Miss Grace of the Spades, Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Back at the house, it was life as usual for a typical Saturday night at the Olson house.  After dinner, Nicholas lit the fireplace, sat back to watch TV, while Lilliana helped Teresa finish up with dishes.  Christian went directly to his room to listen to his latest download from I-tunes, and catch up on texting his friends.   With the fire blazing in the family room fireplace, Nicholas gazed out the eight foot high window that was next to the brick façade of the fireplace.  The snow was still falling and judging by the amount that had accumulated on the wooden two by six inch hand rail, he estimated that close to five inches had already fallen.  As he switched on the two 150 watt spotlights that were mounted on the back outside wall of the house, the cascading snowflakes almost blinded him.  From what he could see, the backyard had been transformed from the drab looking grays and browns of fall to an instant winter wonderland.  The grouping of three Colorado blue spruce trees on the left side of his yard looked as if they were flocked and ready for Christmas lights.  The ibuprofen caplets Nicholas took as soon as he got in the house and the ice pack he wrapped around his left wrist had finally taken the pain away.  It still did feel swollen, but at least the pain was now temporarily gone.  Teresa practically begged him to go to the urgent care center at North Beloit Clinic, but he refused, telling her that if it wasn’t better by Monday, he’d then go see his doctor.  As usual, she accused him of being stubborn, and refused to give him any sense of pity or sorrow for his condition.  If he was that ignorant and refused to go to the doctor, he deserved to suffer, she complained.   In his mind, why should he go sit in a waiting room full of sick people where he had better chance of catching someone’s virus only to have the doctor tell him that he only sprained his wrist? He was sure that with time and ibuprofen, the wrist would be good as new in a few weeks.

The silent treatment from Teresa was usually a sign that the night was not going to go well.  Lately there were more silent nights between the two of them than there were happy conversation filled nights.  Nicholas could remember nights before there were kids running around the house that they always enjoyed good conversations by the fire with a good glass of chardonnay.  They were young, successful college grads that had good jobs and their futures ahead of them.  However there always seemed to be a sense of eternal sadness in Nicholas that Teresa could not quite figure out.  There had been times where Teresa would ask him what was going on, and she queried as to whether or not she was the cause of him feeling down, to which he always denied, saying it was really nothing that was bothering him and it certainly was not something that she had said or done to make him feel the way he did.  Teresa usually chalked it up to him having a bad day at work, and let it go.  Usually after a day or two he would seem to be back to his normal self, and life would go on as before.  When their first son David was born, Nicholas proclaimed it to be the second happiest day of his life, only getting married to Teresa being the best.  Unfortunately as the stresses of being new parents and the realities of raising a baby set in, the same old sad Nicholas returned.  Even seeing his son reach new milestones such as sitting up for the first time, standing, walking, and saying his first word, failed to make Nicholas happy.  The truth was that deep inside Nicholas carried an eternal depression that would not leave him.  Even after the birth of their other two kids, and earning praises of his peers for achieving his Master’s Degree in Education failed to diminish the depression.  In fact, as time went by, he felt himself becoming more of a prejudice filled person that could no longer cope with anyone that was not white.  Inside he knew he shouldn’t feel this way and did indeed want to treat everyone fairly.  After all, Beloit has a very diverse population, with people from all walks of life.  Lately, just like most other cities in the Midwest, Beloit had seen an increase in the Latino population.  Along with the increasing Latino population, Beloit also has a bigger than average African-American population as well.  Nicholas believed that most if not all blacks in the school came from broken or single family homes, where there was either no father, or the father was not living in the home.  He believed that there were only a handful of black kids that actually had a mother and father living together in one household, and the fathers were usually the only black male teachers that worked for the school district.  Most of those teachers didn’t care for Nicholas, and rarely had good things to say about him.  Most of the teachers who knew him could recall several occasions where they had to break up heated conversations in the teacher break room about how Nicholas showed preferential treatment towards white students in his class, and how he never gave any breaks to the non-whites in his classes.  Had he not been tenured by the school, more than likely he would have been terminated by the board several years prior to the current school year.
 
