If I Tell Part 23

"I can handle it. You have to take her. She needs to go. "

Upstairs Mom's bedroom door opened. Simon leaped to his feet as Mom shuffled down the hallway, peeked down the stairs, and then took a step toward us. Her hair was still dirty and messy, and she had on no makeup, but she'd put on an old pair of sweatpants and one of Simon's big T-s.h.i.+rts. Her face looked calmer, accepting of her fate.

"Jaz is great with the baby," she called out softly to Simon. "Better than I am."

"Mom," I said. "That's not true."

She took another step down. "I love him."

"I know," Simon said.

"No. I was talking to Jaz," she said softly.

"I know you love him," I said.

Her eyes watered. She wrapped her arms around herself. "You were right. I'm the worst mother in the world."

I remembered what I'd said to her at the restaurant. "Oh, Mom. You're not. I never meant that. I was just being awful, trying to hurt you. You're a good mom." I blushed. "You're sick. Go with Simon. I'll take care of the baby. It's okay. You need to get looked after too."

She grabbed the railing on the stairs and whimpered. "Everyone else always has to take care of my babies."

Simon bounded up the stairs, and when he reached her, she folded against him for support. He helped her down the stairs. Her pale, makeup-free face bothered me almost as much as her behavior. When they reached the bottom, she let go of Simon and tiptoed to the playpen.

"I'm sorry, baby," she whispered, stroking their son's fingers. "I love you. I do."

She wiped away her tears and struggled to gain control, and then she turned to me. "Joe," she said.

She glanced at Simon. He nodded.

"His name. Joseph Simon Peac.o.c.k. Joe for Grandpa."

I wiped under my eyes as she gave me instructions on the proper way to change diapers and how often to feed him. Simon wrapped a coat over her shoulders and moved her toward the front door.

"Look after Joe," he told me.

"I will."

My mom s.h.i.+vered, and he led her away and left me all alone. In charge of my baby brother's life.

chapter eighteen.

Simon walked through the front door hours later, waking me from a light sleep on the couch. He hurried to the playpen, bent down, and scooped up Joe, snuggling him close.

"Where's my mom?"

"I'll put him upstairs in his crib," Simon said. "And then we can talk about your mom."

"Leave him. I'll stay on the couch tonight. That way I can get up with him if he cries."

Simon shook his head. "No. That's not your job, Jaz. You've done so much already. I'm his dad. I get up with him. He'll sleep in his crib. I have a baby monitor."

I nodded, a little surprised. I'd kind of expected that he would let me be the one to look after Joe. Instead he was being totally responsible and dealing with things head-on.

"Is my mom okay?"

"She's been admitted. She's in good hands."

I bit my lip, waiting as Simon carried little Joe up the stairs to settle him in his room. A few minutes later, Simon returned carrying the baby monitor. He propped it on the coffee table and fell back on the couch, rubbing his eyes.

"They admitted her?" I asked again.

He nodded. "The doctors think it's severe postpartum depression. They're worried she might be suicidal. They're going to try to stabilize her with meds." He looked down at his hands. "They want to keep her in the psych ward for a few weeks."

I breathed out. "The psych ward? A few weeks?"

"It'll take a while for the medicine to start working, and they can monitor it there. She's terrified and she's horrified, but there's relief in her face too. You know? She's definitely not herself. She knows she needs help."

He stood up and looked around the room, and then he sat again, his face confused.

"She's embarra.s.sed to admit she has a mental illness." He made quote marks in the air with his fingers. "But, she's so bad right now that she's willing to do anything to get better. She's really scared. For the baby."

I picked at my nails but didn't respond.

"It's an illness. Like diabetes or something. They have to treat it. The doctor said we shouldn't be ashamed of her, of what's happening to her. We want to make sure she gets better."

He jumped to his feet again and wandered into the kitchen.

"I called your grandma. She came to the hospital. I made her meet with the doctor. She's trying to digest the fact that your mom has a real illness and isn't just looking for a way out." He grabbed a gla.s.s from the cupboard and went to the sink to pour himself water. "Your grandma's trying. I'll give her that."

"Grandma's been kind of tough on her."

Simon nodded. "I know, but she talked to some nurses and they gave her material to read. She wants you to stay here tonight since it's late and to call her in the morning." He paused. "They gave your mom something to make her sleep. She hasn't slept in days." He blinked, dazed. "She needs sleep. No wonder she's so messed up. She hasn't slept."

He chugged back the water in one gulp.

"The doctor said it's part of the illness. Insomnia. He said it's all a part of it. The panic, feeling like she can't cope or can't handle the baby."

He put his gla.s.s on the counter. "They told me she'll get better, Jaz. She will get better."

"I looked it up on the Internet when you were gone." I'd googled her symptoms and was led straight to a page on postpartum depression.

I sighed. "I'm glad you took her to the hospital. Thanks."

"I should have known earlier. Man, I should have helped more when Joe was in the hospital," Simon said. "I thought she was doing okay. I should have known." He plunked down on the love seat opposite the couch. "I should have taken her in sooner."

He cradled his head in his hands.

