed. She felt exposed, as if Eddie had ripped off a mask she had worn all day and returned to his room with it. Kevin still held her hand as he sat beside her on the bed staring hard at her. She sniffed hard twice and blew her nose.

She looked down at Kevin and shrugged.

"Kowabonga, Dude," she whispered to him.

Godmother, she thought again. What a joke.

Eddie's bedroom door slammed shut. Caroline waited a moment before she turned out the light, and wrapped her arms tightly around Kevin. He curled up next to her and went to sleep within minutes, but Caroline could not sleep.

She held her son in her arms until the morning .

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