As the fire started to die and the snow continued to accumulate outside, Nicholas opened the back door to the deck, brushed off close to six inches of powdery snow off of the seasoned split cherry wood that was stacked next to the house.  The storm nearly over, the brisk north wind was increasing as the low pressure moved on east, and the high pressure was starting to filter into the state line area.  The clouds were clearing, and Nicholas could see a few stars peaking through.  He grabbed an armful of the cherry wood with his left hand, only to feel the sharp pain return in his wrist.  He closed the patio door quickly, and tossed a few pieces on the fire, and placed the other piece in the carrier that was on the left side of the hearth.  Teresa walked into the room as Nicholas sat back down in his chair.  “How’s the wrist?”  she inquired.  “It’s starting to hurt again, but it’ll be okay, I already told you it will be FINE.” Nicholas emphatically replied.  The icy reply he gave her was typical of the direction the evening had been between them.  Teresa had spent most of the evening working in her office room working on some scrapbook project.  Christian’s friend Alex came over, and the two were playing video games on their Nintendo 3DS’s.  Lilliana was on her computer doing homework, writing a paper for English class that was due on Monday.  Nicholas had spent most of the evening reading a novel from his favorite murder mystery author while listening to the smooth jazz music channel on cable. 
“We need to talk about Christmas, Nicholas.  There are going to be some changes in our holiday break this year”-  

“What, are we finally not going to celebrate Christmas?” interrupted Nicholas. 

“Why are you so cold about the holidays?” Teresa was starting to get agitated again.

“You know how I feel about the holidays.  I am sorry but they just depress me.”

“You just can’t be so cold about such a fun joyous time of the year.  Think of the kids.  Yes, I know they are getting older and all, and the whole Santa Claus thing, but come on! Maybe if you believed in God you’d feel differently about the birth of Jesus.” Teresa’s voice started getting louder now.  “I know life has dealt you a bum card, but come on Nicholas, you have to believe that things happen for a reason and life is what it is and is what you make of it.  If you continue to not believe in G�"“

 Nicholas interrupted again.  “D****t Teresa, I do believe in GOD, but not like you and the kids do.  Yes, I believe there is a God, but my life does not revolve around it like yours does.  Where was he when I needed him?  I called out to him in desperation and he left me out to dry.  You wonder why I’m the way I am?  You know damn good and well why I am the way I am, and if you can’t accept me, then….”

Clearly getting upset now, Nicholas got up from his recliner, walked over to the liquor cabinet, took out a bottle of Jack Daniels, grabbed a crystal goblet and poured a half glass of the whiskey. 

“Oh great, that’s your answer to everything, isn’t it?  Why bother running and exercising if you’re going to get drunk most nights out of the week?”  With that, Teresa walked back out of the room, leaving Nicholas to down the whiskey that burned his throat all the way to his stomach.  He poured himself another glass, this time a full glass, put the bottle back in the cabinet and sat back down in his recliner, sighed deeply, and stared into the now blazing fire.

As the alcohol started to take effect and the tension from the heated conversation with Teresa faded away, Nicholas calmed down again.  It was almost ten p.m. and Nicholas was considering going to bed when the phone rang.  Not knowing If Teresa would answer, Nicholas picked up the phone, checked the caller ID, and recognized the number as being David’s cell phone. 

“Hey Buddy, how’s it going?  Shouldn’t you be out partying there at Platteville?” Nicholas asked. 