My heart opened to him a little. "None of us knew. Grandma hasn't been helping much either. Or me." I hung my head. "I haven't been around. I've been kind of avoiding her."

Simon exhaled. "You're a good kid. This is a lot for you to handle."

I studied my nails again. He didn't know the whole truth of everything I'd been handling. His secret too. Him and Lacey.

"We're going to get her through this," Simon said, his voice choked with emotion and conviction. "She's going to be okay. She'll be okay."

He seemed so genuine. A tear slipped from my eyes and trailed wetly down my cheek. "Simon." I held my breath. "Do you love my mom?"

"What?" He glanced up. "Of course I do. She's the most important thing in the world to me. Her and Joe."

I studied the dark, rich color of his skin. He seemed so distraught. And sincere.

"And you too, kid. You're part of this too," he added.

I bit my lip and reached for my guitar charm. I'd hit him, and he'd kept it quiet. Probably to protect me. I needed to know if he meant it. If he'd be there for the long run. My mom was really sick, and I needed to know if he would be there. I took a deep breath and dropped my eyes.

"I won't ever tell her about what happened."

Simon stared at me, confused.

"About Lacey," I whispered. My heart pounded a melody of panic. "I know."

Simon's features froze. He sat up straighter. "What about Lacey?"

"I saw you," I said quietly. "At Marnie's. With Lacey."

Simon's forehead wrinkled. His brows creased together, but he stayed perfectly still, breathing in and out. I held my breath, waiting for him to deny it. To make an excuse.

Then he melted. His entire body drooped as if his bones had liquefied. His eyes glistened. He groaned and dropped his head.

"Oh, G.o.d. You saw me kissing her. Oh. G.o.d. No wonder. No wonder." His body shook as he fought back tears, swallowing and gasping for air.

He looked up at me, his brown eyes drenched with sadness and regret. "No wonder you belted me that day. Man. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I didn't. I honestly thought you hated me because of your dad leaving. I didn't realize it was because of me."

Tears dripped down my cheeks.

He scratched at his head with both hands. "It was stupid, Jaz. So incredibly stupid. I would never fool around on your mom. That's something I promised myself when I was a kid. Not after the way my dad acted. I don't know how it happened. I was so drunk, and all of a sudden we were kissing, and then when I realized what the h.e.l.l I was doing, I got out of there as fast as I could. I had no idea you saw."

I stared at him. "You got out of there?"

He rubbed his head and looked sick to his stomach.

"You didn't sleep with her?"

He did a double take. His face looked sincerely shocked.

"Sleep with her?"

He didn't. He wasn't lying. Why hadn't Lacey told me? I racked my brain, thinking about our conversations. I'd never come right out and asked her, and she probably didn't remember anyhow. Lacey's drinking was so bad she had blackouts all the time.

"I'm a jerk, but not that big of a jerk." Then he shook his head. "G.o.d. I never wanted to hurt your mom. Or you. You've got to know that. I was just freaked out when I found out she was pregnant, and I got stupidly drunk. Oh, man. I'm so sorry, Jaz. Your stupid friend of all people. I'm such a f.u.c.king idiot."

He clamped his hand over his mouth and his eyes widened.

"Your mom would kill me if she knew I just said 'f.u.c.k' in front of you."

We stared at each other for a second, both of us with eyes wide. The absurdity hit me first. I started to giggle and couldn't stop. Almost hysterically. Simon joined in, and for a moment we howled like lunatics. Tears streamed down both of our faces. The last thing my mom would be worried about right now was Simon swearing.

Simon wiped his eyes first, fighting for composure. He swallowed. The laughter disappeared.

"Now I understand why you've been so p.i.s.sed with me. At McDonald's..." He swallowed and scratched at his head again. "I was going to tell your mom what I did, but she was so moody and down when she was pregnant, and then the baby came early and then..." He grabbed his head with both hands. "I didn't know what to do."

I held my breath. I didn't forgive him. Not completely. Not yet. He had some proving to do. But for now, he was here. Remorseful. Mom needed him, and maybe I did too.

And so I made the decision. For my mom. She couldn't do it herself. I had to think of her health and her baby. My brother. "Don't tell her," I said quietly.

Simon closed his eyes. "I have to."

"No," I said firmly. "You don't. The best thing right now is to forget it ever happened. Especially now. She's sick. The most important thing is to help her get better."

Simon didn't answer for a moment. "I didn't mean to involve you," he said, scratching at his head.

"Well, you did."

He looked up, and in his eyes, I saw his regret. His shame.

"I know," he said.

"It's done. So now do me a favor and don't tell her," I repeated.

He hung his head again, speaking to the carpet. "It was a horrible mistake, Jaz. I love your mom. I love our baby. I'll do anything to protect them. Anything. Nothing like that will ever happen again."

I stared at him, thoughts running through my head, and swallowed a lump. "Good."

The baby monitor crackled, and Joe began to chortle and cough.

We both shot to our feet.

"Sit." Simon smiled, a sad, tired effort. He started toward the stairs. "I've got him."

I bit my lip, holding in tears. "You're here to stay?"