The Unraveling

Everything would have been different had Brooke and Andy Tyler called before picking up their daughter early when their event got cancelled. Their Honda Civic sedan weaved through the Portland neighborhood in which Brooke had grown up, and the windshield wipers squeaked without enough rain to make them glide smoothly. The sun peeked out, accentuating the red rhododendrons and pink azaleas adorning ranch homes one after another.

“Now the sun comes out,” said Brooke, leaning into the windshield and looking up.

“Predictable,” said Andy, simultaneously turning off the wipers and pulling into his in-law’s driveway.

Brooke opened the front door without ringing the bell. She saw her daughter Sapphire eating with her parents at the kitchen table with McDonald's bags on the counter. 

Grandma Phyllis’s face fell. “You’re early.” 

“Yeah, Mom—we got rained out. What’s this? Are you feeding our daughter Chicken McNuggets?” Brooke’s body became rigid. She turned to Andy to get his reaction, and her wide eyes signaled incredulity.

While three-year-old Sapphire raised her arms and said, “Mommy!” Phyllis snagged the nuggets from her granddaughter's plate and repatriated them to her own. French fries, catsup, julienne-sliced carrots, and string cheese remained.

As Brooke lifted her daughter up, Grandpa Ted interjected, “What kind of event was it again?”

Andy said, “It was a—”

“This is a problem. A big problem.” Brooke struggled to keep her composure for her daughter’s sake. “Mom, you’ve broken my trust. I provided food for you, and you’re feeding her these animal parts against our vegetarian beliefs. How could you?”

Sapphire cried. 

“It was just a few bites. Toddlers need their protein. You used to eat this when you were growing up. Sapphire is too thin. I’m just looking out for her.”

Turning to Andy, “Let’s grab our stuff and go,” said Brooke.

Ted said, “Let’s not make a big deal out of this.” He put his hand on his daughter’s forearm. 

“Dad, how can you defend her? I can’t foresee getting past this.” She shook her head.

Sapphire continued to fuss on Brooke’s shoulder. Andy gathered toys, a sippy cup, and a blanket and placed them in Sapphire’s travel bag.

“We can come get the rest later,” said Brooke to Andy. 

“What do you mean, ‘rest?’” asked Phyllis, who stood with arms akimbo. 

Her mom’s offensive stance in the face of being wrong reminded Brooke of seventh grade. She’d nearly completed a sewing project for home economics class, but brought it home to finish the hemming. Her mom praised her achievement but undermined the accomplishment by offering to fix it. Brooke refused the help, but overnight, Phyllis disassembled the dress to better align the sleeves, remove the puckering, and even the hemline and cuffs. 

Brooke noticed the changes the following day and burst into tears, whereas Phyllis expected gratitude. That kerfuffle instigated their contentious relationship. 

 “I can’t trust you to take care of my child anymore.” All eyes turned toward Brooke. The room became quiet except for the rain pelting the kitchen skylight.

Phyllis gasped. 

“I know tempers are hot right now, but can’t we talk this through?” asked Ted.

Andy put his arms out to take Sapphire, and she willingly transferred to Daddy, and then they sat on the living room sofa. He grabbed her favorite bunny toy from the bag and handed it to her.

Phyllis moved toward her daughter. “Look, I won’t feed her McDonald's again, okay?” Her sarcastic tone reverberated.

“You don’t get it, Mom. This isn’t about the nuggets. It’s about a broken trust.”

“Well, I know all about losing trust.” Phyllis’s eyes darted to Ted.

Brooke’s dad reddened, and he looked down. 

“What are you saying, Mom, that Dad cheated on you?”

Phyllis crossed her arms. “I forgave him.” 

Andy gave Sapphire playful kisses, lifted her up, and took her into the family room, jiggling her as he went. 

“Phyllis, how could you? You’re trying to get the spotlight off yourself by moving it to me. Don’t.” 

Seldom had Brooke heard her father speak with such vehemence. “Oh my god, what’s happening?” Brooke picked up her purse. 

Andy poked his head in the doorway and signaled with his finger for his wife to join him in the family room. Brooke joined him and saw Andy had settled Sapphire in front of the TV. 

Andy said, “Let’s talk, okay?” They sat down on the couch. “I know you’re mad at your mom. Me too. But it sounds like you want to cut your mom out of Sapphire’s life completely.”

“The way I feel right now, yes.” They could hear voices raised in the adjacent room.

“That’s a big step, sweetie. May I suggest that we not close any doors today? I’m thinking big picture, like the cost of daycare. Like our upcoming trip to Hawaii before the Y2K moratorium on vacations comes up. We rely on your parent's help with Sapphie a lot.”

“I know. But how do we make sure Mom follows our parental boundaries? And she didn't even apologize." Brooke glanced at Sapphire, giggling at a cartoon. “Can you believe Dad cheated on Mom? Oh my god!”

“How 'bout we head out and let them know we'll get back to them?"

Brooke nodded.

***

The next day, Brooke played in the nursery with her daughter and her toy xylophone. Together, they sang, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” with Brooke tapping on the colored metallic bars. Sapphire grabbed the hammer from her mom and a cacophony ensued. Brooke observed Sapphie didn't care how the notes or her singing sounded—the toddler was just happy with the accomplishment.