“Hey Dad, it’s going well.  How’re you doing?  And you know the parties don’t start here for another hour or so yet.”  David was a second year student at University of Wisconsin’s Platteville campus located in south western Wisconsin, enrolled in their criminal justice program.  Ever since he was a kid, David dreamed of becoming a police officer or detective.  Nearly all of his make believe time early on in his life was spent playing cops and robbers, and as he got older, he loved reading the Hardy Boys mysteries.  Nicholas and Teresa knew he would pursue police work eventually, as he thrived at being a junior deputy at school.  He never missed watching shows like Cops, Law and Order, and any other show that had anything to do with solving crimes or mysteries.  But perhaps the single most influence on David was his Uncle Andrew.  Andrew, married to Teresa’s sister, is a police officer in Berwyn, Illinois.  As a youngster, David used to listen to Andrew’s talk of apprehending criminals, being in situations that almost got him killed, and stories of his heroic feats saving people from death’s grasp by pulling them from a burning building or a mangled car that was ready to explode.  Andrew had won several awards for his heroism, and now as he was promoted from spending the last 15 years as a beat cop to a detective, and he gained recognition for solving some of the harshest crimes and cold case crimes in Berwyn.  Although he could not divulge the entire information to David about particular crimes, the two spoke regularly through email and texts.  At times Nicholas felt that David looked up more to Andrew than he did to Nicholas himself.   On the outside, Nicholas wasn’t bothered by this; he himself had no desire to be in law enforcement, and felt that it was good that David had someone reliable he could look up to.  There were times where Nicholas wished that David would look at him with the same amazement and wonder when Nicholas talked about some of the students over the years that Nicholas had helped turn their learning careers around and become successful students.  Supposedly kids were more interested in death defying situations that police officers found themselves involved in, rather than hearing about how many kids passed English for any given year in middle school.  Despite David’s infatuation with law enforcement and Andrew’s career and his experiences as an officer, David did still look up to Nicholas, and as a student modeled himself after his father.  Although he wasn’t tops in his senior class, he still managed to graduate in the top five percent,  and so far at Platteville was maintaining a respectful 3.75 grade point average.

  

“So finals are coming up in a couple of weeks,” Nicholas continued.  “How’s the GPA coming along, are you still keeping the grades up?”

  

“Well Dad, it’s been a brutal semester.  But I think that I’ve managed to maintain straight A’s.   Depending on how well I do with my research paper for Lit class, will determine whether or not I can keep an A in that class.  The prof is real tough, but the TA is helping me out quite a bit in letting me know what exactly the prof is looking for.”  David replied.  “He’s a tough old crank that really just needs to retire.  I get the feeling he doesn’t like me, or anyone else in class for that matter, and just because we’re all future cops, he’s out to ruin our GPA’s.”

“Well that’s not right, son,” Nicholas said with a concerned tone of voice.  “In fact, maybe you should tell him that your father is an English teacher and that he should go easy on you.  You could even tell him that you’ve had a change of heart and now have decided to follow in your old man’s footsteps and want to be a teacher like me.”   Nicholas took another gulp of whiskey from the glass, stood up and walked towards the fireplace, gazing out at the snowy backyard.  “Nah, I know you’re heart is in police work, and I know you’ll make a damn fine cop someday.  Imagine, my boy a cop!  Wow, who’d a thunk that? We’re going to have another Law and Order man in the family.  You and Uncle Andy.  Now that’d be a great duo, let me tell you!”

Now sensing that his father had been drinking, David began to feel the desire to end his conversation with Nicholas, before he started off on a rant about his desire to become a cop.  David had been victim of such rants many of times, mostly when he and Nicholas would be together at home alone.   In fact, after several embarrassing moments in front of friends he’d brought over, David learned that when his dad was drinking, it was best to just stay away from him.  More than once could he remember situations when Nicholas would bring up seemingly insignificant moments to him, but to David they were incidents that he didn’t want friends to know about, like about the time where as a junior deputy in eighth grade, David thought one of his classmates were being abducted because when he was waiting to be picked up after school, he got into a different car than usual.  Instead of being picked up by his parents, Ryan Parker was picked up by two very huge looking men, who actually were Ryan’s uncle and his co-worker.  Both were secret service men, on break from working for a senator from the district that happened to be a vice presidential candidate.  David was convinced that Ryan was being abducted, so not only did he call 911, but he pursued the car driving away from school, eventually launching a brick at the car, breaking its back window.  Fortunately, no one was hurt, and the secret service did not press charges against David or the Olson family, but they did spend and hour or so interrogating both David and Nicholas to see if there were any ties to organized crime or to any foreign radicals.   It never failed that when friends of Nicholas’ or Teresa’s came to the house and they found out that David wanted to be a cop, and if Nicholas was drinking, that story would be told, to the endless laughter and humiliation of David.

 

“So Dad, is Mom busy?” David anxiously asked, looking for any excuse to end the conversation with Nicholas. 

