Falling Apart at the Seams (Jimmy/Jacoby)

Well, here we go again! J&J are back in another adventure. As always, comments and con-crit are welcome! Hoping to see some familiar faces from stories past =).

Several years have past since we've last seen our dynamic duo. The girls are grown and starting families of their own and things are changing as always. But some things are changing for the worse and dealing with them is about to become almost impossible.

Disclaimer: I do not own Jimmy and Jacoby or anyone else real in here. I do own my original cast of characters that do no exist. Please do not steal; you won't like the outcome.

***

Prologue

I watched my dad as he broke down again, holding tight to my father. We had all known this day was going to be difficult, of course and no one was surprised or ashamed at his display. I held my four year old daughter, Ava, a little tighter as we filed past the casket and back to our cars. It was hard to believe that my grandma was gone and I know dad’s not going to be okay.

A lot has changed in the last few years since we talked. Eliza got married and has a little boy, Corey, who’s ten now and the spitting image of his father, Clayton, a daughter Rhiannon who is five, and one on the way. She’s a Smithland these days and could not be happier. Myself, I married Randi five years ago and we adopted Ava when she was a newborn. Randi and I moved to California two years ago and I think this is the best thing we’ve ever done.

“Mommy, where is grandma going?” Ava asked and I sighed, trying to come up with a good answer for her.

“Well, honey, grandma is going to be an angel now. She’s not in pain anymore and that’s what’s important.”

My daughter nodded, though I’m not sure she fully understood what I’d told her. It was the best I could do, however, as I buckled her into her car seat. She had amazing green eyes, black hair, and really, she looked a lot like her birth father. He and her mother couldn’t raise her, though we’ll have that talk when she’s much older. She knows she’s adopted, but she doesn’t know why.

“I’m going to go talk to dad,” I told Randi, as she got into the driver’s seat. We live in Irvine these days and it’s nice being close to HB.

“That’s fine. We’ll wait here.”

I nodded, moving across the parking lot, before my dad took me in his arms. His blue eyes were dull, red-rimmed, and I wished I could do something for him. He got his mom for 91 amazing years but that doesn’t stop the pain.

“It’s not fair,” he sobbed and I nodded, as his long, tattooed arms wrapped around me and held me tight. “I want her back, Cilla.”

I nodded again, because what else could I do? “I know, daddy, I know. If I could bring her back, I would. But just remember that she’s not in pain anymore and that’s important.”

Grandma had a few health scares as she got older, but things always resolved. She was diagnosed with diabetes back in 2030 but things were under good control for many years. Two years ago, though, she was diagnosed with cancer and it hit her hard. My parents decided against moving out here, since grandpa was more than able to care for his wife and Randi and I could help as well. My parents are semi-retired, so for the last month, they’ve been out here as grandma declined. She got two years and that was more than the doctor thought she’d get.

“I’ll see you at the church, okay?” I asked, and dad nodded, as Jacoby took him into the car, sitting next to grandpa.

It’s hard when your parents are in pain and there’s nothing you can do about it. We lost Grandma Shaddix when I was in high school and I saw the pain Jacoby went through then; I think dad’s pain might be even worse. Grandma Shaddix went suddenly, but we had to watch Grandma Sullivan die slowly and that’s worse, I think.

“Back to the church and then it’s back to the house,” I told Randi, as she backed out to follow the limo my family was riding in. The funeral home provides transportation to and from the cemetery and I was glad, because I’m sure my parents couldn’t drive and neither could my grandpa. “I just hope we don’t lose grandpa soon, you know? I remember working in the nursing home during my training and the widow would sometimes die within two years; I don’t want grandpa to do that.”

“I know, honey, but he’s strong, even if he doesn’t feel it right now. He’ll be okay over the coming months, just like my mom probably was when dad died.”

“I worry, though, you know? We’re close to HB, but I worry.”

It’s the nurse in me, I guess. I finally decided that the lifestyle I fell into after high school wasn’t for me and I went to nursing school after Randi. During my final semester we got a chance to fly along on Creighton One with my dad and I fell in love with flight nursing. The training was challenging but I enjoyed it and I’m glad I did it.

“Try not to worry, honey, it will only make you stressed out and sick,” Randi told me gently, patting my leg. We were in the church parking lot already and I realized I had no memory of the journey. “Well.”

I nodded, stepping from our red car, pulling my sweater a bit tighter around my shoulders. The strapless black dress I wore was a good fit, but a sudden cold wind had come up and I don’t think I was the only one who had noticed. I’m sure it’s just grandma saying hi, and in some ways, that’s a huge comfort. I held Ava’s hand as we walked into the hall, smelling the food that had been prepared for us; I never got the point of eating after the funeral.

“The family is sitting at this table here,” a polite younger woman said, gesturing to a long table at the front of the hall. “We’ll get everyone seated and then the family will go through the line first.”

I nodded, taking Ava’s hand and leading her to a set of black, fake leather chairs. The chairs were cold when I sat down, making sure my dress didn’t ride up too much. It stopped below my knees but it liked to ride up when I sat down for some reason. I was glad to see a booster seat placed nearby and grabbed that. Ava isn’t very tall yet, and I didn’t want her nose to plate with her food.

“Just sit, honey.”

I watched my father lead my dad in and I wondered if dad was going to faint. He was wheezing horribly, his face a mess of tears and I felt bad for him once again. I know that it’s hitting me hard, too, to lose my grandma, but this is my dad’s mom. He’d always feared this day, every time she got sick, but things always worked out. This time, he was not so lucky.

“Come on, dad, sit with me,” I said, as Eliza came in with her husband. Her stomach fit nicely into her dress, as she was seven months pregnant with their third child. I wasn’t sure if I wanted another child, but Randi did. We had to talk about it again and see if we could reach a compromise. “Promise me you’ll eat something, okay? Even if it’s just a couple crackers, I want you to eat.”

Dad nodded, but I wasn’t convinced. I wasn’t even alive when his adoptive mother passed, but I guess he had to be bribed, just about, to eat anything. Since I’m a mom now, I’m good at bribery, but I don’t think withholding crayons or something is going to work with a man in his sixties.

“You know, dad, if you eat, I can arrange time for just the two of us to go the beach later if you want.” Well, talk about word vomit.

He looked at me for a moment, wiping his face and he nodded. “I-I’d like that.”

His breathing isn’t very good right now, but I don’t think anyone is going to say anything. “Good. When we’re done eating, we’ll go back to the house and change, okay? Maybe we can call Bobby this week and see about Maybelle.”

Maybelle is Eliza’s horse. Now, I’ve heard that when she was little, Eliza had a horse at Hollister and Randy’s farm. She was in charge of the care of the horse (with help, since she was apparently around four or so), and could ride whenever she wanted. I was told it helped with the behavioral problems she was having at the time, and was therapeutic over the years when she needed comforting. Now, Maybelle has become therapeutic to my dad and I think that’s going to be important for the next several weeks. Of course, once they return to Iowa, I don’t know what he’ll do, but they aren’t heading back any time soon.

“And you know that Clancy and Abba will be waiting for you at home.” Bribe him with grandpa’s cats, too. “Just remember all the people that still need you, yeah?”

He looked over at Eliza who smiled and took his hand across the table, squeezing it. The promise of a fourth grandchild probably helped, too, and I finally saw the first hint of a smile on his face.

“I know. I’m—“

“You are not going to say you’re sorry, are you? There’s nothing to be sorry about, dad. This is a difficult time for you and you can feel however you need to feel, okay?”

He nodded, taking his hand back as the family was called to the food line. We were a smaller family than we had been ten or twenty years ago, but we were still good sized. Many of my great aunts and uncles had passed but a few were still here and my multiple cousins were here as well. The new generations were keeping the Sullivan name going and I know grandma would be proud.

“Chicken looks good,” I heard Ava say and I smiled. She’s been a great kid to have and she eats everything, it seems. “I like chicken.”

I had to giggle a bit listening to her; she’d been the comic relief in the days since grandma passed. I don’t think she realized how much it was appreciated, given her age, but the laughter that she caused was very welcome.

“Ohh…cheesy. That’s so tasty,” she said, licking her lips and rubbing her little Buddha belly. She’s not fat by any means, but she’s got a bit of a tummy on her and it’s kind of cute. “I love cheesy. Can I have some tea?”

My father, Jacoby, got her started on tea drinking. I told him no caffeine and as far as I know, he’s stuck to that, but I’m sure he slips up here and there; that’s what grandparents are for. As Ava went back to the table with her Great Aunt Katie, I snuck a kiss to Randi’s cheek and grabbed some tea as well.

“I hope my dad eats,” I said, as we sat down. The church ladies had prepared another wonderful meal, though I didn’t know how hungry I was. The food looked and smelled amazing, but all at once, I didn’t want any.

“I’ll eat if you eat,” he said from my right and I nodded, picking up a plain stainless steel fork. “One bite at a time.”

You might recall that when dad’s upset or sick, he doesn’t eat. Well, traits get passed down through the generations and I’m my dad made over. I made similar mistakes to him when I was younger and I’ve got a lot of his habits, too. I did finally quit smoking, at the urging of my wife. But my asthma has already suffered. The doctor tells me I might be on the path to COPD just like my dad in another twenty years, though I might get lucky. He’s been doing well until this week with his, so hopefully he can get it back under control.

“The chicken is very tasty,” Ava remarked, picking up a small piece of the cheese covered meat. There was a light sauce on it as well, and I had to agree. “You should have some.”

How can I resist those green eyes and that innocent face? I took a bite of the chicken and had to agree once more that it was good. I saw my dad doing the same and while I’m sure we both looked a little green at least we were eating. I remember when my parents came out here for grandma’s final weeks; dad couldn’t eat when she got really sick and she scolded him into submission from bed.

“I wonder of mama and papa were there to meet mom,” dad pondered and I looked over at him. “They got on so well, despite my fears. I mean, they more or less were my parents for twelve years before we found my birth parents. But mom and dad loved Hank and Eleanor and they loved getting to talk to them and see the pictures and hear the stories. I was so relieved when they got along. So I wonder, you know? If there’s an afterlife, did mama and papa meet my mom? I sure hope so.”

Dad and I have many similar beliefs, which is nice. We’re not really atheists, but we aren’t really agnostic, either. I suppose there’s a word for the middle ground, though it escapes me right now. I think there’s an afterlife, as does dad, but we don’t believe in the religious heaven and stuff.

“I’m sure they did. I have a feeling Eleanor brought her right to the house and sat her at the kitchen table to catch up over coffee.”

Now there’s the smile I’ve become so accustomed to over the years. “I bet you’re right. I bet Grandma Shaddix is there, too, and they’re having coffee like you said. I could see that happening.”

It was a happy picture in my mind, Eleanor, Barb, and Jeanette sitting around the old round table, in the mint green kitchen, having coffee. Oddly, it’s a picture I’ve seen, since it apparently happened more than once before the three of them passed. Hank would just take Grandpa Sullivan into the living room and they’d watch sports or something, the story goes.

“That was very good,” Jacoby remarked, wiping his mouth. His face was as tear-stained and chapped as dads. When his mom passed away, Grandma Sullivan stepped right in to fill in the gap, I was told. I think they just got closer after that and I’m glad for it. “Well, this is always the awkward part.”

Indeed, I could not disagree. We were done eating and I was ready to go home, but there were too many people here for that. In their usual quiet, forget we’re here fashion, the church ladies were dealing with empty plates, dishing up leftovers and everything else. We had been well cared for in the last few days and I was dreading tomorrow.

“We’ll send the leftovers home with you,” one of the ladies said, and Grandpa Sullivan nodded, his face drawn. I can only imagine his pain at losing his wife of so many years.

I watched as my cousin Mariah came over to me, her wife Marla Sullivan at her side. They’d only been married about a year, since they graduated from college last year. Both were elementary school teachers here in HB and I stood to hug them.

“We’re going to head out,” Mariah said, and I nodded. “But we’ll be in Irvine on Wednesday to help you guys with the yard, okay?”

“I appreciate it. I’m glad I got to see you.”

With that, they were gone and I settled back into my chair. It’s time to go to the house and try to relax, I thought. But I knew I had to wait just a bit longer before I could leave. With a sigh, I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my face; it was going to be a long few days.

1

Even though my mom was very religious, I am not. Naturally, her funeral was very religious, since that’s what she’d have wanted, but I wished we could’ve had a non-religious ceremony. I participated as little as was polite and dad told me not to worry, but I still did. Several relatives were quick to point out that I didn’t pray or participate in the other religious parts of the funeral. I thanked them for their concern then politely walked away. I’m sure I’m still the talk of the family, though now it’s for my assumed atheism rather than being gay, being married, and having given birth to my youngest child. Oh, and I had a child before her through a surrogate.

