Going Home (Jimmy/Jacoby)

January 15th, 2048

“Corey, you’re giving me grey hair,” I complained, after trying to put my foot through the floor for the fifth time. “It’s an abandoned, empty parking lot, but if this had been a street, we’d be dead.”

Don’t ask me why I offered to help teach Corey to drive. He’s had his permit for two months but he just hasn’t seemed to grasp the lessons we’ve given him. Eliza has given up, lest she strangle her fifteen year old son, and Clayton has found himself short on patience. Therefore, they called me, Grandpa Jacoby, to give some lessons.

“Now, when you press on the accelerator, do so gently, okay? And keep the wheel straight. You’ve been at this two months, Corey, I don’t know what’s hard about this.”

He sighed, huffing air through his lips, then biting at his snakebites (his mother signed the waiver for his age) and looked at me. “I don’t know why I can’t handle this, grandpa. Maybe I’m just a bad driver.”

I patted his shoulder. “Don’t think like that, okay? This just takes time and two months just might not be enough time. Just try your best to learn this; preferably before your mother kills you.”

He looked startled for a moment before he laughed. “Since I value my life, I’ll give it a try. But driving is harder than it looks.”

Corey once again put the car into drive and this time, we didn’t lurch forward. I also didn’t feel the need to punch my foot through the floor to stop the car with my imaginary brake. He managed to drive around the parking lot in a circle without me feeling as though my life was in danger.

“That was better!” I praised him, grinning. The sun ducked behind a cloud and I watched fat rain drops start to hit the windshield. “While we’re parked, learn where the wipers are.”

He quickly reached for the lever and activated the wipers, as the rain started to pour down. “Can I drive home?”

I shook my head, aware that he was not ready to drive in the rain yet. “Not yet. You’re not quite ready to drive in the rain, considering the roads can get so slick. Let me drive us home and we’ll work on driving in the rain another time.”

He nodded, reluctantly getting out of the car and changing spots with me. The slick roads don’t last for long, but it can make driving around a bit harrowing at times until the oils wear off. Five years of living back in California, showed me that years of driving on the snow and ice of Iowa was great practice for the first rains of the winter. The oils come up in the road and make it slippery for a couple of hours until the rain washes it all away.

“The roads aren’t even slick yet,” he complained, as I stopped at a light. We were a couple of blocks from Jimmy and I’s house, and I smiled.

“That doesn’t make you ready for them. I promise, next time it rains, I’ll let you try driving on our street, okay?”

He nodded, slumping down a bit in his seat. He’d opted to spend his Saturday with me, since he was grounded until Sunday (he stayed out past curfew on Thursday night and flunked a math test).

“Thanks for helping me,” he said, and I nodded, smiling, as we hurried inside. “What can we do the rest of the day?”

I shrugged, as thunder sounded outside. The beach was out as was just about any outside activity. I was trying to think what Jimmy and I had for the grandkids to do on a rainy day. Video games remain popular with kids, but we don’t have them here.

“Well, we have some board games, some movies, and some instruments,” I told him and his eyes lit up.

“Can I practice on Grandpa Jimmy’s drums?” he asked, almost bouncing when I nodded. “Sweet!”

I laughed as he bolted upstairs, into the room that had at one time belonged to his Great-Aunt Katie. We’d turned it into a music room shortly after moving to California and Jimmy’s dad had enjoyed it while he was alive.

“Corey, when do you have driver’s training again?” I asked, logging our two hours. Things were different out here, for young drivers. They don’t get their permits until 15 ½, and then six months later, they can take the driver’s test. Now, this is after 50 hours of practice and driving school, but it seems to be working.

“Monday,” he answered, settling behind the small kit. He tapped the bass drum, his favorite part and shook his shaggy blonde hair from his eyes. “How many hours of practice with adults do I have?”

I quickly did the math, looking down at the paper in my hand. My bifocals helped me focus on the smaller print (getting old sucks), and I looked up at my grandson again.

“Looks like over the last two months, we’re at about 30 hours, so in that sense, you’re doing fine. How is class going?”

He shrugged, already into a steady rock beat, working the double pedal Jimmy had recently purchased for him. “It’s fine. My instructor is nice and is calm when we’re all out driving. She thinks all of us are going to do fine on our tests when we’re sixteen, but I don’t know if I buy that. We’re still in the parking lot, but we’re heading out into town on Monday.”

I guess I should’ve gotten him into traffic. “Well, if you want a test run tomorrow, we’ll go up and down the street here, okay? You can circle our block and get used to driving around other cars.”