“Yeah, she’s around here somewhere.  So when’re you coming home for the semester break?  Do you have any plans?  Or just going to take it easy and rest the brain?  Going skiing again with Joe and Jake?”  More questions that David really didn’t feel like answering, knowing the answers would not be the answers his father would not want to hear. 

“Well Dad, the semester ends on the thirteenth, and then finals are wrapped up by the twentieth.   My last final in criminal philosophy is on the nineteenth at six p.m., so I could come home that night.  But I’m not sure what we’re going to do yet �" hey Dad I um, really need to talk to Mom real quick before I head out.  Is she there?”  Realizing that he had better not divulge too much information about the upcoming Christmas break, David made it sound like he had to get going quickly.

“Just a minute. She’s in her dungeon creating pictures of Frankenstein’s daughter or something like that again.”  Walking from the living room into the kitchen and down to the stairway, Nicholas shouted down the lit carpeted staircase to Teresa’s office below. “TERESA! Pick up the phone.  It’s your first born calling for you!” Teresa, working on a scrapbook for her friend Elaine, put down the photo of Elaine and her daughter Greta who was being pushed in a swing by Elaine’s husband Frank, and picked up the handset to the land line phone sitting on her desk. 

“Hi Honey, how are you?  How’s school going?” Teresa inquired.  “Are you getting enough to eat, enough sleep and all?”

“Yes Mom, of course I am!” David replied with a bit of adolescent sarcasm in his voice.  “School’s going well. I really have had a tough semester, but I think my GPA is going to be just fine and will not suffer any.  And of course, I’m eating well and getting enough to sleep and to drink, too.”  With the emphasis on drink, David could hear Teresa sigh a bit, but reassuringly he quickly responded by telling her that he stayed away from parties during the week.  Sensing that the tell tale click on the other end of the phone had not been heard, David now in a quiet tone of voice spoke in Spanish: “Todavia esta?”

“Si mi amor”, she replied.  Still there listening on the other end of the phone.  Both David and Teresa spoke Spanish, while Nicholas vehemently hated when the two of them spoke it, as he had no desire to learn the language.  In fact, it used to upset him to the point of not talking to either of them for a day or two when they used to go off in conversations spoken totally in Spanish.  Teresa learned to speak the language in college; David studied Spanish starting in middle school and continued studying it all through high school.  Now continuing studying it at Platteville, he was considering a Spanish minor, but the school did not offer a minor in the language.  “Aye mi amor, tu papa todavia esta escuchando.  Por eso no hables nada de tu novia, claro?”

David needed to talk to Teresa about bringing his girlfriend, Desiree, home with him for the holiday break.  But with his father listening, he had to wait until he switched off the cordless phone upstairs.  At this point in time, he did not want Nicholas to know, especially when he was drinking.  As he sighed into the phone, he could hear the crackling of wood burning in the fireplace, along with jazz music being played in the background.  He knew his mother didn’t listen to jazz, so David knew his father was still listening.  “Aye te digo mama, que vamos hacer con el, I tell you, Mom what are we going to do with him?  They both laughed, knowing there was nothing they could do with Nicholas speaking Spanish, there was no way he’d ever have any desire to learn.  Finally with that comment, both David and Teresa heard the phone click off upstairs, and they knew that Nicholas was no longer listening to their conversation.

“In case you hadn’t figured it out, your Dad is drinking again.  We had a, well,  discussion earlier this evening and I tried to talk to him about Christmas and �"“

“Yeah Mom, that’s what I wanted to know, if you’d talked to Dad yet about me bringing Desiree home with me.  David interrupted.  “She has to know now otherwise she’s going to have to make other plans to be at her sister’s house in Montgomery, and really has no way of getting there.  Have you talked to him yet?”

“Not yet…”  Teresa replied with a bit of frustration in her voice.  “I tried to bring it up to him tonight because I knew you were going to call.  I would have picked up the phone just now when you called, but I was on my cell phone with Elaine.  I had a question about the scrapbook I’m doing for her and Greta and I couldn’t pick up the phone, which is why your dad picked up.   Earlier today there was some sort of incident with him and an old black woman by the cemetery.”  Teresa began to explain. 