Dad had warned me, of course, that some of his relatives were still alive and well and would be attending the funeral. Naturally, the ones that don’t like me are the ones still living and I tried my hardest to avoid them. Some people are just impossible to avoid, however, and I let them say their piece.

“Oh Jack,” I muttered, loosening my tie. I shed my suit coat, placing it neatly on our bed. I miss our farm and can’t wait to get back. Being closer to family is more important right now, though. In the end, Jack and I decided not to move back to California. We’re settled in Iowa and coming out here once or twice a year is good enough for us. “What am I going to do without my mom?”

He took me into his arms and simply held me. The house seemed cold today, as I stood with no shirt on, and I shivered a bit. My husband, to an extent, knows how I feel; we lost his mom when Eliza was still in high school. But every loss is different and I’m sure he knows that as well.

“You just take it day by day,” he advised me, rubbing my back. “Because any more than that and it gets to be too much. Every day going to be hard, Slim, but eventually, it will get better. For now, don’t focus on the future, focus on today. Figure out how to get through today and then get through tonight. We’ll do it together, okay? We’ve got the kids, too, and that will help. Think about little Ava or think about Corey and Rhiannon.”

I knew the grandkids would be great distractions in the coming days, though it didn’t help much. Mom wanted to be here when Eliza had her third child and she almost made it. With two months to go before the baby is born, mom almost got her wish.

“Mom wanted to see her great grandchild born, you know. She was so close, with just two months to go. She loved the ultrasound pictures from last week, remember? When she spotted the gender, but kept it a secret because she knew Eliza and Clayton don’t want to know. At least she knows if it’s a boy or a girl, I guess, but she wanted to see the baby.”

Jacoby let me ramble, even though none of that would bring my mother back. I’d had some strange dreams the last few days, mostly me and mom talking, and I knew she was okay. I believe that people can communicate from beyond the grave, and I think these dreams prove me right. We’re always sitting on a bench by the beach, down my Ruby’s, and we just talk about every day stuff like we always used to.

“She wasn’t ready to go yet, I know that much. She’s been coming to me in my dreams and we talk. She said the cancer just got far too aggressive and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was time for her to go, even if she didn’t want to. She said she’s watching over us and that we have nothing to worry about in that sense. But it doesn’t bring her back, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t, but it’s good to have those talks with her,” Jacoby said, as we sat on the bed. I was exhausted all at once and my breathing still wasn’t quite right. “Why don’t you get into something more comfortable and have a breathing treatment? You’re welcome to sleep, you know.”

I nodded, as he helped me into my pajamas. I barely stayed awake for the breathing treatment and then I finally drifted to sleep, hoping to find some manner of peace.

***

I slept for around three hours and when I awoke, the sun was setting. I hated fall for the shorter days, but the sunset was pretty over the ocean. I still miss our farm and the sunsets out there, but for now, the ocean brings a strange sort of comfort.

“How did you sleep?” Jacoby asked, as I made my way downstairs, rubbing my eyes. My short hair was sticking up all over the place and I settled my glasses on my nose.

“Pretty well,” I admitted, joining my family in the living room. I settled onto the couch next to my dad and felt his arm around my shoulders. The gesture was welcome, because I knew he was hurting more than I was. “How are you holding up, dad?”

He shrugged, as my sister Kelly brought coffee in. Mom always had trays sitting around for coffee or eating in the living room and they brought back memories, of course. I took a deep breath to ward off any emotions and accepted a steaming mug from my sister.

“I’ve always wondered why people drink coffee in times like this,” Kelly mused, sitting next to Katie on the love seat. Their husbands seemed to have left, though I understood. No doubt, both have to work tonight and they need to get some sleep first. “Thad has to work tonight, Jim. He’s home sleeping right now.”

“That’s fine,” I said, as Katie nodded. “I assume Myles has to work tonight as well?”

She nodded again. “Yep. The life of a house supervisor, I guess. He’s expecting a busy night, he said, and Thad said he’s expecting ICU to be busy as well.”

The nurse thing runs in the family, if you haven’t noticed. Kelly and Katie are both nurses at UC Irvine, though they’ve cut back to part time. Their husbands are also nurses, which doesn’t surprise me. Thad moved to ICU a few years ago and I think that was the best move he ever made. Charge nurse suites him, I find.

“I was glad the guys were all there,” my dad remarked, sipping at his coffee. “It was nice to see them.”

My friends and their families make quite a crowd on their own. Most of their kids are, of course, grown by now, but it was still nice to see them all. We’ve been as close as brothers for years, despite the little gap while I was missing down here.

“I was glad, too. Hard to believe the kids are growing so quickly.”

Dad nodded. “I know. It was good to see the kids, though, you know? I think everyone is doing well.”

“I know. I’m really proud of them all. Some are in college, some work, some are married or engaged, but overall, things are going well.”

We fell silent after that. Mom was always good at these moments, when the small talk ran out. She knew what to say or do to bring the conversation back. Now, we all watched each other waiting for someone to say or do something, but no one did.

“Well, I suppose. I should get back home. I have tomorrow off yet but I need to do some laundry,” Kelly said, when her coffee was gone. “If you guys need me, just call me.”

That seemed to start everyone moving and soon, it was just me, dad, and Jacoby. It was odd to think that mom wasn’t just upstairs in bed sleeping or getting a treatment. Up until last week, home healthcare came twice daily to give her chemo, even if it didn’t help. Cancer still isn’t curable after all these years, but they are close. Science had figured out how to cure a couple of the less deadly cancers, but mom didn’t get that lucky.

“Silly question, but is anyone hungry?” Jacoby asked, collecting empty cups. “I mean, there’s quite a bit of food left over from--dinner.”

I caught the pause in his voice and I knew he was trying to be nice and not remind us of the day’s events. I didn’t want to eat, but figured I should just so I didn’t get sick. I remember when my daughter Penelope passed away; I couldn’t eat after that and finally ended up in the hospital.

“I suppose I could eat something.”

Dad and I sometimes do that, speaking in unison without trying. Jacoby nodded, heading to the kitchen, and I soon heard pots and pans moving around. The chicken was good and the salads, bars, and cakes were good as well.

“I miss her, Jim.”

What could I do but nod? “I miss her, too, dad. I know that you—“

“No, we miss her the same, I think. Yes, she was my wife and therefore the relationship was different, but you are hurting just like me. I don’t think we can put grief in categories, really. Everyone is different, I know, but she was your mom and my wife. It’s not easy for you even if you lost Eleanor first.”

He was right, of course. Losing Eleanor first hadn’t made this any easier, even if both went from illness. Mom died at home, Eleanor at Creighton. But losing mom wasn’t any easier this time around.

“I know. It seems I’ve had so much loss in my life, but that didn’t prepare me for mom. Losing a child hurts just as much, but it doesn’t lessen how I feel right now.”

“I know. I’m sure Penny and Eleanor are watching down on you, though, no matter what. That, and now Penny’s got all three of her grandmothers up there to run with.”

That brought me some comfort, at least, knowing that she’s got family to play with. She never got to grow up, but I imagine that, wherever she is, she’s being well cared for.

“I bet they’re spoiling her rotten, all three of them.”

Dad started to stand and I was quick to give him a hand. His health is good, but his joints have started to stiffen up with age. The man is 91 after all, and at that age, he’s not really going to run any marathons. He did recently learn that he’s got arthritis in his hips and back, but declined any surgery; he doesn’t want to deal with it at his age.

“You know that you and Jacoby will inherit the house, right?” he asked, and I nodded, beginning to worry. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not getting any younger, either.”

“I know, but I think you’ve got many years left in you, dad,” I told him, handing him his cane. If he’d get his right hip replaced, he’d feel better, but he’s stubborn. “Where you heading?”

“Just to the kitchen. Figured I better get a head start so I make it in time,” he joked, causing us both to laugh. It was nice to have laughter in the house, even if it didn’t seem appropriate; mom would’ve appreciated it. “Looks like you married a regular chef.”

“If you call reheating leftovers chef work, sure,” I responded, and dad laughed, as he slowly lowered himself to his chair. We’d put a cushion on it recently to see if that would help the pain in his hip. In the long run, I intend to talk him into a hip replacement; we can stay a bit longer to help him recover. “Hip bothering more than usual tonight?”

Dad nodded. “How’s your heart?” he asked and I shrugged.

“It’s fine. Dr. Adams doesn’t want to do anything right now so the medication is working.”

See, a few years ago, my drug abuse caught up to me once again. Apparently long-term abusers of cocaine, such as myself, eventually develop heart disease and other heart problems. I’d had problems with an irregular rhythm off and on, but now it’s serious. So far, medication is keeping things under control, but my doctor has suggested a pace maker in the future if things get worse.

“So no pacer right now?” he asked, and I smiled when he said pacer. He’s been hanging around us far too long, I think, and now he’s picking up the lingo.

“Not right now, but if he brings it up again, I promise to get one this time.”

“In that case, I’ll go in for that hip replacement the doctor has been bugging me about.”

I had to laugh as dad smirked at me. He knew all too well that my next check up could result in surgery and he knew how to get me to cooperate. Jacoby just shook his head at us, but he was smiling. He knew how stubborn we were and he knew better than to get in the middle of things. We’d do things on our own time and apparently, now was the time. I looked over at dad, who had a smug smile on his face and shook my head. He knew he’d win the battle eventually and he hadn’t been wrong.

2

My family is one mysterious unit. My parents are both men and my dad Jimmy was, once upon a time, able to get pregnant. Now that I’m an adult, I understand what happened: he was born female inside and male outside. Normally, such men are infertile, but dad wasn’t and he had one shot at pregnancy. I’ve always felt there was more to the story (if he wasn’t infertile, then shouldn’t he have had the same shot at pregnancy as women?) but no one will tell me the full story.

Now, I’m married to my best friend, Clayton Smithland, and am expecting our third child. We hadn’t intended on having kids so our first was a surprise, but we loved having Corey in our lives and planned for the second and third. I didn’t think I wanted to be a mom, but I love it. Rhiannon and Corey keep us busy, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m home!”

I smiled and kissed my husband, then grabbed my purse. “I’m off.”

Clayton nodded, then rubbed my tummy. “I’ll see you when you get home. Any pictures?”

“On the fridge,” I said, pointing to the plain white fridge in our kitchen. “See you later tonight, probably after midnight.”

Once again, as happened when I was pregnant with my first two, my boss wanted me to start cutting my hours back around now. I refused as I did the first two times but Uncle Matt was still hounding me. I took over the second tattoo shop four years ago and it behooves me to be there full time no matter what. I have a feeling he’s going to meet me at work tonight as usual, review my schedule, then tell me not to work past seven.

Sure enough, when I pulled up to Jaded Angel II twenty minutes later, Matt Sanders was waiting for me. He was still handsome, still over six feet tall and still covered in ink. His hair was greyer these days and he moved a little slower, but he was still an amazing tattoo artist.

“I know, I know, Matt, so can it,” I barked at him, waddling into the shop. I myself have an impressive collection of ink and after this baby, I’m going to lose the baby weight and start on my stomach and ribs. “I’m not cutting back until my doctor tells me to and he said I was fine to keep going for now.”

He raised his large, calloused hands in surrender, following me inside. I can easily look him in the eye, considering I’m 6’5” and that seems to put us on even ground. Once we were inside, I pulled him into my office and almost threw him into a chair. Sometimes, working for family has its benefits.

“Matt, I appreciate the concern, but I am fine. If the doctor was worried, I’d be worried and so would you. But you know darned good and well that everything is going fine and the doctor is not worried right now.”

“I know, but I worry, okay? How are you doing this time around?”

Settling into my black leather office chair, I shrugged, pulling my appointment book up on the computer. “I’m fine. My back hurts and I wish it was over with, but otherwise, things are fine.”

My uncle watched me for a moment, as I made some notes, sent some emails, and I wondered what he was going to say.

“Clayton’s excited and you’re not.”

Sighing, I dropped my hands from the keyboard and nodded. “Exactly. When I had Corey, our first, we weren’t ready and we knew it, but we loved him. We planned for Rhiannon and we love her. But something about this one just doesn’t excite me. Maybe once I’ve given birth that will change, but right now I’m just ready for it to be over. I’ve been told this is normal for the third pregnancy, that it just becomes routine and the excitement wanes, but I feel bad.”

He nodded, leaning back in his chair a bit. I knew he wanted the whole story, but I didn’t know how much to tell him; some of it is kind of personal.

“When I got pregnant with Corey it was because we weren’t responsible, it just sort of happened. Each child has been planned since, but I just can’t get excited for this one. It’s causing some strain in our marriage.”

