Early Spring 01 Broken Flower Page 4

  He was in a white shirt opened at the collar and a pair of dark blue jeans with his light blue boat shoe loafers and no socks. Even though he was supposedly indoors most of the time, he had what Grandmother Emma called a Palm Beach tan. When she asked him about it, he confessed to going to a tanning salon regularly. On his right wrist, he wore a thick gold bracelet and on his left, his Rolex watch, a watch that had belonged to his father.

  There was never a question in my mind that Daddy was one of the handsomest men in the whole city. He had Ian's black eyes and wavy dark brown hair he wore a little too long in the back and sides for Grandmother Emma's liking, but unlike her or even Mama for that matter, he did not care to dress appropriately and look his age. He liked it when people told him that although he was fortv-two, he could easily pass for a man in his late twenties.

  "You'd better come in, close the door, and sit, Christopher," Mama told him, and nodded at the small settee across from us.

  He smirked, closed the door, looked at the settee, and then with an expression of annoyance, glanced at Mama before sitting. He sat back, his right arm over the back of the settee, his left arm at his side. Both my parents sitting in my Tiny Tot children's furniture looked funny to me. It was rare to have them in my room simultaneously. I couldn't help but smile, which he thought was confusing.

  "What is it, already?" he asked.

  "Recently. I noticed some dramatic changes in Jordan," Mama began.

  Daddy's eyebrows rose and closed toward each other. "Changes?"

  "In her body. Changes that have come too soon."

  "Like what?"

  Mama leaned over and unbuttoned my blouse. Daddy gaped. "As you can see, she's developing breasts."

  He sat back, his mouth slightly open. "Is that bad?" he asked. "My God, Christopher."

  "Well, I don't know about female development, for God sakes."

  "It's not only this," she said, closing my blouse. "She has pubic hair, and now," Mama said,

  swallowing back and holding in her tears, "she has had her first period."

  "What? You're out of your mind. The kid's not even seven years old. I know that much at least.'

  "You're right. It's not normal. That's why I'm taking her to see Dell'Acqua tomorrow," Mama said.

  Daddy was quiet. Then he brought his arm off the back of the settee and leaned forward.

  "Does my mother know about any of this?" he asked in a loud whisper, as if Grandmother Emma kept her ears to the walls or Nancy had been sent up to do so.

  "No, no one knows but us. I'd rather it be kept that way for as long as possible, Christopher."

  "Of course," he said, and sat back again. "That's very wise. Well, what does Dr. Dell'Acqua think about all this?" he asked, waving his hand at me as though I were a pile of trouble.

  "She wasn't overly concerned about her beginning breast development and pubic hair growth, but when I told her she had experienced menarche--''

  "Men what?"

  "Her first period. When she heard that, she was convinced Jordan is experiencing what is known as precocious puberty."

  "Which means what?"

  Mama looked at me, obviously deciding how much more to say in my presence.

  "She's becoming a woman too early, too quickly."

  "You mean, a kid this young could have a baby!" he exclaimed, raising his voice.

  My eyes nearly rolled out of my head. I turned to my mother, anxious to hear her answer.

  "Let's not get into any of that just yet, Christopher. Physically, Dr. Dell'Acqua's afraid of her having an accelerated growth spurt that rill cause her bones to stop growing and result in her being a stunted adult."

  Daddy grimaced as if he had bit into a rotten apple. "You mean she'll become a dwarf?"

  Mama looked at me again to see my reaction to Daddy's responses. "You're not helping the situation with this sort of reaction, Christopher."

  "Well, what's she want to do?"

  "Dr. Dell'Acqua wants to begin with blood tests. She also wants her to have a cerebral CAT scan. There are different types of precocious puberty and we have to determine which she has, what's causing it, and then treat it."

  I'll never forget the expression on Daddy's face when he looked at me then. Ere made me feel as if he thought I was a freak. The distaste and disgust in his fact brought tears to my eyes. I felt as if I couldn't breathe.