Brooke glanced in the open closet and peered at overalls with black and white gingham fabric. It reminded her of the material she'd chosen for her dress in middle school, the one her mom had refashioned. Although it had angered her then, she admitted her mom's intentions were well-meaning. 

Andy appeared in the doorway. “Your Dad’s on the phone. Will you talk to him?”

“I guess. You got her?"

Andy reached for his daughter, who didn’t want to part with her toy. “Let’s just move you, baby girl. We’ll take your xylophone with us.”

"Zi-phone," said Sapphire.

Brooke grabbed the phone from the cabinet in the family room.

“Hello?” 

“Your mom has been crying since you left.”

“We didn’t sleep so well ourselves.”

“How can we make this better?”

“What is she crying about?”

“She’s afraid she won’t see her granddaughter again.”

“Is she sorry and willing to apologize and say she’ll never do it again?”

“Your mother’s not good at apologizing. She doesn’t think she’s done anything wrong. Being a grandmother is her entire identity at this stage of life. I hope you won’t take that away from her.”

“She’s not respecting our wishes. I know you guys don’t get us being vegetarian—but it’s our religion.” Milo, their gray cat, sauntered by as Brooke spoke, and she ran her hand along his tail.

“I thought you were Presbyterian?”

“Ha-ha, Dad. Just for wedding venues. We know being vegetarian is an inconvenience to Mom, and she doesn’t get it, but she crossed a big, red line."

“Here’s the question I’m afraid to ask. Will we be taking care of Sapphire this week after pre-school?”

“We’ve arranged for Andy’s mom to take over this week. We’ll figure out the rest soon.”

“So this is the hill you’re going to die on?”

“Nobody’s dying. For starters, I hoped for some admission of wrongdoing, being sorry, and promising not to do it again. Just like you and Mom taught me. How can I trust her to adhere to our eating plan?”

“Is that all? That’s a big hill, alright. You know, you weren’t always a paragon of virtue. I recall a certain incident when you came home from a high school party reeking of marijuana. You denied they had drugs at the party.”

“You’re bringing that up? I was a teenager. Besides, I didn’t smoke anything—it just got in my clothes.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Hey, Dad.” Brooke paused. “Now, for my tough question for you. Did you cheat on Mom?”

“Talk about a red line. We’re not going there. Ever. I’ll break the news to your mother about next week.”

***

The Tylers struggled through the following week. Although Andy’s mom stepped up to care for her granddaughter, it didn’t come naturally to her. She complained about all the sacrifices she had to make. Unlike Phyllis, Andy's mom refused to care for Sapphire now that she caught a virus.

“I can’t take off. I’m training eight new health inspectors tomorrow. It’s all arranged.” Brooke scraped off the food debris from the plate and handed it to Andy.

“I’m doing a presentation for IT about our Y2K plan that I’ve been working on for months.” Andy placed the plate into the dishwasher. “What do we do?”

Brooke shrugged.

“I know. How about you make up with your mom and return to how things were? She’s good to Sapphie. I don’t think she’ll repeat her mistake.”

“Or even admit it. Ugh! I’ll reschedule my training.”

“Your choice.”

***

A week later, as Brooke and Andy lay in their bed asleep, the phone rang in the other room.

“Let the machine get it,” said Brooke with a groggy voice.

Andy looked at the time on his bedside table, 2:13 a.m. “I’ll just go make sure it’s not an emergency.”

Moments later, he stood over Brooke. “It was your mom. Your dad’s in the hospital. Heart attack. I’m so sorry. What do you want to do?”

Brooke sat up and rubbed her face. “Oh, No! Poor Dad. I’ll go. You stay home with Sapphire.”

“You sure?”

“Believe me, I want you there with me, but I’m not even sure if they let kids in. I’ll go alone.”

***

The nurse pointed to the bay where Ted lay in the ER. Brooke separated the curtain as little as possible, just in case it wasn’t her dad’s bed. She immediately took in the scene: Dad connected to an IV, an oxygen line at his nose, and monitors flashing numbers and beeping. In a small space next to Dad sat Mom, looking smaller and more vulnerable than she had ever seen. 

Upon seeing Brooke, Phyllis jumped from her seat and embraced her daughter. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. We came by ambulance.”

“What happened, Dad?”

“It was a minor heart attack, emphasis on minor. My—”

“Your dad woke me up and said his chest hurt. And his arm. I immediately called 9-11. Those fire trucks came fast and probably woke up the entire neighborhood.”

“What did the doctor say, Dad? How do you feel now?”

“I feel…tired. What time is it? They did some tests. They promise more tests tomorrow. But the doctor said it was a minor—a wake-up call.”

“Well, that sounds as good as it can be,” said Brooke.

Phyllis said, “The doctor was really nice. He mentioned a three-part plan: exercise, medication, and diet. But he’s the ER doctor, and he’ll refer us to our regular doctor, who'll take it from there.”

“Your mother neglected to mention what kind of diet.”

“Vegetarian,” said Phyllis, rolling her eyes.

Brooke smirked. “Perhaps I can help you in that department, Mom?”

Phyllis grabbed Ted’s hand with her right hand. She hesitated and reached out her left hand to her daughter. For a few moments, her arm hung in the air. Then Brooke met her mother’s grasp.

“Perhaps you can,” said Phyllis.