“It happened with Val like that the second time,” he told me and I looked at him, surprised. “We planned the first one, as you know. When Madeline was two, Val found out she was pregnant. We’d taken every measure on earth to prevent that, because we wanted at least three years between the two. But we were ready and while it wasn’t a lot of fun at first, it was good the way we did it. What do Corey and Rhiannon think about their pending sibling?”

I shrugged. “I think they’re excited. I don’t know how much Rhiannon understands, but she knows there’s a baby in my tummy and she talks about what she wants, but that’s about it.”

“Did Clayton want to go through with a pregnancy this time around?”

I looked to the wedding photo on my desk, before I had full sleeves. Clayton and I were happy, smiling, something that was missing of late. I had Corey’s fifth grade school picture on my desk and it was astounding how much like his father he truly was. Rhiannon’s kindergarten picture was next to that and I saw a lot of me in her.

“He did and so did I, once we’d decided we were going to go for a third child. But I’m kind of having my doubts now.”

Matt crossed his long legs and regarded me for a moment, his still-muscular arms bulging a bit as he crossed them. “Has that affected the marriage at all?”

I shrugged. “Yes and no. He’s far more excited than me, of course, and that’s caused a bit of strain. But over all, we’re still good. We just have some moments where he gets excited about something baby related and I’m just kind of ‘meh’ on the whole thing.”

Matt nodded, standing. His hazel eyes were bright and he flashed me that charming smile that had wooed Val all those years ago. “You’ll figure it out. You might just be getting cold feet at the last minute, which happens.”

“I know, but it’s frustrating, that’s all. Thanks for stopping by.”

He nodded, then closed the door behind him. Once it had clicked shut, I slumped down a bit in my chair and rubbed my face. I know that we’ll get through this, but it doesn’t feel like it.

“Liza? Your five o’clock is here.”

I looked up at Star, my newest artist and nodded. Time had gotten away from me once again and I slowly stood, waddling out front to meet the girl. We shook hands and when I saw her smile I relaxed; it was time to focus on work and put family concerns behind me.

***

That night, I crawled into bed around 0100, listening to Clayton snore. It brought a smile to my face when his arm wound around me and held my stomach, rubbing it lightly. The baby was active right now and all at once, I felt excitement creep into me. I know we’ve got time on our hands, but all at once, I want to hold my baby. With a smile on my face, I drifted to sleep, hoping this excitement would still be with me in the morning.

“Hon? I’m off to work.”

I groaned, stretching a bit, before I opened my eyes. I couldn’t help but smile as my husband’s amazing chocolate eyes looked at me. He was dressed in his usual jeans and a polo shirt (red today) and had his bag over his shoulder.

“Okay. I work at noon as usual today, so I’ll be home around seven or so. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, kissing me. He left the room and I smiled, checking the time; it was just nine, but I felt rested. Being pregnant has never exhausted me like it does some women for some reason and I was glad.

“Better get a shower,” I muttered, sitting up. My stomach seemed rounder this morning and I wished, again, that things were closer to the end. I’ve never gone early, though, and I don’t want to go eight weeks early. I know that’s probably acceptable, but I worry, you know? I’m only 34 weeks and while everything is fine I don’t want an early delivery. “Then I’ve got a full calendar today.”

Yes, it’s completely normal for me to chatter at myself, if you were wondering. I’m told I get that from Jacoby, and I’ve caught him doing it more than once. He and dad are excited about their fourth grandchild.

When my shower was finished, I got dressed, noting that our cat was watching me intently. This is her early morning ‘I’m hungry’ stare.

“Ariel, how can you be hungry? You’re over 20 pounds and you can live off your own body fat for a week, I swear,” I admonished her. She mewed at me and how can I resist that? I’m a sucker for a hungry cat, I guess. “Oh, fine. Let me get dressed and I’ll feed you.”

My morning was in full swing from there, it seemed. My maternity top felt tight this morning and I frowned; it was new and I wanted it to wear longer than a week! Resisting the urge to cry (damn hormones), I fed the cat, put my hair up and grabbed some breakfast. This pregnancy needs to end soon because I’m going to go crazy otherwise.

***

“I’m taking off.”

I nodded to Star as she gathered her purse and keys and headed out. The night shift was coming in and I’d be heading out, too. We close at midnight, but I try to be home around seven or eight so I can see the kids before bed. It doesn’t always happen, but I do try.

“Okay, Bette, you’re in charge. Call me if you need me,” I told the young girl next to me. She’d been with Jaded Angel since its second year of business at the original location and I know I can trust her. “Matt wants the books tonight, too, if you get a chance. It’s month end and all that. Erin and Billy have openings tonight, so if they don’t get booked, have them do inventory so I can do ordering tomorrow.”

“Cool. Go, mama, and have a good night.”

Laughing, I made sure I had everything and stepped out into the warm night air. It’s only August but it feels like July back in Iowa. We get humidity rarely out here and it usually precedes rain; sure enough, the sky was dark and lightning flashed in the distance. It made me think of grandma and how she hated storms. She was a California girl through and through and as such wasn’t used to the storms. When her and grandpa would come visit us in Iowa, the summer storms always scared her and she never got any sleep. I wonder if she’ll be able to sleep tonight, wherever she is.

“Hey you,” Clayton said, when I walked in the door ten minutes later. He brought me into a hug, smiling, as he kissed the top of my head. “How was work?”

I yawned, noting that he had supper ready to go. The kids were setting the table and I smiled. “It was fine. I had a couple of under age kids I had to turn away and one kid got a tattoo for her 18th birthday. Otherwise, it was pretty run of the mill and I got really good at heart tattoos again today.”

He laughed, since he knew I hated cliché tats; it’s why I became an artist, to keep people from doing clichéd things like that. “Well, come eat, honey. I know you’re probably exhausted but you have to eat before you go to bed.”

“You’re too good to me,” I told him, as he led me to the table. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He laughed, placing a pan of chicken on the table and looked at me. “You tripped over my big feet and fell flat on your face right before your interview with that magazine that never hired either of us.”

I had to laugh, remembering the incident well. This was truly the man of my dreams; I love him and I can’t picture myself with anyone else.

3

Why is the day after a funeral such a letdown? I mean, funerals are never good, even if the person can be out of misery now, but it seems that the day after the funeral is more of a letdown than anything else. I don’t know if it’s because people have been caring for us so much leading up to and including the funeral or what. The only worse thing is when we go back to Iowa.

“It’s real, isn’t it?”

Maybe that’s why the day after is such a letdown; reality sinks in. “Yeah, Slim, it’s real. I wish I could say it wasn’t, but it is.”

The problem here is that we don’t have work to distract ourselves. We are on extended vacation, since we came out here to care for his mom. When we go back in a couple of weeks, that will change, but I need to keep him distracted now and wish we had work to help with that.

“I miss her.”

I nodded, wrapping my husband in my arms and trying to comfort him. Of course, he could not be comforted and I knew that, but I tried anyway. This scene is so eerie because we laid together like this in mom’s house after her funeral. The difference here is that we’re not selling the Sullivan home for many years to come so we have to stay here and deal with things; after mom’s funeral, we had to sort her house out then get it ready to sell.

“I wish we could just go back to Iowa and be home again,” Jimmy lamented, his voice cracking. “I know we’re going back soon, but I want to go home now.”

“I do, too, Slim, but we’re going to be here a few more weeks.”

He nodded, holding me tight. “I know. It’s just that right now, I just miss my mom.”

We were quiet after that, listening to the ocean; years of being at work between six and seven meant that sleeping in was a thing of the distant past. The last week or so, someone would have to be up between five and six to bathe his mom and make sure she was ready when home healthcare got here or make sure she got to an early morning appointment. The last couple of weeks, we had to take turns during the night to make sure her morphine was full.

I felt the need to say something, but nothing came to mind for some reason. I could hear Jimmy’s dad moving around and knew we should go help him. He’s not incapable of independent ambulation, but with his bad hip, it’s not as easy.

“I’ll go help your dad,” I told my husband, kissing his cheek. He nodded, staring at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom, while I ducked out of bed. Joe was in the hallway, dressed and ready for the day, and greeted me with a smile. “We heard you moving out here. Jimmy’s still in bed, I think he needs some time.”

His dad nodded, taking my arm. “I know. I thought about staying in bed, but I was never any good at that. Barb always used to kid me when we were first married you know. She said I should take advantage of sleeping in before we have kids, because I won’t get any sleep after that. She was right, of course, but I just never could stay down. When I call the doctor today and give into that hip surgery, it’s going to be tough for me. I realize I won’t feel like moving much the first few days, but after that, I will want to be up and moving.”

We were halfway down the stairs now and I could see how painful it was for him to walk. This hip replacement was going to be good for him, I could already tell.

“Your desire to be up and moving is going to be to your advantage, actually. Most people don’t want to move after surgery, because it hurts. But if you’re willing the PT gals will have a much easier time of things with you.”

I settled him into the kitchen a few minutes later and got the coffee going. A creak on the stairs revealed my husband, freshly showered and dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. He didn’t look ready to be up, but he was up and settled at the table, running his hands through his graying hair. I remember when he had black hair, then he let the dye wash out and went with his natural reddish-brown. He still looks handsome to me, though, and I kissed the top of his head impulsively.

“What do we want for breakfast?” I asked, knowing that Joe had a doctor to call.

“I’m not very hungry,” Jimmy replied, waving his hand at me. “Just some toast is good for me.”

To fight or not to fight the food battle with him? I want him to eat, as I don’t want a repeat of Penny’s death when he was tossed in the hospital for dehydration and not eating. In the end, I fried up some eggs, made some toast and got him to eat one egg.

“Well, I’d better call my doctor,” Joe said, after taking his medications. I grabbed the phone for him and dialed (his eyes aren’t what they used to be, either) and waited while he spoke to the nurse.

It took about ten minutes and Joe had his physical appointment and surgical appointment made. Naturally, I was worried, but I knew he was going to pull through just fine. And once the recovery period was over, he’d be happier and healthier.

***

The morning of surgery dawned early and I knew I was going to need a cattle prod to get Jimmy going. He’s not good in the early morning, despite our years working at the hospital and he’s worried about his dad. Add to that that this surgery just added time to our stay out here (Sean understood and said we had enough PTO), and he’s really going to need motivation to get going.

“I’m going to make sure your dad’s up,” I told him, as he moved sleepily toward the shower. He nodded, his face drawn with what I assumed was worry for his dad. I moved into the hallway and across to his dad’s room, knocking on the door.

“Come in.”

That man is always perky early in the morning and I’ve never figured out how. “Just making sure you were up. Jimmy’s in the shower.”

He nodded, moving more slowly than usual. It was raining outside and I knew that affected him more than anything. “I’ll be glad when this is over. I know it’s going to hurt for a while after surgery, but anything has to be better than this.”

I helped him into the shower, watching the clock. We had to be at check-in by six and he wasn’t moving very quickly today; we’d be advised to grab a wheelchair at the hospital. I did question a hip replacement at this age, but he’s otherwise healthy and this will only improve his quality of life.

“I’m ready.”

I had long ago stopped being shy around my father-in-law and that was no different now. I helped him with his remaining morning tasks, making sure he had only a small sip of water with his approved medications, then took him into his bedroom. Jimmy was waiting and we switched duties so I could shower and get dressed.

“Are we ready?” Jimmy asked, once I was downstairs. His dad had a wheelchair, which I’d forgotten about and he was helpfully loaded into it ready to go. “Let’s go, then.”

It seemed to take no time at all to get to UCI hospital, and I wondered if Priscilla and Randi were working today. It was early yet, but both had promised to stop by, as had Eliza, Clayton and other family. If everything went according to plan, Joe would be going to a rehab center in a few days and home in about three weeks. He’s only going to the center because of the stairs in the house and it was his choice, since he can get everything right there instead of having to travel.

“We’ll be waiting when you’re done and then I think Jimmy plans to spend the night,” I explained, as we helped him out of the car. It was chilly today but the rain had stopped for now, at least. “The floor has both our numbers, plus Kelly and Katie, so someone will be available around the clock.”

He smiled, settling into his chair. “You worry too much, guys, but I appreciate it. I just want to get this over with.”

We all kind of laughed at that, because who could blame him? It took only a few minutes to get him checked in, prepped, and then it was time to wait. I hated waiting, since I didn’t sit still well and it gave me time to check out the surgical area. I’m far too familiar with these areas considering Jimmy’s health history and I’m also far too critical of other areas outside of Creighton.

“Good morning guys. Are you ready to go?” a nurse asked and Joe nodded. “I’m going to give you a light sedative, just to relax you, and then we’ll head in.”

“Sounds good.”

Jimmy hugged his dad, holding him for a bit longer than usual before I finally pried him away. From there, Joe went in and we decided to head upstairs for breakfast. The staff had our phone numbers, so nothing would go by unnoticed and his dad was strong enough for surgery.