  "Regardless," Mama continued, maintaining her firm demeanor and control, "she is going to have great psychological and emotional difficulty and we'll have to give her all the support and care we can. She might even need professional therapy."

  "Therapy! A seven-year-old kid?"

  "With divorces and other marital problems these days, that's not as unusual as you might think, Christopher. In any case, that's what Dr. Dell'Acqua told me even before she has looked at her. Jordan will have difficulty adjusting to the changes and the impact they have on her mentally. Besides," she said with a deep sigh, "'her body is beyond a seven-yearold's so you have to stop thinking in terms of her age."

  "Stop thinking in terms of her age? That's weird. This is horrible," Daddy said.

  My lips trembled and I let out a small moan.

  "You're scaring her, Christopher," Mama said, glancing at me and then putting her arm around my shoulders.

  He looked away and then turned back quickly. "Anything like this ever happen to anyone else in your family?"

  "Not that I know of, Christopher. Why does that matter now anyway?"

  "Was it something that you might have done wrong when you were pregnant with her?" he followed without a blink.

  Mama looked at me quickly and then back at him. "Don't be ridiculous, Christopher. I was under Dr. Dell'Acqua's care with her. Why are you trying to fix blame on me or my side of the family? Are you already worrying about what your mother's going to say or do?"

  At the mention of Grandmother Emma, Daddy's eyes widened. "Look," he replied instead of answering her question, "I think you're right to keep this all secret. I agree. No one has to low beside the doctor for as long as possible, especially my mother. Somehow, she'll find a way to blame it on me. I know her."

  "Her appointment is at eleven tomorrow. I'm picking her up at school," Mama said, ignoring his self-pity.

  "Eleven?" He thought a moment and shook his head. "I can't be there at eleven. I have an important meeting."

  "It can't be more important than your own daughter's well-being and health, Christopher. Christopher!" she said sharply when he didn't reply.

  "Okay, okay. I'll work it out," he said, and rose to his feet. He glared down at the two of us. "You should have done something when you first noticed, maybe. Maybe you could have nipped it in the bud."

  "You're going to have to stop doing this, Christopher."

  "Stop doing what?"

  "You're going to have to stop shifting responsibility and blame onto me for everything that displeases you and your mother."

  "Yeah, right," Daddy said. He turned and left the room so quickly. I felt a breeze in his wake.

  I saw my mother fighting hard to keep her tears in check, but she couldn't win that battle. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath, and then hugged me to her.

  "You'll be all right, honey," she said. "Just be brave when we go to see the doctor."

  I really did like Dr. Dell'Acqua. She was always very nice to me, but my mother warned me that one of the things she would do to me would be to stick a needle in my arm to take blood. I had a difficult time falling asleep that night thinking about it. She came into my room twice to reassure me.

  All my friends were curious about why I was being taken out of school the next to last day of the school year. Why couldn't anything I needed to do have waited? My mother told me to say it was a dental appointment that couldn't be broken, if I were asked. I was never a good liar. My lips always trembled and I could never look anyone in the face. I had to look down or away, but my mother was so worried about strangers finding out about me. I had to do the
best I could.

  When we arrived at Dr. Dell'Acqua's office, Mama was immediately upset because Daddy wasn't there waiting, as he had promised. While we waited to ao in to see Dr. Dell'Acqua, the receptionist received a phone call from Daddy, who told her to tell us he was just unavoidably delayed at the market. He would a et to the doctor's office as soon as he could.

  My mother said nothing. She didn't even thank the receptionist. She just stood there staring at her until the phone rang again and the receptionist had to take the call. Daddy didn't arrive before we were called to go into the examination room. Soon after, Dr. Dell'Acqua entered wearing her long lab robe and her stethoscope. Her nurse accompanied her.

  "Now, what do we have here?' she asked. It was always what she said when she saw either me or Ian at her office. Once Ian replied, "That's what we're here to find out." After that, Dr. Dell'Acqua never said it to him again.

  "How long has it been since I've seen her?" she asked my mother.

  "About eight months. I think."