He nodded, though I couldn’t tell if he was committing or not. This kid is your typical teenager, of course, in that he’s a bit wishy-washy and doesn’t always know what he wants. Leaving him to practice, I went downstairs and got some heartburn medication. This was becoming an increasing problem of late, but the doctor said everything was fine. I was changing my diet a bit and having fewer spicy foods and that had been helping. Chewing the chalky tablets, I chased them with water and then smiled when the front door opened.

“Hey Jim,” I said, pulling him into a hug. He’s done well the last five years without his dad, though his eyes still look a bit haunted. He was the one who found him and the first year was pure hell. I thought we were going to lose him, but he pulled through and he’s been great since. “How was the photo studio?”

He shrugged, shaking his umbrella onto the porch, before he put it away to dry. “It was fun. I got to photograph a newborn who was awfully cute and very quiet. Her family was good, too, and overall, it was a great success. I only had them today, so I spent the rest of the time doing some editing and getting notices out to people to pick up their prints. How did the driving lesson go?”

I laughed a bit, listening as Corey continued to work on his jazz band music. “Do I have any new grey hairs?” I asked and Jimmy laughed, coughing a bit. He’s still on oxygen, a bit more than five years ago, and laughter still brings on coughing fits. “He did better than usual, and he’s getting his hours in no problem. But I still fear the day we take him onto the street. I told him next lesson we’ll drive around our block before we really get him into heavy traffic.”

“Good idea,” my husband said, kissing me. We’re still going strong at 73 and 67, and our sex life is still good. I’m sure you wanted to know that, didn’t you? Oh hush. “I hear he’s working on jazz band now?”

I nodded, moving us into the kitchen. It was getting time to start supper and I was getting hungry. “I still don’t know why Eliza won’t let him have a drum kit at home. How does he practice when we’re not home?”

“I’m working on that,” he promised, grabbing a cheese stick from the fridge. The snack was once used to ward off cravings; now, he just likes them. “She’s starting to realize that he’s pretty serious about this drumming stuff, and sees how much time he spends over here practicing. I told her he’s always welcome, but I worry he spends more time with us than them. She’s thinking about the kit and I told her I’d help her pick one out.”

Thankfully, Corey hadn’t overheard us, as he bounded down the steps. The storm was still raging outside, and thunder shook the house. Since he wasn’t used to storms, our grandson jumped, clearly trying to look tough when he was scared. Neither of us made a big deal of it, and I asked if he was staying for supper.

“If mom doesn’t care,” he answered, grabbing a cheese stick out of the fridge. I know he’s Eliza’s kid, but he’s the spitting image of Jimmy as a kid. The shaggy hair that he dies blond, the bit of chin hair, the height, you name it. “What are you making?”

I opened the cookbook we’d gotten from Eleanor and pointed to her enchilada recipe. “Call your mom and make sure it’s okay for you to stay.”

He quickly dialed her number, and I figured she’d answer, since her cell phone policy is pretty loose. The damn things still rule our lives and land lines are pretty well non-existent. Wireless internet is common and you no longer need a router in your home to get it. It’d kind of nice, since it’s free, but I still kind of miss the days of the routers. We keep a secure connection, but it can be tricky sometimes.

“She said it’s fine. She’ll pick me up at eight, since that’s when she’ll get off work.”

Naturally, he’s unable to resist the enchiladas. Really, I don’t think I know of one person who can resist them. They’re just so damn good and as long as you follow Eleanor’s recipe, you can’t mess them up.

“Want to help?” I asked him as Jimmy chopped up the vegetables for me. I had some chicken on the counter and my grandson nodded. “You can fill and roll the shells, okay?”

“Sounds good,” he said, engrossed in his phone. When he was done texting, he grabbed the tortillas from the pantry and counted out enough for a double batch. “Can I have a friend over for supper?”

I glanced at Jimmy, who shrugged. “Who’s your friend?”

“Gerald Morgan. He’s in jazz band with me.”

I knew Gerald, considering he lived two doors down and mowed our lawn. Jimmy nodded his permission as did I and Corey grinned, typing frantically into his phone.

“He’ll be down in about ten minutes. Thanks grandpas!”

Yes, it did take some getting used to, hearing us called grandpas; but it works for the kids. After all, that’s what we are, and while we worried what we might be called, it seems our kids have taken care of things for us.

“I hate rain.”

“Hello, Gerald, nice to see you, too,” Jimmy deadpanned, handing me the cutting board ten minutes later. “I take it it’s still stormy out?”

I laughed, as Gerald came into the kitchen, settling into a chair near Corey. “You might say that,” he responded, jumping when it thundered. These California kids needs to get used to storms. “I also hate storms.”