“Don’t worry, honey, he’ll be fine,” I told him, as the elevator droned upward. I’d texted everyone that Joe was in and that I’d report more after surgery. “You’re dad is strong and the doctor approved the procedure.”

He nodded, his blue eyes troubled. “I know. But we just lost mom and I think this is too soon. I know he needs to have this done, but I don’t want to lose him, too. I know he’s strong and the doctor approved of this, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, Jack.”

I couldn’t say much to that, because I understood where he was coming from. We both walked into the cafeteria and grabbed trays, looking over the selection. Hospital food was pretty universal, but Creighton always had good food and it looked like UCI was no different.

“Did Cilla have to work today?” I asked, hoping to take his mind off the procedure.

“I think so. She’s flying, too, I’m pretty sure. But she and Randi both promised to stop up and see dad this afternoon or evening.”

So much for taking his mind off things, I guess. Though I suppose my question did kind of ask for that answer. We settled at a table near a window and I realized, ironically, we could see the landing pad. Their primary unit was taking off and Jimmy shook his head.

“I’d hate to be in that chopper; what a bad take off. I could do so much better,” he muttered and I smiled, watching the chopper. It had smoothed out and was doing fine now, as far as I could see. “Well, that’s better, but I need to have a chat with that pilot. Good grief.”

I had to keep from laughing, considering he’d caught the attention of a few people around us. Uniforms haven’t changed much in the last few years, and I recognized not only EMTs and paramedics, but a couple of flight folks as well. One of the folks in a flight suit stood, empty tray in hand and settled at our table, leveling Jimmy with a look. She looked to be in her late 20s, with long black hair tied into a ponytail, slim, tall, with brown eyes and a dark complexion.

“Think you can do better, sir?” she asked him, a challenge clear in her tone. “I’ve been flying for about five years now as a nurse and I trust all my pilots. You ever flown one of those beasts?”

He smirked at her, holding out his hand for a firm handshake. “Jimmy Shaddix. RN, flight RN, paramedic, EMT B and I, and pilot. I have flown Creighton One for over twenty years as pilot and more than that on the flight crew. I still fly for recreation when I can, so yes, I’ve flown ‘one of those beasts’ and yes I can do better than that. Lucky for you, I’m returning to Omaha in a couple of weeks.”

I tried to hide my face, because I was going to burst out laughing pretty soon. When Jimmy has his skills challenged, he doesn’t take it too kindly. The young girl leveled her stare at him before she stood up; they would easily match each other for height and I actually became kind of nervous.

“Too bad; we’ve got an opening for a part time pilot and being a flight nurse would help. I’d say you should apply, but since you’re going back, I guess there’s no point.”

With that she walked off, to the whistles of her fellow co-workers. Rather than being embarrassed, my husband smirked and I finally let my laughter out. It really is too bad we’re going home once Joe is safe on his own; I’d love to see Jimmy show her up.

4

I heard through the grapevine (that being the woman who confronted him in the cafeteria) that my dad was bragging about his piloting skills. Sadly, he saw one of our newer pilots take off (she’s not very good and on the verge of being fired) and mentioned that he could do better. Considering that he and dad are heading back to Iowa soon, it’s a shame he can’t apply out here. As it is, I’ve got a new pilot, Owen Marks (he’s actually Grandpa Hank’s great nephew), and he seems to be doing well so far.

“Where are we going?” I asked, as I strapped in. I had my helmet on and everything was go for this pick up.

“The 405 south,” Owen said over the little speaker in my headset. “Nine car crash, multiple serious injuries; we won’t be the only team on scene.” I had to remain professional, but I wanted to say ‘duh?’, of course we won’t be the only team on scene!

Owen set the chopper down with ease and skill. As soon as it was safe, my team and I were on the ground, heading for the wounded. I could hear the Jaws of Life in use on several cars and couldn’t begin the count the number of personnel on scene right now. My team and I jumped in where we could and soon, our chopper was loaded with two patients and we were on our way.

“Good work out there, Cilla,” Owen praised and I smiled, as he communicated with base. “Irvine One to base.”

We had landed in no time and I reported off as quickly as I could before we were in the air again. Once again, Owen made quick work of flight time and landed perfectly. He might be twenty two years old, but he knows his stuff.

“Go!” I shouted, as we got our last two patients in. From here, the ground units could handle it.

“We’re down,” Owen said ten minutes later and started going through his landing procedures.

Once my patients had been turned over to the ER I went to change. It was a good feeling knowing that all of my patients had a better than 60% chance of making it, which was always nice to hear.

“So, I see Owen out there working with the chopper; bet he can’t remember how to power it down,” a voice snapped and I turned, frowning. Marissa Miller was changing as well and had a smirk on her face. “If he thinks he’s going to show me up he’s got another thing coming.”

“Let’s not do anything stupid, shall we? Those choppers are pricey and I like my job thanks,” I retorted leaving the locker room. “Besides, Owen’s a much better pilot than you’ll ever be. Three years of flying and he’s never had an accident; can’t say that for you.”

With that, I left, returning to the ER to wait and see what needed doing. Marissa had crashed a helicopter two years ago and was lucky no one died. The weather was perfect and the crash was put down to pilot error; one more of those and she’s fired and loses her license. I have a feeling her time here is limited now that they have Owen. I am confident that Marissa is out of here for good very, very soon.

***

“Mommy?”

I looked into Ava’s room later that night and smiled; she was rubbing her eyes but she looked spooked.

“What’s up honey?”

“I sawed a ghost.”

Nodding, I took her into my arms, kneeling down to her level. Believing in ghosts was yet another way Jimmy and I were almost identical.

“Who was it?” I asked, noting that my question seemed to relax her. Randi is very much like Jacoby and thinks ghosts do not exist.

“I don’t know; I think it was grandma.”

“Grandma Sullivan?” I asked, and she nodded, her black/brown hair falling in her face a bit. “It might well have been. Did you know that, sometimes, when people pass away, they decide to watch over their loved ones? I bet Grandma Sullivan is just your guardian angel now. That means she’ll watch over you and keep you safe.”

“That’s good, then?” she asked and I nodded, picking her up. Her little yawn indicated that it was still bedtime and once she was tucked in, I realized it was just after eleven at night. “Good night mommy, I love you.”

“Good night Ava, I love you, too.”

I closed the door quietly behind me, heading into the room Randi and I shared. When we got married, we realized that we had quite different decorating styles. We started with an apartment in Omaha until I got my shit together and then we had a rental house in Oklahoma for a while. In those places, we compromised when we could and did our best to live with it. But when we bought the house, we divided it up into rooms. The bedroom is all Randi and I rather like it, surprisingly. The walls are black (a big sell for me), the trim is purple (also awesome), and she made red bedding work in here as well. The hardwood floor looks a bit out of place, but it’s not so bad once you get used to it.

“What did Ava want?” Randi asked, putting her book aside. We’re both avid readers and make sure Ava gets a bedtime story every night.

“Just a bad dream. I told her to think good thoughts and tucked her back in.”

The look in Randi’s grey eyes suggested she knew that wasn’t the entire truth. “In other words, she saw a ghost and you told her a story about guardian angels and whatnot. The door was wide open, Cilla, I heard it all. Why do you persist with her belief in ghosts?”

I sighed, wiping a hand down my face as I shed my pajamas and crawled into bed naked. I love my wife, but her inability to accept some of my beliefs is starting to wear thin.

“Randi, when we got married, I thought we this worked out. I believe in some things that you don’t and vice versa. We agreed that those few things would not be cause for strife in our marriage, kids or no kids. Why do you always bring it up?”

She looked me right in the eyes and sighed. “Because I want what’s best for our child, Cilla. If she goes around believing in ghosts, she’s going to scare other kids and she’ll never be able to function when she gets older.”

My mouth dropped open at that one. “Hello, who in this room believes in ghosts? I’m doing just fine, thank you very much. It was not my belief in ghosts that made me do drugs or become an alcoholic or anything else like that. It’s perfectly fine to believe in ghosts, Randi, and you know it. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean it’s wrong. You believe in God and Heaven and all that and I don’t come down on you for it. I told our daughter one way of looking at things and I get berated for it. You told her about Heaven and God and stuff but I never said a word. What’s with the double standard?”

My wife was quiet for a moment, then she brushed her long black hair out of her face. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make assumptions like that and it is a double standard, you’re right.”

I nodded. “Yes, it is, and I’m tired of it. From now on, you tell her what you believe and I’ll tell her what I believe, deal?”

We shook on it and I nodded, drawing the covers over my body. I had the day off tomorrow and had planned to spend most of it on the beach with some friends. Ava had preschool in the morning, so I planned to have her come along after that. We also needed to go visit grandpa and see how he was doing. Hoping for a good day tomorrow, I drifted to sleep, snuggled into my wife.

***

Morning always comes so damn early. Since Randi has to be to work at seven, that leaves me to get Ava up and ready for the 0830 preschool van. With a yawn, I slapped the snooze button once again, resigning myself to getting up.

“Meow.”

“I’m up, I’m up,” I complained as Bam-Bam (don’t ask) nudged me to get up. No doubt he was hungry and I sighed; I want a dog. We had a dog when we lived in Omaha and Oklahoma, but she had to be put to sleep when we moved here, since she got too sick to ever get well again. I’d been campaigning for a new dog, but with dad’s dog allergy, Randi isn’t willing to get one. “You’ll get fed when I get fed.”

With that, I moved to the shower, knowing I had only a few minutes before Ava would come barreling in, wanting to watch some TV before breakfast. We had made it a point not to teach her how to run the TV, but she still figured it out. We said okay to Sesame Street (yep, still around) but today our schedule is tight and I don’t want a fight on my hands.

“Mommy!”

I stepped out of the shower and wrapped a bathrobe around myself, glancing toward the door. Ava came flying in, her long black/brown hair trailing behind her in tangles, her green footed pajamas half unzipped and her favorite teddy bear clutched in her arms.

“We gotta keep moving this morning, Baby Girl, so no TV, okay? Let’s get dressed!”

She frowned, but ran back to her room as I threw some track pants and a t-shirt on. I wasn’t doing anything special until beach time, so why get dressed up? I checked on my daughter, noting that she was doing better getting dressed: everything matched today.

“Can I wear sandals?”

I nodded, glad we didn’t have to worry about winter around here. I mean, it was only August, of course, but even in December, I don’t mind her wearing shorts and sandals to school. It can get cold here, but it doesn’t last, so there’s no need to over dress her.

“Okay, Baby Girl, let’s go!” I called, seeing the van pull up. I overslept a bit, but she’ll get food at school, so that’s one worry off my mind. “The van’s here!”

She hurried down the stairs, and I helped her into her backpack, making sure the permission slip was signed for a field trip next week. I had the day off so I could go along, and I was actually looking forward to it.

“By Baby Girl! Have a good day!”

She waved, then accepted help into the van. When the blue van was out of sight I sighed, then went back in to feed myself and the cat. Some days, like today, I want more kids. We had talked about adopting again, but things were shelved for now. Another friend was pregnant but she was keeping her baby, and Ava’s parents weren’t having any more kids for a long time. Frowning at my thoughts, I poured some food in Bam-Bam’s bowl, then got myself some cereal. I should really do my half of the housework this morning, before a busy beach day. I’d been slacking a bit lately and I needed to make it up to Randi.

“Okay, BB, let’s clean,” I muttered, trying to push thoughts of kids from my mind. That was something for Randi and me to talk about together and I didn’t want to come to any decisions without her. “Even if I hate cleaning.”

I grabbed the vacuum, laughing when the cat bolted from the room, and once it was on, I immersed myself in cleaning. It was always good for taking my off things and today was no exception. I managed to keep my thoughts solely on cleaning and I was glad; kids could wait.

When the house was clean, I checked the time; it was just mid-morning and Ava would be at school until around one. Bored, I grabbed my keys and headed out the car. Perhaps a visit with grandpa would cheer me up a bit. He’s doing well recovering from his hip surgery, and I’m eager to see if he can get home soon. He says the care home is fine, but he’s not eager to be a permanent resident by any means. I can’t blame him; I worked in a nursing home for a while, and while they serve a purpose, they’re not fun.

As I pulled into the care center parking lot, I found my mid drifting to my parents. Would they end up in a care facility at some point? I think Jimmy will, given that his memory problems are supposed to get worse over time and I bet he’ll get to be too much for dad. Of course, I don’t want that to happen and if it does, I hope it’s not for a long time. Shaking my head, I made my way inside, smiling when grandpa called for me; he was walking with the aides and looked like he was ready to run a marathon.

Embracing him, I watched him walk when we parted and smiled. I was glad to have him, and I hope we have him for a very, very long time.

