Mad About You

midmorning heat, she walked down the steps and knelt to weed her front mulch beds. If she kept her hands busy, she might not dwell on her impetuous behavior where Bailey was concerned. What a mess she'd made of things. For now it felt good to be able to tidy up some small part of her life. She tore at the wild plants, ripping them out by the roots. When she finished, she tossed the weeds into her garbage can, then wheeled it to the curb.
    On the way back inside, she checked the black metal mailbox beside her door, then sifted through the mail as she slipped off her shoes inside the entryway. Two official-looking envelopes caught her eye, one addressed to Chad, the other addressed to "Guardian of." After tearing the flap of the second envelope with her thumbnail, she withdrew a short letter informing Chad Green, also known as Bailey Kallihan, Jr., along with a parent or legal guardian to appear in juvenile court in two weeks. She assumed the other letter was a duplicate, so she walked upstairs to leave it on his desk.
    She opened his bedroom door and placed the letter where he'd find it. As she turned to go, she saw the small packing carton of Chad's pictures shoved under his desk. Virginia stared at the box for a full minute, torn. Then she slowly bent over to slide it across the carpet, and sat down cross-legged. With a deep breath she opened the lid.
    The odor of old paper enveloped her. On top of the pictures lay the broken pieces of the beloved Nintendo game. She carefully set them aside to thumb through the curled photos. Some of the older pictures were Lois Green as a little girl. She had not been a happy child, nor had her parents, from their dour expressions.
    Each time Virginia found a photo with Chad in it, she laid it aside to assemble some kind of chronological order. After an hour she had exhausted the pile, and Chad's childhood lay spread before her. She then lovingly scrutinized each photo, at long last experiencing his first step, his first Christmas, his first tricycle, his first day of school. The abundance of photos made it clear that Lois was a doting mother, and for a few quiet seconds Ginny looked heavenward, closed her eyes, and gave thanks to the woman for at least preserving these precious moments.
    From the gap in pictures she estimated the time when Lois began to get sick. Suddenly Chad was nearly his present age, and all his poses with Lois were from her bed, where successive photos chronicled her deterioration. One photo in particular caught her eye because in it Lois was smiling especially wide, her thin arm around Chad and his arm around her. It couldn't have been long before she died—the developing paper was new and slick.
    She fingered the photo, an idea blooming.
    She went to a crafts store and bought a shadow box, then she spent an hour gluing the Nintendo device back together—it would never work again, but she made it look passably good. With adhesive she mounted the game console and other mementos Lois had saved—photos, amusement park tickets, school programs, and Chad’s artwork—inside the shadow box in an artful composition. She set it in her bedroom to dry, suddenly more happy than she'd felt in days.
    The phone rang. When she saw Bailey’s name on the display, she let it roll to voice mail, then listened to the message he left.
    "Ginny, hi, it's Bailey. I wanted to tell Chad goodbye before he left, but things have been crazy here at the office—God, I never thought I'd hear myself say that." His laugh was short and dry, then his voice grew softer. "I need to talk to you—I'd like to come over. I hope you'll let me explain about Sunday. I'm sorry... I should have talked to you before I said anything to Chad. As usual, I only made things worse. I'll be here until around six-thirty." He rattled off the number. "Please call me."
    Virginia felt remarkably calm listening to his words. She suspected that her humiliation and anger had simply yielded to numbness. She'd always had a blind spot where Bailey Kallihan was concerned, but now she had a higher priority—her son.
    For Chad's sake, she would develop and maintain a cordial relationship with Bailey, even if it killed her... or broke her heart. If she were going to give up her son to him, she would at least keep a little of herself. And just like that, the decision was made... the decision she had feared from the very beginning.
    She would allow Chad to live with Bailey.
    She would learn to be satisfied with