“Is there anything you do like?” I asked, glancing at him as I finished dicing the chicken and put it on to brown with the onion.

He glared at me, but laughed. “Sure. Your cooking. Mowing your lawn. But I don’t like rain or storms.”

I laughed a bit, knowing how teenagers could be. “Whatever, dude. We’re just glad you’re willing to mow for us. We’re far too old and frail to be doing it ourselves.”

The boys laughed at us, as I finished cooking the chicken and put together the rest of the filling. I let the boys fill and roll the shells, then poured the sauce over top and popped it in the oven, settling at the table with the boy. My chest felt a bit tight and I frowned.

“You okay, Jack?” Jimmy asked, as I rubbed my chest.

“I don’t know. My chest just feels kind of tight, that’s all. I had some heart burn earlier today but that’s nothing new.”

Frowning, Jimmy got up and left the kitchen, returning with his stethoscope. The medics in us are still alive and well, even if we’re not practicing, and I let him give me a look-over.

“Your heart beat is fine, so is your pulse and breathing. Let’s give it ten minutes before we head to the ER, okay?”

I nodded, trying relax; it won’t get better if I freak out. I’ve never had heart trouble before and the doctor said everything was fine just two weeks ago. I engaged in small talk with the boys and in time, I felt things loosening up.

“Well?” Jimmy asked, ten minutes later.

“I feel better now. Must’ve been related to the heartburn earlier,” I told him, but he looked guarded. “Something to keep an eye on.”

Jimmy nodded and I knew what that nod meant. We were going to more than keep an eye on things; he was going to watch me like a hawk.

2

Standing in my son’s room, I pondered whether or not to be angry. Part of me was pissed and part of me was amused. I just didn’t know which side should win out. Since Corey was still in school, I called my dad, knowing he was off work today. The nice part of them being retired is they can choose their schedules; Jimmy worked Monday, Wednesday, and Friday; Jacoby worked Tuesday and Thursday. Today was Friday so Jacoby would he home and hopefully he could advise me.

“Dad?” I asked, as soon as he picked up and I knew he’d picked up on the worry in my voice. “I have a dilemma on my hands.”

“Oh?” he asked, as something clunked in the background. “Sorry, working on hanging some pictures.”

“No problem. It’s just that I've got to decide how to handle this problem.”

“What’s the problem?” he asked, as I looked out the window and watched the ocean roll in and out; the waves were angry today.

“I found weed in Corey’s bedroom, dad…and I know it’s just weed, but you also know the general family policy on drugs.”

There was a pause as I’m sure dad considered the situation. With Jimmy’s history of drug abuse, we take this very seriously, but then again, I’ve smoked some weed before, and I don’t want to seem like a hypocrite.

“Well, this is a tough one, I agree,” he told me. I settled onto the couch, propping my feet onto the coffee table. “Because I know you’ve smoked some weed in your time, but we do frown on all illegal drugs in this family. I’d say proceed with caution. Tell him you found it, tell him how you found it…how did you find it?”

I sighed, rubbing my hand over my face. “I was putting his laundry away. I’m teaching him to do his own laundry, but he’s a typical teenager, so he doesn’t always get it done before he’s out of everything. Anyway, I was putting his underwear away and I noticed the bag in the corner. He’s got some joints already made and all the stuff for making them is there as well.”

Dad chuckled a bit, though I knew he was taking this seriously. “Well, sadly, this time I can’t really advise you. I know that the general family policy is to frown, but your dad has been good for years and Corey is a curious teenager, if nothing else. But this should be addressed because sometimes weed can lead to other things. We have a family history of addiction and I would catch it before it becomes a problem.”

I nodded, realizing that what he’d said made sense. “Thanks, dad, I think I know what I’m going to do.”

We hung up and I stretched a bit, trying to decide what to do with my day. It was rare that I had a day off like this, but I was going to enjoy it. I’d already done some cleaning, and I hated to spend my days cleaning, so it was time to relax. Heading upstairs, I changed into my bikini (my stomach tattoos are done and they look amazing) and then went out to our private stretch of beach. We don’t live in the ritziest part of town, but we still live in a nice part of town. We have a nice privacy fence and it stretches almost to the water, allowing us to have complete privacy in the back. Randi and Priscilla live just a couple blocks down and it’s actually nice being this close to my sister.

“Me time,” I muttered, slathering on sun screen. I spread a blanket on the sand, popped open an umbrella, donned my shades and laid down to read. January in California can be cold and rainy or it can be hot. It’s even been simply mild. This year, the beach is the place to be as the temperatures have stayed warmed and the rain has been largely absent.

