20
Ruth Anne
Edmonds, Washington – 2001
On an ordinary Tuesdaymorning in September, I was in the library when I learned that a plane crashed into one of the twin towers in New York City. Between classes, I turned on the small TV in my storage room, terrified when a second plane hit the other tower.
“We’re under attack,” another teacher said, her voice tight.
As more news of the tragedy emerged, parents pulled their children from classrooms, turning our school into a ghost town. Because the restaurant was closed for renovations, Salvador collected both girls from school and brought them home. I promised to join them as soon as I could.
The few remaining students and their teachers sought refuge in the library. While I too wanted to stay glued to the television or just go home, I couldn’t abandon the children whose parents hadn’t been able to pick them up from school. Besides, I’d experienced enough tragedy to last a lifetime. I didn’t want to stand in the stuffy storage closet, speculating with the other teachers about what this attack meant for our country.
Instead, I made a mission of comforting the frightened students. While they all knew something horrible had happened, they hadn’t been told all the details. Together, we read books, did crafts, and played games.
On the drive home, I listened to the news, my heart breaking for our nation and all the people who’d lost their lives. In the living room, I found the girls eating ice cream and watching an old episode of Full House.
“Mom.” Lia leaped from the couch and threw herself into my arms. “Where have you been?”
“I was at school. Didn’t Papa tell you?”
“What took you so long?”
Her question made me feel guilty. I could’ve left early, but I’d been compelled to stay. Besides, Lia was a teenager now. Lately, she’d made it abundantly clear she didn’t need me hovering over her. Having her cling to me now was bittersweet.
After hugging Brandy, the three of us briefly talked about everything, including the Full House episode they were watching.
“We had to take a break from the news,” Brandy explained, gesturing at the TV.
“I understand. Where’s Salvador?”
“Next door, watching the news with Jane.”
I felt relieved that my husband had protected the girls from all this tragedy by going somewhere else to watch the coverage. While I wanted Brandy and Lia to be informed, I worried about the impact this would have on their emotional health. There was only so much sorrow a person could take, after all.
In the shower, I sobbed, overwhelmed by the images I’d seen today. Life could be so hard. And yet stories of hope had started to trickle out of Manhattan. Stories of strangers helping strangers. Stories of people donating whatever they had to support those in need.
After putting on my favorite flannel pajamas, I stepped out of the bathroom to find Salvador standing at the window in our bedroom. He turned to me, and we embraced. As he held me, I ignored the smell of our neighbor’s perfume on his shirt. Jane was super touchy-feely, so of course, she’d hugged him.
“What took you so long to come home?” he asked, his voice as despondent as Lia’s had been.
“I didn’t want to leave the students.”
“Didn’t their parents come get them?”
“A lot of them did, but not all of them.”
Something I didn’t understand passed between us. Was Salvador upset I hadn’t abandoned my job to rush home? If the restaurant had been open today, he probably would’ve stayed.
* * *
A month later,as our country began the long process of healing, Salvador and I were in the kitchen, washing dishes after dinner. The girls had gone to the movies with friends, so we had the house to ourselves.
Life felt so sweet at that moment. The girls both seemed to be in good spaces, Salvador was pleased with the restaurant’s renovations, and I was sincerely enjoying my job this year. Then my husband confessed to having an emotional affair with Jane, our neighbor.
“An emotional affair?” I repeated, not understanding.
“I wasn’t going to tell you because nothing physical happened,” he said. “Well, nothing like sex. We hugged a few times, and she kissed me, but I stopped that.”