“Whaaat now?”  David almost disgustingly inquired.  Teresa told David about how Nicholas had encountered the woman, and how defiant he was about going to get his wrist checked out.  David listened as she continued to give the details as she knew them.  “So did you find this lady, Mom?” he asked once she completed her version of the encounter. 

“Well that’s the odd thing about it all, is that the flowers and the teddy bear are there on the graves, but there was no sign, no footprints, nothing that would indicate anyone had been there.   It’s quite puzzling, but then again, if it’s anything strange that’s going to happen to anyone, it will be to your father.”

“Huh.  That’s interesting.  So what do you think happened to her?” David now beginning to think like a detective; his interest piqued.  “Aye mi amor, you have a enough to worry about with your finals.  Don’t worry about your father or some poor old black woman that we’re not even sure exists.  Just worry about your finals and getting back here for the holidays.  We’re going to be so happy to have you and Desiree here for Christmas!  I can’t wait to meet her.”

 

“Well Mom, I hope Dad shares your enthusiasm.  I guess I have to face him sooner or later, and he’s going to have to accept her as someone I care about a lot.  So please can you find time tomorrow and ask Dad about me bringing Desiree home with me?  We need an answer tomorrow so she can figure out an alternative plan in case she can’t stay with us.”

“No te preocupes, mi amor.”  I’ll take care of it and don’t worry about your Dad.

 

“Okay Mom, I had better get going.  We’re heading out for pizza and… pop.  Say hi to Lilliana and Christian for me.  See you next weekend!  Can’t wait to be home.  Love you!”

 

“Love  you too, mi amor.”   Teresa said as she hung up the phone.  Sighing deeply, she looked at the mess on her desk.  In front of her were smiling pictures of Greta as a little girl with her pretty pink dress on, sitting on her dad’s lap; pictures of her with her dolls, Elaine and her at Disney World both wearing Mickey Mouse ears.  Teresa certainly had a knack for choosing the right pictures for the right scrapbook page, forever capturing the moment of life and enhancing the image to tell a story of the people in the pictures.   Her sister used to tell her that she should become a professional scrapbook maker and try to make a living at it.  Unfortunately she thought, no way was a person going to be willing to pay her enough money to make it worth her while, or make it worth leaving her job as a guidance counselor at North Beloit Junior High.  She had finally reached the point in her career where she was well respected as a counselor, and thoroughly enjoyed helping students choose the right path to go down on their academic endeavors.  Often she had said that if she could make a career out of creating scrapbooks for people, she’d leave the school in a heartbeat, but knew in her heart that she would be able to look forward to doing just that once she and Nicholas decided to retire from teaching and guiding, and she could then enjoy making scrapbooks filled with pictures of her own grandchildren.   As she looked up from her picture covered desk to the bookcases against the wall to her right, she proudly admired the rows of scrapbooks she’d made for her own kids, and began to realize just how long it had been since she’d created those books that captured the memories of each of the kids’ first few years.  Now her oldest was talking about bringing his first true love home to meet the rest of the family.  Certainly, she had no problem with David bringing Desiree home with him for the holidays.  Teresa always told her children that they were welcome to bring their friends, and girlfriends home with them.  She figured that at least if they were home, she knew where her kids were, and could somewhat control who they were with and who they were being influenced by.  Sighing deeply again, Teresa dreaded the conversation she was going to have to have with Nicholas tomorrow about Desiree.  It was not like David was going to have Desiree staying in his room with him.  The guest bedroom would not be used over the holidays, and she would definitely be staying there.  Teresa knew that as David was already considered an adult, he theoretically could make educated adult decisions, and would not jeopardize his future by making a “mistake” that would alter the path of his life forever, or so she had hoped anyway.  At least she was able to talk openly with her children about life, and about the consequences kids today faced when making bad choices.  She felt and firmly believed that she and Nicholas were raising three children with good heads on their shoulders.   She also felt that God had indeed blessed them with three intelligent kids that would make good choices and would someday grow up to have wonderful families and have good jobs.  She prayed each day and night for God to continue to watch over them and to continue to bless them.  So far her prayers had been answered.  Now if He could give her strength to tell her husband who seemingly exhibited racist tendencies that their first born son would be bringing his African- American girlfriend home for the holidays.