“Mom?”

I blinked my eyes open, realizing that I felt kind of warm. As I sat up, I realized that Rhiannon was looking down at me and I looked not unlike a lobster. My sunscreen had clearly done the job for a couple of hours and I had clearly fallen asleep.

“Mom, we’re hungry and Corey won’t make us a snack,” she complained, her flaming red hair falling in her eyes. She does have a little natural red hair from Jimmy’s side, but mostly, she dyes it. “Did you forget sunscreen again?”

Shaking my head, I stood up, gathering my things as I followed the kids back inside. “No, I had it on, but I fell asleep. I have got to start getting stronger sunscreen, I guess, that can withstand me falling asleep out here. Let’s go get some snacks.”

My sunburn was starting to hurt a bit, though I realized I wasn’t nearly as burnt as first thought. With luck, this will clear in a day or two…before I go back to work on Monday, at least.

“What do you guys want? I made a fresh fruit salad this morning,” I told them, pondering the other choices. I tried to limit the junk in their diets, though we do have some junk in the house. “Or, you can have a snack cake or one of the brownies that Grandpa Jimmy made.”

“Fruit salad,” Rhi said and Mari nodded, as I took note that Corey was absent.

“All right. Dish it up and I’ll go find your brother,” I said, heading into the hallway.

“He’s at Grandpa Jacoby’s,” Mari told me, spooning a healthy portion into her bowl. “He decided to go practice for jazz band.”

I shook my head, snapping the lid back on the salad and putting it in the fridge. There’s no way he could’ve realized that I found him out, so his reason must be legit. Either way, I dropped dad a text that Corey was to be home for supper and have his homework done before he got home.

“Can we play on the beach?” Mari asked, looking outside. Being in school out here is tough year round with the nice weather. “It’s so nice and hot out today.”

“Once your homework is done,” I told them, figuring a compromise was the best. “Mari, I know you don’t have very much, but it has to be done before you do anything. Rhi, what do you have?”

“Some math and some English, but that’s it. It shouldn’t take me very long.”

“Let me know if you need help,” I said, as both pulled out their homework. Mari is only in first grade, but they still get a couple of worksheets per night to complete. Both kids were very bright, as was their brother, but homework still challenges them sometimes.

While they worked, I continued to ponder my problem with Corey. I don’t want to make a huge fuss over a little weed, but I do need to address it. I’ve decided to ground him for a week, make sure he gets rid of it (and not by smoking it), and tell him I’m going to keep an eye on him. If any more weed enters the house, there will be increasingly worse consequences as the situation warrants. Dad’s right: we have a history of addiction in this family and I worry about my kids.

***

Corey was home by supper time as promised, and just before he went to bed, I sat him down for a talk.

“What’d I do?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. He’s a bright kid, so I suppose he knows that I’ve found out.

“Well,” I said, going to his sock drawer. You never saw a kid run so damn fast in your life. I got the drawer open and just before I could reach in, he slammed it shut. “It’s no good hiding, it Corey. I want that dumped down the toilet right now and then you’re grounded for a week, you understand me? Anymore of that shit comes into this house, and you’ll understand the meaning of the word grounded. We have a history of addiction in this family and I refuse to have you starting so young.”

I didn’t like scaring my children, but this time, it was warranted, I think. Corey’s eyes were bugging out of his head and he was actually shaking a bit. He moved slowly, but got his drawer open and then withdrew all of the weed he had.

“Now, down the toilet with it,” I reminded him, marching him into the hallway. The kid’s bathroom was busy, so I permitted him to use ours. “All of it, young man. Right now. Your dad’s going to be home tomorrow from his conference, and he’s going to hear about this.”

Corey gulped, as the last of the weed went down our toilet. The smell of it almost made me sick and I don’t see how my kid can smoke the stuff. I know I did some weed once upon a time, but as an adult and three kids later, there’s no appeal at all.

“Now, when your dad gets home tomorrow, we’ll make sure he agrees with my punishment and if not we’ll decide how else to handle it. For now, I need you to text your friends that you’re grounded and then hand over the phone. All internet time will be spent with your father or I and you get no Facebook or other social networking sites.”

For once, there was no arguing, and a few minutes later, his laptop was parked in the living room and his phone was locked in the safe in our room, turned off. Dejected, he returned to his room, refusing to bid me good night as his door slammed shut in my face. He can sulk all he wants, but the rules are the rules and we’re not going to start him on drugs.

