Swingset Therapy
by Shelly Long De Mendoza
The couple in their late 30s parked in the mulch-covered lot and walked hand in hand over the wooden bridge which led to Greenfield Lake Park. The husband carried a traditional wicker picnic basket with red and white plaid fabric folded over the sides. It was the first time they had ventured outdoors since that dreadful day, and Lucy immediately regretted agreeing to a picnic. The trees were too alive, the day too bright, the people too carefree. She already missed the darkness of her room, the solitude and silence that didn’t require fake smiles, pretend cheer, or “moving on.”
“This spot good?” Noah asked, when they reached a shaded area of grass near a maple tree whose yellow and orange leaves painted the perfect autumn picture.
Lucy nodded, and he spread out the thin, elephant print blanket that they had purchased in Morocco on their honeymoon. He took her hand to help her sit down — a nice gesture, but unnecessary. Her body had fully recovered; it was her heart that was still broken. From the picnic basket he retrieved a bottle of red wine and two wine glasses. He looked at her hopefully, slightly worried she would take offense. He looked like a man who had just proposed but couldn’t tell if his girlfriend liked the ring or hated it.
“At least I can drink now,” she said with a sad smile, reaching for the wine glass.
Relieved, Noah poured them both a glass, and offered a conflicted, “Cheers to being able to drink?”
After clinking glasses, Lucy took a sip, tried to enjoy the first taste of alcohol she had consumed in six months, and looked around. Two teenage boys threw a frisbee back and forth, some college students played a game of volleyball on the other side of the lake, and an older couple played fetch with their German Shepherd. Barely visible from their spot on what seemed like the adult side of the park was a playground with a brightly colored plastic slide, some handlebars, a wooden swingset, and a four person seesaw.
“So how are you feeling today?” Noah asked.
Lucy didn’t mind when her therapist asked that question, but coming from her husband, it made her cringe. “I’m ok,” she lied, trying to smile.
“I was thinking. You know how we’ve been talking for years about hiking Mount Kilimanjaro? This summer could be a good time. We have like eight months to train, and it would give us something to look forward to. I mean, if you feel up to it.” Noah had been staring at the Moroccan elephants when he was talking, but when he finished his speech, he looked up at Lucy, and pushed his glasses back into place.
“It’s kind of expensive you know. And if we want to try IVF again, we should save as much as possible,” she countered.
A few seconds passed. The wind blew some leaves off of the tree; a few landed on the blanket between them. Noah picked them up and threw them to the side, thankful for something to do.
Tentatively, he asked, “Do… you… want… to try again?” He carefully placed equal emphasis on every word, trying not to reveal through intonation that he had an opinion at all.
“I mean, it took three times before it worked for Leslie.”
It was a few moments before Noah spoke again. “It’s just that… there’s no guarantee. But if you want to try…”
“You don’t?”
“I… well… I guess it’s your decision.”
“How is it my decision? You still want to have a baby, don’t you?”
Lately, Noah had become quite good at not having an opinion. Luckily, he didn’t have to answer because a chunky African-American toddler stumbled by at that moment. She had two puffs of hair on each side of her head, held in place with orange hair ties. She was wearing brown overalls with a pumpkin on the front and white high top Converses. She could have easily been featured in a baby Gap advertisement. When she realized how close she was to two strangers, she lost her balance, and fell right in the middle of the Moroccan blanket. She looked up at the couple with big brown eyes, trying to decide whether to cry or not.
“I’m so sorry,” her mother hurried behind her, panting. “Jasmine, not so fast — She’s just learning to walk, and she’s way too confident.”
She reached down and grabbed the child with both hands, placing her securely on her hip.
“She’s adorable,” Noah said.
“Oh, thanks. She keeps us busy, that’s for sure! — Let’s go find Daddy, ok?”
Not yet ready to make small talk with strangers, Lucy remained silent. She could hear faint cheers of victory coming from the distant volleyball match. The frisbee throwers had recruited a cute girl; one of them was now teaching her how to flip her wrist and when to release the frisbee for the perfect throw. She made a pathetic attempt, and then covered her face in embarrassment.
“I guess we need to talk about where to go from here,” Noah said, delicately trying to return to the conversation.
Lucy played with the buckle on her sandal. All of the happiness and carefree activity around her had shined a spotlight on her misery. “Sometimes, when I wake up in the morning, I think I’m still pregnant. Just for a minute. And then I remember, and I get so angry. There’s probably a crackhead in a hospital somewhere right now giving birth to her fifth kid.”
Noah scooted closer and took her hand. She flinched slightly but let the warmth of his hand remind her to take deep breaths. He thought about what he could say right now that would help, but couldn’t come up with anything he hadn’t said before. I know this is hard. I’m so sorry. I’m sad too. He decided to join her instead. “There’s probably a teenager crying over a positive pregnancy test… And some woman railing at God because she just found out she’s having twins.”
Lucy giggled. “Some guy’s getting snipped because he hates his children and doesn’t want to risk having more.”
“Someone’s teenager has just wrecked a brand new car,” he added.
“Someone’s toddler has just smeared their poop all over the wall.”
Strangely, thinking of these scenarios made them laugh, and they hadn’t laughed in months. Noah stood up abruptly, grabbed Lucy’s hand, and pulled her to her feet.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I have an idea,” he said, “Come on.”
He guided her past the lake towards the playground, which was empty and still. Some dark clouds had temporarily stalled in front of the sun, as if God had closed the blinds on the park. Lucy felt uneasy in an area meant for parents and children, and Noah could sense that she was uncomfortable.
“Let’s swing,” he suggested quickly, taking her hand and gently pulling her across the sand.
This is a ridiculous idea, Lucy thought. But she had been a bitch to live with lately, so she acquiesced. They sat down side by side on the swings and instinctively started kicking their legs, trying to get as high as possible. “Jump on three!” Noah yelled. “1 – 2 – 3 – Jump!”
They landed on their hands and knees in the sand, laughing at how much courage letting go of the chains required and how fast their hearts were pounding. Feeling somewhat liberated from their grief for a moment, they laid on their backs and looked up at the clouds. The sun was slowly emerging. Noah reached for Lucy’s hand at the same time she reached for his.
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