It's so nice to have new voices, seeing this stage in the Shaddix family's lives not just from Jack and Jim, but the girls too. Understandable I guess since they are now grown up, with families of their own, but it was an unexpected move, and one I really liked.

Jimmy talking smack to that pilot was hilarious, I can see it perfectly, this hotshot girl thinking "what does this old man know about flying" and then him just putting her right in her place. Brilliant.

Just as an aside, couple of typos I noticed, angle instead of angel in that last chapter, and again in the first. Also C2, when Star tells Eliza her next appointment is in you've put "you're" instead of "your".

When I had idea #1, J&J were going to stay in California and Jimmy applied in order to show off, lol! But I still love that scene where he puts her in his place; she so deserved that one!

And I'm glad you like the other voices. I thought it would work, as people had asked about hearing from the girls. I am getting a lot better path worked out in my head and those other voices are going to be very important. Is it easy to follow who's who?

Thank you for letting me know about typos! I always go through these, but things are easy to miss (esp. those!) I will fix them asap!

Yeah I think it's easy enough to follow who's who once you've had a chapter from each of the girls and know where their lives are at now (which you get in Jimmy's chapter at the start) then it's a cinch.

That's good to know =). I had a hard time remember the order so I started labeling the files with the chapter # and the name (1Ji, etc.), so I wouldn't get confused, lol!

I'm going to be working on today's chapter and will try to get it up before work (which shouldn't be a problem...I have a couple of hours). Otherwise, after work!

5

October 8th, 2043

Dad is doing very well in his recovery from hip surgery. The care home discharged him today, after eight weeks (would have been six, but the doctor wanted two more weeks) and he’s doing so well. The replacement went well, he survived surgery and he’s walking well. We set up a bed downstairs for him, much to his protest, but the doctor said no stairs yet. PT will work with him on the stairs starting tomorrow, once he’s had his check up to make sure everything is in place. When he’s deemed able to be on his own again, Jacoby and I are heading for home.

“Welcome home,” I said, as he carefully walked in. He hated the walker he had, but until the doctor gave the go ahead for a cane, he was stuck. “We tried to make the living room look comfortable.”

He smiled, clearly just glad to be home. “Looks good to me; hopefully the doctor okays stairs tomorrow.”

“But in the mean time, you’ll be comfortable here,” I promised him, smiling.

“How did things go while I was gone?” he asked, settling into his recliner. He’s got one of those nifty lift chairs so he doesn’t have to bend so far to sit.

“Things were good. Priscilla reports that a problem co-worker has been fired and things here were fine as well. Clancy and Abba missed you, though,” I responded, as the cats hopped into his lap.

Dad looked at me, his blue eyes identical to mine. “You miss Creighton, don’t you?”

I can’t lie to my dad. “Of course we do. We’ve been there for over 30 years. But we wouldn’t trade this time for the world, trust me. We’re not leaving until you are able to be alone again, and even then we’re considering moving out here.”


Jacoby and I had talked this over last night and while things were still in flux, there was a chance of us moving in to take care of dad.

“What about the farm?” he asked, adjusting a bit. I’m sure it’s hard to get comfortable after hip surgery, as I’ve seen from dad the last few weeks.

I looked out the window, immediately homesick for our home out on the gravel in Iowa. “Sean P.’s daughter and her husband are watching it while we’re gone. But if we did move, someone would buy it,” I said, reaching for my laptop. I called up the latest pictures, as summer turned to fall in Iowa. “It’s really very pretty out there right now.”

Dad took the computer and flipped through the slide show as I looked out the window. There is some transition out here, as the temperatures are more up and down. September to October is mostly a cool down with a mini heat wave here and there. Right now, the trees at mom and dad’s are changing, since they planted something other than palm trees. But I still miss the changes at the farm, as our trees are bursting with orange and yellow and red.

“You guys should go back soon.”

I looked over at dad, snapping out of my thoughts and furrowed my brow. “We can’t leave you right now. I know Kelly, Katie, Randi, and Priscilla are here, but we said we’d stay through your hip recovery and we meant it.”

He smiled that ‘dad’ smile that I’d come to know so well over the years. “You can and I’ll be fine. The girls are here and your sisters, too. You guys need to go home, Jim, not because I don’t want you around but because you’re homesick. If you want to move out here, that’s fine, but make sure it’s what you want first. I’ll be fine, son, I promise.”

He had a point, I guess. I mean, we kind of wanted to stay for the birth of our grandchild, but we did talk about packing up and heading back. We didn’t get a return ticket because we didn’t know when we’d be going back. We’re not going to move out here right away, anyway, because we’d need to talk it over, decide about work and the farm and everything. But dad was right about us being homesick.

“We wouldn’t go right way, of course. But I’ll talk to Jacoby and see when he wants to head back. We just don’t want to leave you alone so soon, dad that’s all.”

“Don’t worry about me. You came out for your mom’s final weeks and now that she’s gone, you deserve the chance to head home. If you guys want to move out here, that’s fine. But don’t do anything unless you want to do it.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, because it would be so easy to say okay and go home. But there was no way could I leave my dad this soon after mom’s passing. I was saved momentarily by Jacoby coming in from the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” my husband asked, sitting next to me on the couch. He doesn’t often interrupt, so he must’ve sensed something.

“Uhm, nothing. I was just seeing what dad wanted for supper, that’s all; thought we’d order in tonight, you know?”

Dad shot me a look, but picked up the phone and ordered pizza. I took Jacoby upstairs and once we were alone, I ran a hand down my face, confusion no doubt clear on my features. As my husband faced me, his face indicated I should elaborate.

“Well, dad and I sat and talked once he was home, you know? He said that we should head home. I said we’d talk about it; maybe see when we wanted to. We’ve got a couple weeks before Eliza gives birth, but we need to decide if we want to stay for that and if we’re moving here.”

“We’ll talk about moving once we’re home,” he said, as he walked into the bathroom. I waited until he was finished in the bathroom and sighed. “But as to leaving, is your dad ready for that? I don’t want to leave him if he’s not ready. I know he’s got helpers, but we’re right here with no obligations, so we’d be perfect to stay and help.”


My husband was quite for a moment, but I sensed that we had the same thought process. “No. We’re not going back right now. Sean knows what’s going on and approved us for more leave, basically giving us our month plus bereavement. Let’s wait at least a week and see how things are going.”

“I agree,” I told him, but I wasn’t sure I was being entirely truthful. In a sense, I did agree, but part of me wanted to say yes to dad’s offer and skedaddle out of here and go home. I thought I wanted to come back to California, but after just these few weeks, I realize now that I am happy in Iowa. “I don’t want to move either. But you asked what dad and I had talked about and that’s it.”

My husband stepped in from the bathroom and I smiled. “I know your dad will protest, but let him protest,” he said, and I nodded. “But if he asks, what should we tell him?”

I shrugged. “A week or two? That will at least pacify him.”

He nodded, the same wistful, sad look on his face. We would never have said no to coming out here, of course, for mom’s final weeks. But we’re both so damn homesick and yet thinking of moving here…I don’t know what we’re thinking right now.

“We’ll plan our return trip first,” he told me, running a comb through his short grey hair. “From there, we’ll worry about whether or not we move.”

I nodded, hearing the doorbell. I hurried downstairs so dad wouldn’t have to get up. A quick glance into the living room showed that he was fine, reading a book to pass the time. I paid for the pizza, then took it into the kitchen. With a sigh, I thought about what dad had said; I was homesick and I wanted so badly to get back home.


***

There is no worse duty, outside perhaps of tending to one’s own family, then responding to a call involving your co-workers. Recall that I’ve been at Creighton for thirty five years; even though these are young, new co-workers, they’re still co-workers and it’s still hard for me to go to an accident scene involving them.

“Let’s hope it’s not as bad as it sounds,” Hollister said, shaking her head. “I knew this was going to happen.”

I don’t know how she knew, but we can’t focus on that now and I told her as much. “Just be professional.”

I was on as flight nurse this afternoon, and I dreaded the scene we were coming up on. I’ve only been to two crashes involving medical helicopters and they never end well. With a sigh, my team and I moved into action as fast as we could simply checking for survivors. Amazingly, everyone survived and we quickly got the chopper loaded with two victims, the worst ones. Two other Creighton choppers were landing now as well as we lifted off, our field work done. On every flight, we have two EMTs, a paramedic, and at least two flight nurses and this time, everyone did a great job. The reason Hollister (yes, that Hollister; I talked her onto the flight team four years ago as EMT) and I get to go into the field is because we’ve got our certs as EMTs (all levels) and paramedic (she lost a bet with me and had to prove she could get her paramedic certificate.)

“Creighton One to base.”

With a shake of my head, I looked down at the pilot, wondering what had happened. He’d never had a crash before and he looked terrified. I gave up on the usual soothing things I’d say and simply treated him; he knew the drill and I didn’t need to put on airs for him. He’d be lucky to make it the night; if he did, he wouldn’t remember this anyway. It was rainy out, but he should be able to pilot a helicopter in the rain; hell, I’ve done it in blizzards!

The next few moments are a blur, as we landed and reported off, seeing our patients inside. The other choppers were coming in as well, and the helipad was a blur of lift offs and landings since we could only accommodate one chopper at a go.
“Do we know what caused the crash?” I asked, when the excitement had died down. I’ll get to where we are and why in a moment.

Sean shook his head, looking distressed. “I have no idea. It’ll be investigated, but since it was raining it’s possible the weather played a hand in things. Choppers are much safer now than they used to be, but weather is still a factor sometimes. Ben’s one of my top pilots, too, so I doubt it was pilot error; we’ll have to wait for the report in a few weeks. In the mean time, good work everyone out there in the field; let’s hope they all survive the night.”

That was all we could do right now, sadly, and I really was hoping. The chopper in question had two of our best pilots on it, plus a full crew of EMTs, paramedics and nurses. Everyone survived the initial crash, but the first 24 hours are always the most critical. I want everyone to survive because we value our little family out here.

Now, as to why I’m coming to you from Creighton, here’s the thing: we were going to stay until dad completed his recovery from hip surgery. He talked us into leaving after our fourth grandchild was born, and so did my sisters and our children. After all, he’s got a great support and care team out there and home healthcare was more than happy to come twice a day until he got the green light from his doctor. So, we stayed until Marianna Lynnea was born and then we came home. Sean has been great through everything (the ED sent a bouquet of flowers to the funeral as did Creighton) and was very understanding when we needed a couple of days once home to get back into things.

“How are you doing, Jim?” Sean P. asked, as I stood at the nurse’s station, writing a report of the accident.

“I’m good, thanks,” I said, smiling at him. “It’s been eight weeks now without mom and I’m still grieving, but I’m doing okay. I miss her like crazy, though. She was always so proud of my career here at Creighton. But I need my career now to help me move along.”

He nodded, his hand lingering on my shoulder for a moment and I welcomed the gesture. I haven’t buried myself in work by any means, but I do love work for the distraction. When I get home at night, I spend time in my office looking at the pictures I have of us together, mom and I, and it makes me miss her even more. The first year is always the hardest, of course, and Jacoby and I are working hard not to fall into a depression. It’s not that easy, of course, but we’re helping each other out.

“If you need anything, let me know, okay?”

I nodded, returning to my paperwork. I had office time tomorrow and I was dreading it. I’d asked for more time in the air and on the ground, but my work as manager still had to be done. My sub had done a good job while I was gone, and when I was ready to retire completely, Alyssa would be ready to take my place, but I couldn’t give up my job just yet. Jacoby and I had some serious decision making to do and it wasn’t going to happen overnight.

I can't help thinking that, while Jack and Jimmy might think moving is a good idea, they've always had trouble in their relationship around being in California. I want them to think long and hard about this potential move, just to be sure it is what they want, and not just something they *think* they should do.

Without giving things away, I'm really proud of some of the moments they've had in this story.

And I agree. I want them to really think about California...is this right for them at last? I was brainstorming last night and I think some things are going to happen that will be big for them...but there's going to be a LOT of twists and turns to get there.

*sits nervously, biting her nails*

Apologies for the disjointed start! These guys gave me fits but IIRC, after this, they got their shit together =)!

***

6

I had forgotten how much work a newborn was. The sleepless nights, the endless diapers, bottles, and time at the breast all served as a reminder that this was just the beginning of this. Marianna had been born three weeks ago, September 23rd, 2043. Dad and Jacoby stayed out here until she was born and then grandpa finally talked them into getting back home. It’s not that we didn’t want them out here, but you could tell it was getting time for them to get back and get back to a normal life. We’ve all helped with grandpa’s remaining recovery from hip surgery and he’s doing fine.