***

Much to Corey’s dismay, Clayton agreed that I’d handled the situation just fine and I knew we were in for a long week. I wasn’t worried about withdrawals, since it didn’t seem he’d had much weed; it was just being in the same house as a grounded teenager. If you have teenagers, you’ll understand; if you don’t, I’m jealous.

We survived, as we have survived before, and I was glad to give Corey back his phone and internet privileges. He’s a miserable teenager without his stuff and he makes our lives twice as miserable. I monitored his texts for a week, making sure he wasn’t getting anymore weed, but it appeared our troubles had ended for now.

“Corey!” I called, a mere three weeks later. It was a Saturday and I was once again putting laundry in his room. The smell in here is unmistakable. “Get your ass in here now!”

That’s my ‘manager voice’, as the folks at work call it. It’s a sort of deep, slightly guttural voice and it means business. The kids understand that I am not to be disobeyed when this voice is used and I rarely have any problems.

“Corey Dean Smithland!” I shouted, my voice getting a bit louder and deeper. This was truly the manager voice and I was becoming increasingly irate as I tore his room apart, looking for the evidence. “NOW COREY!!”

But he did not appear, and my patience was running thin. The girls were have an overnight tonight with my parents and they had picked them up early to go to San Diego. Clayton was downstairs and I’d taken today off to spend with my family.

“COREY DEAN SMITHLAND!” I shouted, finally seizing the small baggie of loose weed. There were no joints this time, just the bag, but I had also found rolling papers in his drawer. “Where are you?”

“Oh, the demon voice, good one,” Clayton said, though his tone implied that he was only slightly joking. “Corey!”

We searched the house and I thought he couldn’t be far. He’d just been in his room a moment before I walked in, and as far as I knew, had only just gone to the bathroom. But the house was empty, and I did what I swore I’d never do as a parent: I tracked his phone on the computer.

“He must be on his bike,” Clayton observed, shaking his head. “He’s heading for Gerald’s house.”

I understand now why my parents kept such a close eye on us even if we didn’t realize it at the time. I had Gerald’s mom on the phone before Corey even arrived. The GPS on his phone is always on and there’s no way for him to turn it off, we made sure of that.

“Thanks,” I said, hanging up. “Allison will send him right home and follow to be sure he arrives.”

“Good. When he gets here, he’s going to be grounded until he’s forty,” Clayton declared, as I laid out the baggie and rolling papers on the coffee table. “I can’t believe my kid is doing drugs. Did you search his whole room?”

I shook my head. “Just his drawers. Let’s do a more thorough search, shall we?”

Heading upstairs, I began to almost fear what I could find, and I was definitely prepared to make his life hell for it. As we searched his room, I started to plan his punishment, as I looked out the window and saw Allison pulling in as Corey ditched his bike in the front yard and stomped inside.

“Get the hell out of my room.”

I shook my head, pointing to the bed. “Sit down, young man. You’re going to have a talk with us.”

He refused, continuing to stand in the doorway and glare at us, as we finished our search. Clayton handed me some money, a scale, and some cigarettes. Clearly, this is a far more involved operation than we realized.

“Let’s talk,” Clayton said as I went for the laptop. This was going to be hell.

3

“Corey?” I asked, my jaw dropping open. “My grandson?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before Eliza answered. “Yes, dad, your grandson, Corey. Want to kill him with me?”

My face fell when I realized she was serious. “But, he knows better! What did you find?”

She sighed. “We found a baggie of weed, of course. We also found money, a scale, and some cigarettes all hidden in his room. He finally told us he and Gerald are growing this stuff at another friend’s house and then selling it around school. That’s how his savings account has gotten so large; I believed him when he said he was doing chores around the neighborhood and for you guys.”

I nodded, rubbing my hand over my face. “He was, to a point. He helped Jacoby clean out the family room and the attic one day, he’s helped Gerald mow our lawn and clean the pool a couple of times. But he certainly hasn’t done enough to warrant as much money as you’ve told me he has. Oh hell, Liza. What did you do?”

My daughter sounded like she might cry and I decided I’d have to go over and talk to her today. “We grounded him for two months, took his phone away, took his internet away and told him he’s got to go to school and then straight home every day. He’ll have to come here when I work, but he’s going to be monitored closely. He’s not allowed to be alone in his room unless he’s asleep and we took his door off just in case. Dad, what did we do wrong?”

I felt for her, I really did, and right now is when I could use the advice of my parents. “You didn’t do anything wrong, actually; you just did your best. Corey went astray of his own doing. Did you, uhm, show him the slideshow?”