  I was sitting on the examination table. She had me stand up, shook her head, and said. "She's sprouted.'

  "I didn't really take much note of it until this happened, but she's only an inch or so shorter than Ian already."

  The doctor's face tightened with concern. "Very common with this condition, Carol. As I told you, bone maturity is hastened, but closure also occurs prematurely, creating a stunted stature."

  "Oh. God," my mother muttered. Hearing it again in person was more overwhelming, both for her and for me. I fought back my own tears.

  "Let's look her over and get going on this quickly," she said.

  "You'll have to get undressed, honey," my mother told me, and began to help me take off my clothes.

  Although my mother had continually reassured me that I was not sick and dying and did not have some horrible disease, Dr. DellAcqua's eves betrayed a different opinion. She stopped smiling and looked very concerned and serious.

  She then did something she had never done before. She looked between my legs. Both my mother and her nurse watched and waited. When she looked up, she shook her head.

  "Her vagina is estrogenized," she said, and my mother smothered a cry.

  "What do we do?" she asked.

  "We'll check her blood and as I told you on the phone. Carol, do a cerebral CAT scan. We have to rule out a tumor," she said. I was sure she was unafraid about talking in front of me because she assumed I didn't understand any of it, but I knew what a tumor was.

  Ian had once had a hamster that had developed a tumor. He didn't tell anyone because he was interested in how big it would eventually become and what it would do to his hamster. Whatever it was, it killed his hamster. Before Ian told anyone, he cut open the tumor and put it under his microscope. Then he buried his hamster, again without telling anyone it had died. It was weeks before Mama noticed it was gone.

  Dell'Acqua wrote out an order for the CAT scan and then went to the phone to have her receptionist make an appointment for us at the clinic where it would be done. Mama sat with her hands clenched in her lap as if that was the only way she could hold herself together. Every once in a while, she looked at the wall clock and then at the door.

  All the while we were there. Daddy had not appeared, and even when we left the examination room, he was still not there. I could see my mother was struggling to keep her tears locked up and her anger chained as well. She squeezed my hand hard as she led me out of the doctor's office and to our car, but I didn't complain. Dr. Dell'Acqua had somehow gotten us an immediate appointment so we were on our way there.

  "Am I going to die, Mama?" I asked as we got into her car.

  She took her hand off the ignition key and turned to me. "No, Jordan. It's not a fatal disease. It's just...just..."

  "Just what, Mama?"

  "Just damn unfair!" she cried, and hugged me to her.

  Then she started the car and we were on our way, both staring ahead with tear streaks carved all over our cheeks and me wondering what terrible thing I had done during my short lifetime to deserve this fate.

  4 A Brother You Can Trust

  . After we left Dr. Dell'Acqua's parking lot. Mama called Daddy on her cell phone. It took him so long to come on after his secretary answered, we were almost at the X-ray clinic.

  "How could you not be there, Christopher? How could you leave this all on my shoulders?" she nearly screamed into the phone. Whatever Daddy told her didn't satisfy her. "We're almost at the X-ray clinic. That's right. I told you we would have to have the CAT scan. Too bad there isn't an X-ray machine to see if someone has a conscience," she said, and then she closed her phone and hung up on him without saying good-bye.

  She had tears in her eyes again, but they were tears of anger, not of sadness.

  "Ifs all right, honey," she said, reaching for my hand to squeeze. "We'll get all this done ourselves. As usual," she added.

  Everyone was nice to me at the X-ray clinic. Nothing hurt but it was still scary to me. When it was all over, we went directly home. Daddy hadn't come to the clinic either, but Mama didn't call him again or even mention it to me. Grandmother Emma was out at one of her charity luncheons when we arrived, but Ian was home from school and in his room watching a documentary about spiders. I thought he hadn't heard us come home and didn't know anything about where we had gone, but not long after I was in my room, he came to my door. I thought he might be coming to show me one of his spiders and tease me, but he brought nothing.

  "I know you went to see Dr. Dell'Acqua," he said.