“Marianna, mommy values her sleep. You are three weeks old, nearing 11 pounds, could you see fit to sleep through the night? You’re doing better, by letting us sleep four hours at a time, but please, a full eight hours would be great.”

She just kept wailing as I plucked her from her bassinet and offered her my finger. The test was moot, considering her head was nudging my breast and I sat down in the rocking chair. Once my shirt was open, she latched right on and I sighed.

“Moo, Mari, moo; the milk bar is now open.”

I’d been pumping before bed so my husband could give her bottles in the night, but the last couple of nights, she won’t take them. I’m not sure why, but when we called the doctor, he said don’t get worked up, some babies just prefer the breast for the first few weeks before they take bottles.

“I wish you’d let daddy feed you more, you know that?” I asked her, as her breathing evened out. Even in the dark, I could tell she was done eating and I gently burped her, before laying her back down. It was around four in the morning and I glanced outside, wondering about grandma. I don’t really believe in ghosts or anything, but I think there’s an afterlife and I’ve always wondered what it was like. Could she control her environment?

Moving out onto the balcony just outside our bedroom, I sat in one of the lounge chairs and looked skyward. My sister is very much an agnostic, boarding on atheist, but I was at one time a full on believer. If it was in the bible, I believed it. But then I saw how much flak my parents got (and me as well for having gay parents) and I started to doubt things. I stopped believing a long time ago, taking more of an ‘I don’t care’ attitude toward the whole thing. People can believe what they want, just don’t drag me into it as well; but I always believed there was more than just this life.

Some people say my beliefs are more in line with Buddhism, though I don’t know. I believe in Karma and reincarnation and stuff; I think there’s an afterlife of some sort. Priscilla says Ava has seen grandma in her room and stuff but I don’t know if I believe that; I know my sister does. But I do think there’s a place where she can hang with her friends and family, probably even Grandma Eleanor and Grandpa Hank. I am very much like my dad Jacoby in that respect.

“Wherever you are, grandma, I hope you’re doing okay,” I whispered, wishing she were still here. I know it’s for the best that she’s gone, but it’s hard, you know? I’ve never known life without her, and we were very close. When I became pregnant with Corey and wasn’t sure if I was going to keep the baby or not, she helped me work through everything. She was there when Clayton and I were deciding if we should have a big wedding or a small wedding, you name it. “Thanks for everything. I hope you can see Marianna wherever you are, because I know you wanted to meet her. I wish you’d had a few more weeks with us, but I guess it was just your time. I love you.”

With a sigh, I found myself feeling rested, despite the lack of sleep I’d gotten tonight. I returned inside for a moment and grabbed my book and book light, then sat back in the lounge chair. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d slept out here if I fell asleep here and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Clayton just smiles when he finds me and either wakes me or puts me to back to bed.

Sure enough, I woke up in bed the next morning, a note on his pillow that he’d gotten the older kids off to school and had Marianna downstairs with him. I was told to relax, have a bath, and let him take care of things for a while. I could hardly argue with that, so I turned over and looked for my book, which was sitting right next to the bed as always.

“See? There’s mommy, relaxing like I told her to.”

I smiled when Clayton brought our daughter in, who was awake for once. Of course, it took a while to get days and nights figured out at this age, but she seemed to be getting there, finally.

“Someone was worried that mommy wasn’t going to see her today. I had to show her that wasn’t the case,” he explained, as I took the baby from him. I kissed her head and smiled when she cooed at me. Her smiles these days are more related to gas than anything, of course, so I knew what that little smile meant. “She did take a bottle with gas drops in it for me this morning. I suppose she’s going to be sensitive to the milk like Corey was.”

None of our kids is allergic to milk by any means, but it seems that, as infants, there’s something I eat (and we have no idea what it is) that gives them terrible gas. The gas drops do seem to work, though, so that’s something.

“You be good for daddy while mommy pumps and cleans up, okay?”

“I will,” Clayton mimicked her and I laughed, shaking my head. It would feel good to relax today. He kissed me as he took the baby back. “You relax, okay? Everything is under control.”

I nodded, as I got out of bed and headed for the bathroom. It was odd thinking my parents were back in Iowa now, though dad had confessed they were thinking of moving out here. I told them to take their time deciding, because I don’t want them unhappy. As much as dad misses California, they’re happy in Iowa and I think they should stay there.

“This feels good,” I muttered, sinking into my bubble bath. The scented bubbles made me smile and I let myself truly relax for the first time in a very long time. “Time to see how this chapter ends.”

***

I got out of the tub two hours later (refreshing the water as it got cold, of course) and felt refreshed. I don’t know how long I slept after I got up with Mari the last time, but it was now around eleven in the morning. I was on maternity leave for three months and I was looking forward to it. As soon as the doctor okays exercise again, I’m going to work with a friend to get my tummy in shape and then Matt’s going to start work on my family tattoo I’m getting. It’ll be a portrait of each child when they were born, with names and dates of birth, then a portrait of me and Clayton on our wedding day. I can’t wait to see it all done, but it’s going to take a while.

“You look smashing,” Clayton complemented me when I finally came downstairs. I had on a yellow sundress that went to my knees and was barefoot, with my hair pulled into a loose ponytail. “Mari’s in her bouncer sleeping for a bit. I put the breast milk in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you,” I said, noting how clean the house was. It smelled great in here, and I noticed that one of my favorite candles was going. “The place looks great.”

“Surprise,” he said, smiling. He was back to work on Monday, since he only got three weeks of leave for being a daddy, but I was glad to have him. “I thought we’d also do family pictures next week. We haven’t done them for a while and now we can have all three kids in the picture.”

I nodded, getting some cereal and toast. “I like that idea. Going to have Abbi do them again?” I asked, referring to his assistant photographer. She had started there right out of school and she was an amazing artist. He nodded, causing me to smile. “Good. When do we go, then?”

“After four on Tuesday, so the kids can join us right from school,” he told me, flipping through a cookbook. He’s an amazing cook (better than me) and I recognized what he had: it was a copy of the cookbook Grandma Marks made for Jimmy when he decided he wanted to learn to cook. Our copy was falling apart, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. “How about enchiladas tonight?”

“Grandma Mark’s?” I clarified and he nodded, grinning. “Yes! Make those.”

My husband laughed as he marked the page and started searching the cupboards to see if we had what we needed. Outside of Mari’s weekly checkups at the doctor, I haven’t felt up to going anywhere, though I am feeling better now.

“Feel up to a trip to the store? We need chicken and enchilada sauce.”

I pondered that, but decided I was ready. “I think so. I haven’t been out much since she was born and we got home, so I’ll give it a try.”

“If you get tired, you can always rest,” he reminded me and I nodded, slipping into some flip-flops and grabbing Mari’s carrier. Once she was settled, Clayton grabbed his keys and glanced at me. “Ready?”

I nodded carrying our daughter and placing sunglasses over my face. I made sure the hood was over her carrier and then strapped her into the truck (it’s a family thing) and got into the front, hoping my first adventure further than the doctor would go well.

***

I was tired when we got home, but it was great to get out finally. Once I’d rested a bit with Mari, I asked Clayton if we could go for a walk and he smiled, nodding, as he took Mari and strapped her into her carrier. The kids would be getting home from school in another two hours, so we had time. I just wanted to get out of the house now, addicted to the feeling of being out. I’m a homebody like anyone, but I also need to be out and doing things.

“This feels good,” I remarked, as I pushed the stroller down the sidewalk. Clayton nodded as we waved to various neighbors who were out and a about. A couple stopped us to see the baby and we were happy to show her off.

“She’s such a doll,” Martha Mortinson remarked. She lives about a block from us and she’s been wonderful to us since we moved in a few years ago. “How old is she now?”

“Just three weeks,” I responded, smiling. “She came a week early but that was fine with the doctor; he said another week and she’d have been too big to have without a c-section.”

Martha nodded, smiling. She’s Jimmy’s age and still works as a baker at Morticia’s in downtown Huntington Beach.

“That’s good. I had to have a c-section with my last and it was not nearly as convenient as it was made out to be. It hurt, I was in the hospital for three extra days because of it but in the end, it was worth it. Sean just turned 18 and he’s looking at colleges; I couldn’t be prouder. He was a bit of a surprise because I thought I was past childbearing age, but I wouldn’t trade him for the world. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” I said, as we moved along. I love our neighbors for the most part. There are a couple of annoying ones here and there, but isn’t that anywhere people live? “Isn’t that Garrison?”

Garrison Baker, as you might’ve guessed, is the late-in-life surprise of Zach and Gena Baker. They hadn’t intended to have children and then learned that she couldn’t have them anyway; since they had no plans for children the news wasn’t as devastating as it would’ve otherwise been. So, imagine their surprise when, at the age of 43, Gena became pregnant. Garrison was the result and he’s been a handful since he learned to walk.

I don’t know if you know the full story (there’s not much to tell, really), but Ava, my little niece, is the product of an, uhm, experiment we’ll say, by Garrison and his now ex-girlfriend Maria Santiago. She was 14 at the time, 15 by the time she had Ava. She wanted nothing doing with the little girl and Zach and Gena knew Garrison (who was also 15) couldn’t handle the kid and so she was put up for adoption. Thankfully, my sister and her wife stepped forward and were able to take her. I don’t know much about the aftermath of the incident, but I do know that Garrison has apparently said he’s never having sex again, never going to date again, and muttered something about ‘dad’s scary temper’.

“Hey Garrison,” I called and he looked up, smiling a bit. He’s in college now, at Musician’s Institute in Los Angeles, studying jazz guitar. “Home on break?”

He shook his head, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. I recognized it as one from Jaded Angel, his dad’s tattoo shop. He looked nervous and I hoped nothing had gone wrong at school. Given that I’m sure there are no breaks near the 14th of October, I could only conclude that something was up.

“So, what’s up?” Clayton asked, as we turned around. I was getting tired, Mari was getting fussy and it seemed Garrison needed someone to talk to. “You seem kind of down and you haven’t been home since you left for school.”

“Well, I wanted to talk to mom and dad about something, but they’re still at work, so I debated going back or going for a walk. I figured they’ll both be home around supper time, at least, and I can talk to them and go back tonight. I didn’t have any classes this afternoon.”

I nodded, as I opened the door and carried Mari’s carrier in. Garrison followed us to the back deck, and once Clayton had gotten everyone water, I asked Garrison what he needed to talk to someone about.

“Well, I kind of fucked up.”

Well, that can’t be good. “What’d you do?”

He squirmed a bit and I started to wonder just what was so bad. “Well, you know how it is. Freshman year, great parties, and I’ve drank before.” Yes, you have, but always at home with your parents. “Well, there’s this girl.” Oh shit. “I really, really like her. I got really, really drunk and I woke up the next morning naked next to her. That was six weeks ago. Do I need to elaborate?”

I covered my face with my hands, trying not to laugh or cry. He’s done it again and I shook my head. “Oh Garrison.”

He nodded, looking absolutely ashamed, as he drank his water. No doubt, he knew what was going to happen and it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“As soon as your parents get home, we’ll all get together so you can talk, okay?” Clayton told him and he nodded. “I’ll ask your parents over for supper and hopefully, since you’re an adult now, your dad won’t kill you.”

“I survived last time,” he muttered, shaking his head. “At least Ava wasn’t conceived when I was drunk. I mean, me and Bella have a lot of talking to do, but we’ve agreed for now that we want to raise the baby together.”

That was very mature of them. “That’s good. Sit tight, Gar, and we’ll talk to your parents tonight, okay? Has she told her parents?”

“She’s doing that tonight as well. We decided that the sooner we told them, the better. Even though she’s still in the shaky zone it’s better to get it out now.”

I couldn’t disagree. I just hoped Zach and Gena wouldn’t kill their son for what he’d done.

Oh boy!

Loving the names in this chapter, Marianna and Garrison. Garrison being a bit of a handful, well that's an understatement! First Ava now another unplanned baby, that boy needs to be careful where he puts himself *giggles*

I would like to give Garrison some advice: keep it in your pants! *laughs*

I love coming up with (hopefully) unique names for characters. It's tough, but I do my best!

Writing ahead...oy vey, the things that are going on right now.

Yeah, keep it zipped!

7

Ever have one of those nights where you wake up out of a dead sleep but don’t know why? I have no idea what caused me to wake up just now, but I’m lying in bed, completely awake. Figuring I might as well use the bathroom while I was up, I tossed the covers aside and stood, starting for the bathroom, jumping when I heard a noise. I looked around the bedroom, using the small nightlight to see (we keep it near the bathroom door), but didn’t see anything. I heard the noise again, though, so I went downstairs, concerned when the kitchen light was on. I grabbed the nearest thing I could find for a weapon (the cat litter scoop? Really?) and made my way to the kitchen. I’m not much good in a fight, so maybe I can gross the intruder into submission. Besides, we’re seven miles north of Mondamin…are the criminals getting that desperate that they’re breaking into rural homes now?