She paused and I took that to mean she had. We’d made a slide show of my worst moments on drugs to show the grandkids if one of them decided it’d be wise to try. It was meant to show them what drugs really do, rather than the glamorized idea that movies have fed them over the years. So far, we’d gotten lucky, but now with Corey trying weed, I had a feeling we were in for a long period of trouble with him.

“Let me talk to him, Liza,” I offered, as I grabbed my truck keys. “I’m on my way over, okay?”

“Okay; we’ll see you soon.”

We hung up and I called to Jacoby, who peeked his head in from the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“I’m heading over to Eliza’s; Corey got caught with drugs again.”

“Wait for me.”

The late morning sun was streaming in from the south windows over the dining room, making its rapid winter descent to the west to set early. I felt my mood doing much the same as I pondered how to address my grandson and his mistakes. I wanted so badly to believe they were nothing but that: mistakes, but he’s at the age I was when I got started and we needed to nip this right now.

A few minutes later, we pulled in at Eliza’s and I swear there was a cloud of tension around the house. We all live in the same area, though we’re far enough to drive. As we walked in, I spotted Corey sitting in the living room, his face bathed in anger, while his parents sat on the opposite couch. This was not going to be a fun visit, was it?

“Corey, we need to talk,” I said without preamble. “Come with me.”

Growling a bit, he followed me to the family room, where we could close the door. As soon as he was settled onto the couch, I rubbed my hands over my face.

“Corey, this is very, very serious. I know you’re going to argue that it’s just a little weed. That’s what I said, too. But just a little weed goes further and further until you can’t control anything. Don’t get to where I got, Corey, please.”

There was no response, as he continued to sit there, arms crossed over his chest. I didn’t know what else to say, really; he’d seen the slideshow and if that didn’t get to him, how could I?

“I’m not like you, grandpa,” he snarled. I was taken aback at his sudden change in attitude and noted his dilated eyes. I used to get mean when I was high, no matter what I was high on, and I can see that he’s going to be the same way. “You’re right that it’s just a little weed. It’s an easy few bucks from the kids at school, okay? I’m trying to save up for a car and since I don’t have a damn job, I need to make the money somehow!”

I shook my head, wondering what had gotten into my grandson; he was normally so calm. “There are better ways, Corey, and you know that. You could get a job, for instance. Most places around here will take you at fifteen for 10-15 hours per week. I know you won’t make much but since you don’t have any real expenses, you could put your entire paycheck toward the car you want. You’d certainly be doing it more legally than selling weed around school.”

Of course, my grandson was not impressed. He’s making money hand over fist off these high school kids. I was beginning to feel quite frustrated; haven’t my stories turned these kids off to this crap?

“If you’re going to lecture me, forget it, grandpa,” he told me, standing. “I’ve heard all the stories, had all the stupid classes so forget it. I’ve got to make money and I don’t want to get a job. I don’t plan to ever need a real job because I’m going to be a drummer and make it big, okay? So just leave me alone.”

He stomped off, leaving me somewhat stunned. I took a moment to gather myself before I re-joined everyone in the living room; Corey was in his room and it was clear that he wanted his door back. My daughter was making it clear that he was not allowed in his room right now and he finally stomped down the stairs and tossed himself onto the couch.

“You’re going to sit there until you’re done being grounded,” Clayton reminded his son, as Corey glared at his parents. “You’re also going to get a real job, like it or not. I’ve even taken the liberty of downloading several applications for you. You will sit at this computer right now and fill them out and if I see you lying on any of them, I’ll add one day per application to how long you’re grounded.”

I heard Corey grumble something under his breath, but he did as his father had asked. While he was good and distracted, I grabbed Eliza and took her upstairs to his room.

“He’s high right now,” I told her and her jaw dropped open in surprise. Clearly, she thought she’d gotten everything out of his room. “Look, I know about hiding places, okay? Let me search his room and we’ll probably find the remaining drugs.”

She nodded, standing in the doorway while I looked in place she probably hadn’t thought of. At first, I thought maybe Corey wasn’t that smart yet; maybe she had gotten all the drugs out of his room. But then I returned to his preferred hiding spot and sure enough, there was a false bottom in his sock drawer. I emptied the drawer, watching Eliza, and then I popped the bottom out.

“Well, well, well,” I muttered, looking at the true bottom of the drawer. “Eliza, look at this.”

She moved forward, shock on her face, and then she started to cry. I held her, wondering if this is how my parents felt at one time. I know that I wasn’t around long before I ran away, but if they did ever find my stash, is this how they felt?