  I was just tinkering with my dollhouse, not really concentrating on it. I was still thinking about all that had been done to me. I didn't answer him and he came into my room and stood beside me.

  "I overheard Mother call her and make your appointment. She didn't know I heard her, but I did. What's wrong with you?" he asked. "Is it catching?"

  I shrugged. Was it? I wondered. Could one of the other girls in school have given me this?

  "Well, what's wrong with you?"

  What was I supposed to say? Mama didn't want me to tell anyone, but we had told Daddy. Did that prohibition still include Ian now? And even if it didn't, did I want to share a secret like this with him? I had no doubt that he could keep it secret even better than I could and I had no fear that he would tell

  Grandmother Emma.

  With Mama off in her room probably lying down with a warm washcloth over her eyes, and Daddy not even coming to the doctor's office. I felt alone and frightened. Having a secret wasn't so wonderful, especially this one.

  "Mama doesn't want me to tell anyone. She doesn't want Grandmother Emma to find out," I told him.

  That was obviously the wrong thing to say. It only made him more interested, but I liked having him interested in me. I could count on my fingers how often he came into my room or how often he actually invited me into his. We spent many days without uttering a word to each other. He attended a different part of the school building, so sometimes after breakfast we wouldn't even see each other until dinner. Suzie Granger, a sixth-grader, had a crush on Ian and tried to get him to look at her, but even if she stood in his direct path, he acted as if she were invisible. One day in school, she grabbed me angrily and said, "Haying Ian as a brother must be like being an only child."

  I had no idea what she meant, but that was when I found out she wanted him to pay attention to her, and Lila McIntyre, a girl in my class, explained what it meant to have a crush on someone. Her sister had told her.

  "Why do they call it a crush?" I asked.

  "You love them so much you just want to squeeze them to bits," she said, which I thought wasn't that great anyway. It sounded painful.

  "You're not talking to just anyone, Jordan.," Ian said. "I'm your brother, and you should trust your brother more than any stranger."

  "I don't trust any strangers. I don't talk to strangers...

  "I didn't actually mean you talk to strangers," he said, a little frustrated. He put his hands on hi
s hips. "Look, you're my sister. We're family, so what happens to you is important to me," he said.

  What happens to me is important to him? I looked at him. He had never said anything like that to me before. I was never interesting to him and nothing I liked or did attracted him, but he did like to tell me about the things he did. It wasn't his fault that I was bored too much to listen or care. The truth was he talked to me more than he did Mama and especially Daddy. At least I listened, even if I didn't understand much of what he had to say.

  "So? What's the big secret? Spit it out," he said.

  It felt like something I would like to spit out. I thought.

  He stood there looking down at me. He had lots of patience and never stamped his foot or shouted. Unlike some of my girlfriends at school who had older brothers. too. I never had mean fights with my brother and we never said mean things to each other. In fact, he didn't argue much with anyone. He would just say, "I'm not wasting my breath."

  I looked up at him and then I looked at the open door. "Mama might get mad at me if I tell you," I said.

  "So. I won't let her know you told me, okay?"

  I knew when Ian said he would do something, he would do it, and when he said he wouldn't, he wouldn't, no matter what, but I didn't like betraying Mama. He knew what was bothering me. Ian was almost as good as Grandmother Emma when it came to reading faces.

  "She won't get mad anyway. Jordan, and even if she does, I'll tell her it was my fault, okay?"

  "Okay," I said, but I didn't say anything. I was trying to find the right words, words that made sense to me.

  "Well?"

  "I've got precocious," I said.

  "What?" He squinted and twisted his nose. Then he smiled. Had I said it wrong?

  "Precocious," I repeated.

  "You're precocious? I doubt that," he said. "You're most likely an average student, not that there's anything wrong with it. Anyway, they don't take people who are precocious to set medical doctors, Jordan. Psychologists, maybe, but not MDs. You're not precocious."

  "It's true, Ian. Dr. Dell'Acqua said so and she poked my arm and took blood out of me even though blood came out of me already," I blurted, and immediately regretted it. All that was still