“Why are you carrying the cat litter scoop around?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin before I recognized my husband. He was sitting at the table with a glass of water and some crackers, a block of cheese and a slicer. I hadn’t even noticed he was up.

“I thought you were an intruder,” I explained, returning the scoop to the litter box. I washed my hands then sat down with him and made a small sandwich. “Something woke me up, but I don’t know what it was.”

Jimmy nodded, gesturing to the water pitcher. As if he’d expected me, I noticed the extra glass. I poured water into it; I hadn’t realized I was thirsty until now, but the water felt good going down.

He swallowed his bite as I made my first sandwich and looked at me. We’d made a lot of decisions like this at night, though I don’t know that either of us wanted to talk about this. It was quiet for a moment, as the cats roamed nearby and the grandfather clock we’d gotten a couple of years ago chimed two in the morning.

“What are we going to do?” he asked, making another sandwich. He’d gotten the good cheese out, I noticed, as I sliced a few more small blocks of cheese.

I knew what he was talking about, of course, and while in the past I’d just say ‘we’re staying in Iowa’, now I wasn’t so sure. “I don’t know.”

He nodded, leaning back a bit in his chair. He had his shirt off and his black pajama pants on, much like me. At the age of 62, he still looked sexy to me, but I knew now was not the time. Now, we had to decide what we were going to do. We were nearing retirement age, though we could retire now if we wanted to. We could afford it, the house was paid for, we still had land rent (Nash’s son took over from him), so things were looking good for us. But did we want to sell our lives here for the beaches of California?

“I don’t know either,” he remarked, and I was glad we had the day off. It was going to suck as it was with how late we’re up snacking. “What are the benefits to moving?”

I grabbed some paper, then made another sandwich before making two columns. “Well, we’d be closer to our children and grandchildren. We’d be closer to your dad and he’s already offered to have us live with him. The weather is a plus as well.”

“What are the cons?”

“It’s not Iowa, it’s not the farm, and it’s not the life we’ve been building out here for forty three years.”

He nodded, filling his water glass again. We’ve done this before and sometimes the process just takes a while. “So, that aside, what do we want to do?”

I sighed, filling my water glass, making another sandwich. I couldn’t imagine a night like this not in this kitchen, not at my grandma’s table. I know if we move in with Jimmy’s dad, our furniture is going into storage, since there’s nothing wrong with theirs. Ours is new, though, minus the 100 year old table. We bought a new living room and bedroom set right before we went out to care for his mom.

“I don’t know. I want to stay here, but I want to be close to my kids. Can you imagine giving up the farm, Jim? We can’t take Penny’s tree with us; we can’t take our gardens with us. We can only take our possessions and outside of grandma’s table and Penny’s urn, those are just things.”

My husband nodded, wiping his hands and face with a brown paper napkin. “I know. And I feel the same way. But we’re not getting any younger, Jack. If we want to get closer to our kids, now is the time. Dad’s not going to be this healthy forever, either, and if he needs caring for, it’s going to fall to us, most likely. So, do we do the preemptive thing and go next summer or do we wait, like we did with mom? Go out there, take care of dad, his final affairs and then come back here?”

The way he said that, with such finality bothered me. Of course, he’s not anywhere near moving forward from his mom’s passing, but he hides it well. I hear him in his office, though, talking to her, crying; I know he dreams about her. He still cries about it, as well he should; I still cry about my mom. Sean got him into grief counseling up here and that’s done him more good than anything. But it seems he’s resigned himself to the loss of his dad before it even happens.

“I don’t know, Slim,” I responded, after some thought. “But you sound so…final about your dad and he’s doing fine.”

He nodded, his lower lip trembling and I felt bad. “I know. I’m not ready for that to happen and I know he’s got a good few years left, but he’s 91, Jack. Mom was doing fine then she turned 91 and now she’s gone. I don’t want to lose more time with dad. I love Iowa and I wouldn’t trade this farm and our life for the world, I really wouldn’t. But I would trade it for more time with dad in his final years.”

Now I understand where this discussion is going. I don’t have my dad; don’t know if he’s dead or alive, even. He’d be in his 80s now, I’m sure, maybe 90s. But I can see where Jimmy’s coming from, because we’ve been in Iowa now 43 years (well, me a bit longer), and for 12 years he didn’t have his birth parents. Once we found them, they came to visit when they could, but he’s never had more than a few weeks with them at a time. Moving out there would give him daily time with his dad, but was that what he really wanted?

“Is that what you want, though? I mean, I want you to have maximum time with your dad, but we’ve got this life built up here, we’ve got our jobs here. I know we can retire now and get maximum benefits, but we should really think about this first.”

He nodded, wiping his face with a napkin. “I have thought about this, Jack. I’ve talked to Sean and HR and everything. All we have to do is decide.”

I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t want to hurt him. “Jim, are you sure about this? I know we’ve had this discussion on and off for years, but do we really want to sell the farm? What if we want to come back someday?”

I hated to see him crying, but given recent events, it’s understandable. “I have that covered, too. I know some people who aren’t ready or able to buy a house, but they could rent this from us for around $450 a month. I know that’s not much, but they’re a young couple about to be married and they need a first place.”

I know he was talking about Sean P.’s daughter Alise and her fiancé. They were good kids, getting married after dating for a few years, but I don’t know if I’m ready to give the house up. I want to be able to come back some day, when elderly family aren’t around and if they eventually buy this place, we’re screwed.

“I-I don’t know,” I admitted, wondering about so many things. “I mean, to leave our gardens? Penny’s tree? I don’t know if I’m ready for that, hon.”

He sniffled, and these weren’t tears to convince me, they were tears of loss and tears that meant he needed something he couldn’t get here or from me. I think he needed his mom.

“I want my mom,” he sobbed and I moved us into the living room, holding him on the couch. “I just want my mom. As much as I love Iowa, Jack, I want more time with my dad. I missed out on 12 years with my parents and we did find them, we stayed here, just visiting when we could. But I missed out on so much with my mom, especially when she got sick. We went out there in August when the end was near and that’s all I got at the end? That’s hardly fair. I know your mom went suddenly, and I know it’s rude of me to be like this, but I just don’t want to lose time with dad.”

There wasn’t a lot I could say to that, you know? He makes several good points there and I’m hard pressed to argue. I just don’t want him to jump into anything because of his grief. I had to think of a way to get him to wait and not make any rash decisions.

“Jimmy, what did your grief group say about the first six months after this sort of loss?” I asked, hoping to ease into things a bit. Maybe if I put things in context, he won’t freak out on me.

He paused, wiping his face with a Kleenex. “Not to make any big decisions for six months. That puts us into February, six months out. I won’t make any decisions until then, I promise. But we need to consider this, Jack. I will talk to dad, too, of course, but we can’t dismiss it. I know you don’t want to go to California, but if I only get dad for two more years, we can always move back. I just want more time with dad and we’re talking about retiring soon anyway.”

I held him tight, rocking him slightly, because I completely understood; I wanted more time with my mom than I got, too, but at least his dad is still living. I don’t know what the answer is, but we have time to figure it out. It’s only early October and if he’s got till February, then we have time to talk it over.

“Maybe we should head back to bed,” I suggested, as his eyes started to droop. He nodded and I helped him up, hoping things would be clearer in the morning. “Some sleep will help, honey. We’ll talk this over the next few months, okay?”

He nodded, and as I tucked him in I wondered what would happen if we moved. I didn’t want to consider moving, because we’ve always agreed we liked it here and were happy. Yet, I couldn’t deprive him of his dad. There was no sense making his dad move out here, though, either. With a sigh, I snuggled up to Jimmy, kissing his bare shoulder, and closed my eyes; sleep had better make this situation clearer.

***

The next few weeks went by quickly. We watched our grandchildren grow up over the internet and I started to think Jimmy had a point. By Christmas (I’ll get to this in a moment), when we picked up our families from the airport (including his dad and my aunt and uncle), I was really considering selling the farm and moving.

“Welcome home!” I said, hugging my girls. Corey shied away from me (he’s 10), but I hugged him anyway and gladly took Marianna’s carrier. I hugged Ava and my youngest and her wife and helped get the luggage, noting that Eliza and Clayton wisely had a stroller with them. “How was your flight?”

“It was good,” Joe said, looking around. He’s looking for Jimmy, who is at work. “Jim at work?”

I nodded, sighing. “Yeah. The house is decorated but I did most of it myself. It’s hitting him a bit harder than I thought that this is his first Christmas without his mom. How are you holding up, Joe?”

“Pretty well. I have my bad days and good days, but I’m doing okay. The girls are very helpful, as are Kelly and Katie. They send their wishes and some gifts; they’re with the in-laws this year.”

I smiled, as we moved toward my truck. My aunt and uncle had gotten a rental, as had the girls, so we loaded stuff into my truck, then took them to their rentals. We’d all meet back at the house and I was excited to get family home. Joe rode with me, as did Corey and Rhiannon, and the ride north was mostly quiet.

“How’s grandpa?” Corey finally asked and I sighed.

“He’s okay, but he’s sad a lot. That’s normal this time of year when you’ve lost someone you love. But he’ll be okay,” I told my grandson (it still amazed me, sometimes, that I had grandchildren and four of them at that!).

We were having a dry winter so far and I was grateful. We’d had a little snow but it hadn’t stuck and temps were staying above normal which I was also grateful for. This meant that Jimmy’s COPD was under control and staying that way, since winter can be hard for him. Add to that his first holidays without his mom and that’s a recipe for disaster.

“I love your farm,” Corey said, as I pulled into the driveway. It was around two in the afternoon and Jimmy would be home in about three and a half hours. “I hope you never get rid of it.”

Oh, great. Well, my grandson might just have to be disappointed, if we go through with this decision to move. Everything is so up in the air and I don’t want to think about it over Christmas.

“Me, too, Corey, but you never know. Things can change.”

My grandson looked confused but moved into the yard, making a beeline for the swing set. Yep, it’s the same one Hank and family got Priscilla when she turned one. Since it’s cold out but not snowy, he can play as long as he’s bundled up. Given that his mother is from Iowa, he and his cousins are indeed bundled up and can therefore play to their hearts content.

“Don’t stay out too late guys, it’s cold and it gets dark early,” Priscilla cautioned when Ava and Rhiannon ran for the set as well. When we started having grandkids, we removed the adult swing and put kid swings back in place. “Come in soon, okay?”

They nodded, happily playing in the sand and swinging on the swings. Mean time, we all moved into the house, and I wondered where everyone was going to sleep. We had Priscilla and Eliza’s room for them, of course, and my aunt and uncle could be downstairs, but what about the grandkids?

“Get settled, guys, then we’ll think of something for supper.”

We’re well known for calling whoever is at work and saying ‘bring home food’ on nights like this and sure enough, Jimmy got a call from me. This time, he was asked to bring home food from Old Chicago, and I told him I’d call the order in for pick up around 530. He never got back to me, but did walk in with the bags around six.

“I’m going to go shower,” he mumbled, after setting the white plastic bags on the table. His eyes were red and puffy and I knew he’d been crying. He held himself together for a while after we got home, but the holidays have been a painful reminder for him.

No one questioned him as he left the room, but I was worried. Having family here, especially his dad, is just another reminder of what he’s lost and I don’t know how to help him. My first Christmas without my mom, we had all kinds of family around, but this year, it’s a small crowd.

“Give him some time, dad,” Priscilla suggested, as she got plates and silverware out. Eliza was calling the kids in (they’d been in to warm up and then went back out once I turned on the light) and I was waiting for my husband to come back down. “It’s hard for all of us, but more so for grandpa and him. He’ll come around.”

I nodded, as I started dishing up food. I made Jimmy a plate, as I heard the shower shut off, and hoped he’d at least come downstairs. He’s still eating, but I fear it’s just a matter of time. To my surprise, though, he came down, smiling at everyone and sat with us as we ate. I know it’s just an act, though, and I worry about how the rest of the visit is going to go. Everyone arranged to be out here for two weeks, I hope he doesn’t spend the entire time alone.

Poor Jim, he's such an emotional creature and it really does affect him greatly. I get what he's saying, he's hurting badly right now and while they both want to be with their families out in Cali, I can only imagine how much it would hurt to be away from things like Penny's tree.

The rental idea is a sound one, it's actually what we did here when we went to New Zealand, rented the place out so we could still come back to it if we chose to.

I hope they manage to work this one out. I'm just scared by everything you were tweeting last night that I read when I got up this morning.

I totally get where they are right now. But I think Jack is right about waiting until the first six months are over; he'll still be hurting, but he'll have had time to process the loss and begin working through it and starting to move forward. I hope they make the right choice in the end.