“How the hell did I miss this?” she asked, as footsteps sounded on the stairs. Corey appeared in his doorway and his face became crimson with anger. My daughter turned to face her son and I was prepared to get between them. “Get. Out.”

Corey’s eyes widened, as he stepped into his room. He reached for the drugs in his drawer but I blocked him; he wasn’t taking this stuff with him. There must’ve been over two grand in cash alone, not to mention all of the weed, the wrappers, a bong, and I’m certain I spotted a little bag of cocaine as well.

“You’re throwing me out? How am I supposed to get a job, then?” he asked, his face coated in a light sheen of sweat; whatever he’s on, it’s wearing off.

“Get the fuck out of my house Corey Dean Smithland and don’t come back until you’re clean and sober and can stay that way!” she shouted, jabbing a finger at the doorway. Clayton thundered up the stairs as Jacoby yelled something about taking the girls to the park. “I don’t want this shit in my house, Corey! Didn’t you learn anything when I told you about your grandfather? Huh? Do you want to end up on the streets, Corey?”

I flinched, wondering if she meant to insult me or not. I know she’s just an angry mom, but I have to do something to diffuse the situation.

“Eliza, don’t throw him out,” I told her, and stepped back from her angry glare. “Listen to me, hon. My parents threw me out, remember? And look what happened. Do you want that for Corey? You want him to run away and never know where he is? If he’s dead or alive? Don’t do that to him, Eliza, please. Get him the help he needs but don’t throw him out. There are some good programs for kids his age in the area and he won’t have to go away to a rehab center. But please think twice before you throw him out, honey, please. I don’t want what happened to him to happen to me.”

I could see that my daughter was conflicted, wondering what to do. Of course, it’s normal to want to throw your kid out when they’re doing something you disapprove of. But it’s not always the best course of action and I needed to convince her of that. Corey was packing a bag, still attempting to get to his dresser, but I had closed the drawer and was leaning against it.

“What programs?” she finally asked, as Clayton blocked his son from leaving the room.

“We’ll have to do some research, but they’re out there, Eliza. Look, my parents threw me out, we threw your sister out, but it never worked. Your sister finally came back to us for help and we got her help. Don’t repeat our mistakes, okay?”

I knew Eliza was still conflicted, as Corey continued to pack his bags. I didn’t want him to leave, because he’d run to other friends that were using. The tension in the air was so thick I thought we were going to suffocate. I watched as Eliza and Clayton conferred and then she turned to Corey.

“You’re going to stay with your grandparents for a while, Corey. We need time to figure out what to do and in the mean time, we can’t have the stress in the house that you create. Dad, please take him home and when we’re ready, we’ll come for him.”

Corey shrugged, looking at me expectantly, as Eliza excused herself. Her bedroom door clicked shut and I sighed; this isn’t what I wanted. I mean, I’ll take Corey home with us, but this isn’t the right solution. Trust me, we kicked Priscilla to Randi’s house and that wasn’t the solution. Rather than right it, though, I turned to my grandson, after sending a quick text to my husband.

“Come on, Corey.”

I was angry at Eliza and Clayton but at the same time I understood their decision. Walking past my son-in-law, I just shook my head at him, as my grandson walked behind me. I’d have to check his bags at the house and make sure he hadn’t brought any drugs, since I didn’t want that in my house.

“Got your school stuff?” I asked, as Jacoby returned with our granddaughters. Corey picked up a black backpack and I nodded. “Let’s go, then.”

Silently, we left the house. Corey looked tough on the outside, but I could see the hurt in his eyes at being ejected from his own home. Eliza and Clayton hadn’t made the right choice, but at least their son wouldn’t be on the streets.

“What happened?” Jacoby asked, as I drove us back to the house. He looked pale today, but I put that concern aside for now.

“Eliza and Clayton decided, against my advice, to give their son the boot. I told them it wasn’t the right choice, but they did it anyway. So, Corey will be staying with us while they figure out how to be parents to him again.”

We fell silent after that, though I know Jacoby had more he wanted to say. When we reached the house, I set Corey up in the guest room near ours, checked his bag and then told him to put his things away. Jacoby and I needed to decide on some rules so we’d have a clear understanding what was going on.

“Corey, there are going to be some rules while you’re here,” I told him and he nodded, leaning back on the loveseat. “First off, no drugs. I will be watching you, since I only work two days per week. The days that I work, Jacoby is home, so you won’t be able to bring drugs in. All of your bags will be checked to make sure there are no drugs and there will be random searches of your room. We’ll make you a chore chart and you’ll be expected to do your homework and then your chores after school. If there’s any fighting or any drug use, I’ll find an inpatient rehab program for you and toss you in that got me?”