The pictures I get from them re: the progression of the story....it's nothing horrible, per se, but not necessarily something I wanted to have happen. And I don't know yet *where* they take place...I only have pictures of insides of places. I need outside pictures so I know where they land. Where I'm writing now, Cilla is trying to give Jacoby things to ask doctors and whatnot, trying to be a bit removed from the situation currently happening. She's got the advantage of 1800 miles of separation whereas Jacoby is right there in it all.

Yeah, it's never quite the same as having to live through it.

I shall attempt to be patient and wait for you to write, but you know what I'm like. I worry, you've got me so hooked on these two it's ridiculous! I'm so glad that I've come back to DBC and re-discovered my love for Jim and Jack!

I think J&J are easily my most loved characters! I sometimes wonder if I shouldn't be trying to publish these guys rather than "In the Blink of an Eye" =).

8

Night at the farm makes me wish we’d never left. The stars are so bright out here and tonight the wind is calm. I was lying in my room, in a new bed, snuggled into Randi, worrying about Jimmy. The kids were sharing a room downstairs in the finished basement, where my parents wisely put three rooms in for guests. Of course, there was a minor argument over who got what beds (there are three twin beds and a crib in there right now), but now they’re sound asleep.

Jimmy came down for supper, ate, and then excused himself to his office. I went to check on him and found him sitting on his couch, holding a picture of him and his mom. They had family pictures taken when she had a good day and was feeling good about three days before she died. I know the pictures mean a lot to him, as they do to all of us, but I know the picture of him and grandma alone means more than anything to him.

Turning over, I sighed, listening to my parents snoring next door. They don’t believe me, but they snore in tandem with each other and it was the only way I could sneak out a teenager. If one wasn’t snoring, I’d wait knowing that I was being listened to, to see if I’d make it out. Once the tandem snores started, I’d sneak out and be home free. Of course, getting back in was a problem sometimes, if I stayed out too late, but I only got caught a couple of times.

I finally gave up trying to sleep. As quietly as possible, I got dressed and put on my running shoes; it’s been a dry winter and while it’s cold, I can still go for a run. I have learned how to take care of my lungs, and I know dad has some extra masks around as well. Once I was dressed, I went downstairs, bundled up, put on the mask, then made my way outside.

I worry about Jimmy, simply because I can tell he’s struggling. I know it’s not going to be easy for him, but daddy says he does fine at work, only to retreat into himself when he gets home. I know he’s been through grief counseling, and daddy has found things to keep him busy, but at the end of the day, he’s still struggling. I remember after he and daddy went home, everyone wondered if Jimmy could handle being away from us. I said he was strong and he’d be fine, but I can see it in his eyes that maybe he’s not quite as strong as I thought. He was dragging his feet leaving California and I know he wants to come back badly, but I don’t know if he’s going to be able to.

I mean, he and dad are adults, they do as they please, but they don’t just like it here; they LOVE it here. They have their gardens, their cats, their lives here, and I just can’t see them living anywhere else. I know how badly they want to go back to California, but I just don’t know if they should. I know how much it means for them to be closer to family and I know Jimmy wants more time with his dad, but would moving out there be a good move for them?

“Morning.”

I glanced over and nodded at a passing runner, wondering if they couldn’t sleep, either. It had been around two when I left the house and most people out here didn’t run until around six or seven. Shrugging, I moved to my turn around point, up near Randy and Hollister’s place and then headed back. Thankfully, even though I did some damage to them in the early years, my lungs have recovered and I’m taking much better care of them now. I’m still in hock from those early years, but right now, things are under control and running has actually helped me.

I walked the last mile home as a cool down, then returned inside and went upstairs to shower. It was around 0245 now, but I wasn’t remotely tired. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and I don’t want to be tired; we’re taking the kids to the mall to see Santa, going to look at lights, and over to Edgar’s house to have supper with his family. I was hoping the shower would relax me enough to finally sleep, but my history of insomnia means there’s little chance of that.

“Are you coming to bed?”

I damn near jumped out of my skin when the door opened. Thankfully, it was just my wife and once I’d recovered, I smiled at her.

“Yeah, I just couldn’t sleep. I went for a run then wanted a shower. I’ll try to sleep now.”

She nodded, as I tightened my robe around my middle. When she’d washed her hands, she gestured downstairs and I nodded. In ten minutes time, we had cheese, crackers, and glasses of water (and the water pitcher, of course) set up in Jimmy’s office. I settled on the couch while she took the rocker with ottoman that he’s had for years.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked, making her first little sandwich.

“Dad. I can see that he’s hurting, which I expected, of course, but I worry about him. Daddy says he’s okay at work, cheerful, but it’s all an act, of course. He’s seeing his counselor more since they got home, of course, but if it’s working, no one can tell. He’s just kind of falling apart at the seams since they got home. The problem is, I don’t know if they should move to California, because that’d be a major change in their lives. Dad doesn’t always deal well with change.”

“Do you think he’ll go back to his old ways?” Randi asked, as I sliced more cheese. I heard someone moving around upstairs, but thought nothing of it.

“I don’t think so. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, he’s just sad. And I know he’s going to be sad for a long time, but I worry about him.”

The door to dad’s office slowly opened and I jumped, mostly because I wasn’t expecting it. I looked down to see if Eleanor or Oliver were entering, but instead saw a pair of familiar bare feet. I patted the couch next to me and dad came to sit.

“I thought we had a mouse that could open the fridge or something,” he said, taking some cheese and crackers. He had a glass in hand and took some water as well. “And had the ability to carry a water pitcher. What’s up?”

We both fell silent, then, and dad nodded, covering himself and me with a blanket. “I heard you talking, so don’t be shy.”

Glancing at my wife, she nodded, and I lowered my head for a moment. “I’m just worried about you, dad, that’s all.”

He flashed me that Sullivan smile, the one grandpa has, and dad and several of my great-uncles. “I know, honey, and I appreciate it. But really, I’m doing okay. I know I have some bad days and this time of year is really hard, but I’m really doing okay.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t convinced; it was in how his eyes had changed. “I know, dad, but I still worry. You do okay at work, I heard, but here at home, I can see how you’re struggling. Your eyes are darker than usual, too, and I’ve always associated that with your down times. I know that this time of year is going to be harder—“

“Honey, I passed on the gift of babbling, I see. You’re right; I do struggle here at home. Work keeps me distracted but there’s nothing here but memories. Yet, I know I have to keep going for mom. Your dad and I have discussed selling the farm and moving to California, but we’re holding off until it’s been six months. My COPD has taken a turn in the last couple of weeks and there’s a chance I’ll have to go on oxygen during the day. It’s harder to breathe at work, especially up in the chopper, but it’s harder at home, too. If I’m forced to retire because of my health but your dad can keep working, we’ll stay here. But we don’t know yet. Someday, hopefully not for a very long time, you girls will be in the same position by losing one of us. It’s hard to explain how I’m feeling right now.”

“I know, dad, and I didn’t mean to barge in, but I worry, that’s all. I love you and not many kids get to say they have such awesome parents.”

By now, the cheese and crackers were long gone and empty water glasses were sitting on the desk as we all looked at each other. The wind was up outside, and I listened to it for a moment. A quick glance revealed it had begun to snow, as the flakes danced through the yard light.

“Well, we should head back to bed,” dad said, smiling; it was close to four now and I was finally feeling sleepy. “But I’m doing okay, girls, I promise. I know people worry, but I have good days and bad days and while today was a bad day, hopefully tomorrow will be a good day. I’m on vacation now until you all head back to California, and it might be just what I need.”

He hugged me one last time, then helped us clean up our mess. As we moved back upstairs, I detoured by the rest room to comb my hair out while Randi settled in. Dad stood in the doorway, watching, and I looked over at him.

“Just amazed at what you’ve grown into, that’s all. You’re an amazing nurse, an amazing mom, and an amazing woman. Not a lot of dads can say they gave birth to their daughter, then raised her into an amazing young woman. I know we’ve had our problems, but I do appreciate the concern, honey. I’m glad you pay attention to details around you. Get some sleep, okay, before we have to brave the mall with the kids.”

I nodded, hanging up my wet towel and then moving into my bedroom. Randi was waiting up for me and I smiled as I snuggled down into the covers with her. I know this Christmas season is going to be hard, but hopefully we can get through it with minimal problems.

***

We have three very disappointed kids and one indifferent infant on our hands. The snow that started around four turned into a full on storm and that means we’re not going anywhere. We tried explaining to Corey, Ava, and Rhiannon that even Santa can’t get anywhere in this weather, but that just worried them that they’d have no presents tomorrow morning. My parents, who are experts at this sort of thing, did finally manage to get through to them, but they are still moping around the house.

“Guys, come on, it’s time for supper!” Jimmy called and I laughed as a herd of elephants came through the house. They’d been downstairs with Jacoby, and his aunt and uncle doing arts and crafts while the rest of us were up here helping dad make calzones. It seems that, if he has something to do, his moods are better. “Be careful, these are hot, okay?”

“They smell amazing!” Jo exclaimed, as she slowly came into the kitchen. Her joints aren’t what they used to be and even a new hip a year ago hasn’t done much for her. “Looking forward to this one.”

“I agree. We raised quite a chef,” grandpa noted helping Jo walk. Al was right behind them, in better shape than his wife, and he nodded. “Your mom was always worried that her cooking lessons fell on deaf ears, Jimmy.”

I watched my dad but he had a genuine, happy smile on his face at that. “She needn’t have worried.”

We all laughed, as Jo finally settled into a chair and I asked if she was okay. “I’m fine, sweetie. It’s the weather and I did leave the cane downstairs, which was a mistake on my part. When the storm passes, so will my stiffness and I’ll be back to normal.”

I smiled, settling down next to Randi and Ava. My parents had plenty of booster seats for the grandkids, which was welcome. Great grandma’s table was set high and even Corey needed a book to sit on to be comfortable. The calzones were passed around and we were quiet as we started eating, listening to the storm howling outside. Thankfully, all gifts are bought, wrapped, and under the tree, so it’s no big deal that we didn’t get to go anywhere today.

“These are great grandpa!” Corey raved and Jimmy smiled again. “May I have another one?”

Eliza got him a second helping, passing around the breadsticks as well (also homemade), as we all dug in. The lights flickered a couple of times, but that was normal out here; I’m surprised they haven’t gone out already, to be honest.

“There go the lights finally,” Eliza commented, as the lights gave one final flicker and then went out about fifteen minutes later. “Who’s going to traipse out and get the generator going?”

“I’ll go,” Jacoby said, wiping his mouth. “I know where it is and how to start it.”

We all laughed, remembering the time Eliza offered to start the generator. Let’s just say we sent a search team for her after half an hour, only to find her standing puzzled in the garage as she tried to turn the generator on. Ten minutes later, the lights were back (we have propane heat, so that never goes out, thankfully).

“Thank you,” dad said, as daddy resumed his seat at the table. “Much better. How bad is it outside?”

“It’s bad. I scooped a path to the garage and had to scoop it again on the way back. I think winter is here and it’s not letting up for a while. When do you guys fly back?”

“We all go back January 3rd,” grandpa answered, wiping his mouth and hands. “We figured that would work for the best and everyone was able to get time off. The kids will miss one day of school, but that’s okay.”

I nodded, taking a sip of my water. “They aren’t the only ones. When I told the school Ava would miss the start of school, the secretary said she wasn’t the only one and that there were about ten or so that would be coming home late. If that’s the preschool, I can only imagine what the other schools are sitting at.”

I love these moments, just sitting around the table, making small talk with my family. The holidays are about more than just gifts, and I hope the kids realize that this year. I certainly wouldn’t trade this family for the world and am glad to have them. With a smile, I took a bit more food and reminded myself to count my blessings tonight; I had many things to be thankful for.

Loved this chapter, it's amazing to me to see Cilla this way. From the hellion that she was as a kid to a proud mother and loving daughter. There were times growing up when I was sure she was gonna be the death of Jimmy, but to see them having this very sweet conversation is just so lovely.

People would be surprised to see what's sitting in the "Story Ideas" folder about these guys. Adventures that never got finished or that I thought weren't any good. There was one Cilla in high school that I tried to write about three different times and finally gave up on. Most people would not have liked it simply because of what happened in it. I certainly didn't like it for that reason. But it'd be funny if my readers saw all the unfinished J&J that's hiding on my hard drive =).

I know that I certainly like this Cilla better. She's grown into a great person and she's very concerned for her dad; quite a change from her younger years. I loved writing this scene, too, this little heart to heart between her and Jimmy. I'm really proud of her for what she's grown to become.

I still remember her bitching and whining that he was putting it all on, that his depression was all in his head. This Cilla makes me happy!