He nodded and he looked scared. I know we’re going to have him for a while, but there won’t be any time for sulking as far as I’m concerned. With the rules laid out, I got some paper and a pen and drew a quick chart.

“Now, let’s talk chores,” I said, and my grandson groaned. But if he’s going to stay with us, he’s going to have work to do or he’s out. Shaking my head, I filled in the chores we had and then started assigning them. Maybe this will teach him a lesson.

4

“You did what?”

“I threw him out, Cilla. Dad stood right there and told me not to, but I did it anyway. You would not believe what we found in his room! He had a regular business going! I am so pissed off at him, you wouldn’t believe it.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering how best to advise my sister here. Clearly, she did what she felt was right, but it wasn’t necessarily the right thing to do. After all, if Jimmy is standing in your son’s room saying ‘don’t throw him out’, you should probably listen to him. On the other hand, we were raised to be independent and sometimes that leads to us making poor choices.

“Why did you throw him out if dad said not to? Of all people, dad should know! They threw me out and look what happened. Where’s he staying?” I asked, watching for the bus to bring the girls home from school.

She sighed and I knew she was pinching the bridge of her nose; we all do it. “He’s with our folks. I got an email from Jacoby saying that they’ve laid out some rules and punishments and such. He’s got chores and other things he’s going to be responsible for. I just don’t understand where we went wrong. He’s always been such a good kid, you know? And what does this show his siblings?”

“Hopefully, it shows them what not to do,” I told her, heading for the door as Ava’s bus pulled up. Why those two can’t ride the same bus is beyond me. I know the kindergarten is in a different building from the sixth grade, but still. “I mean, they’re smart, Liza. And so is Corey. This is probably just his teenage defiant stage that all kids go through. Ava’s only eleven and she’s already pushing buttons. Things will work themselves out, I promise, and this phase will pass.”

“I hope you’re right,” she said, as I heard a door open behind her. Star’s muffled voice was heard in the background and my sister sighed. “Gotta go, but I’ll keep you updated.”

I nodded, hanging up, as Ava ran in, dumped her bag, shed her coat, and went to her room. “Nice to see you, too,” I muttered, picking up her things. I took her bag to the table and then returned in time for Bethany to get home. “Hang up your coat and take your bag to the dining room table. I’m going to get your sister, so wait at the table for us.”

Bethany nodded, moving for the table. Shaking my head, I went up to Ava’s room and knocked on her door, confused when I heard sniffling.

“Ava?” I asked, knocking again. Her door was bright pink (I hate it) and it seemed especially bright today. “Ava, can mom come in?”

She didn’t answer, just continued to sob. I gently opened the door, surprised to see my normally outgoing girl curled up on her bed, her shoulders shaking as she cried. Is this going to be one of those winters with our kids? First Corey and drugs now Ava and…whatever it is.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” I asked, sitting on her bed. Her bedding was also bright pink, though we’d talked her into dark purple walls. She’d been asking to redecorate, and we were planning to help her with that this weekend. “Talk to me.”

“They hate me,” she sobbed, burying her face in a pillow. Well, this is nothing new for a girl her age. “They hate me, mom. They said I was worthless.”

“Kid are cruel, honey, especially in middle school. Why did they tell you you were worthless?”

She sighed, sobbing harder. “Because I’m adopted; because I don’t want to spend time with any of them. They said adopted kids are worthless.”

I sighed, having suspected this might happen as she got older. “You are not worthless, Ava, and you know that. Who cares if you were adopted, huh? We love you, your family loves you, everyone around you loves you. You don’t need approval from the kids at school, got me? How long as this been going on?”

She shrugged and I grew worried. “Since school started.”

Well, shit. It’s the middle of January and she hadn’t said a word to me. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ll get a hold of your teacher and see what can be done. I know kids are cruel, but you need to tell people when this happens, okay?”

She nodded, drying her face. I patted her shoulder and told her to come downstairs when she had composed herself. I didn’t like emailing teachers to complain, but if this has been going on this long, something has to be done. I don’t take bullying lightly (trust me, you try having two dads) and I won’t stand for it with my daughter.

“What’s wrong with Ava?” Bethany asked, as I got her a snack. We need to go shopping soon; we’re almost out of fruit again.

“Just some problems at school, honey, and I’ll take care of it. No one picks on you for being adopted, do they?”

She shook her head, taking out a worksheet on shapes. Why we put this kid in kindergarten is beyond me; she’s ready for first grade, but we decided she needed to start at the bottom just like her mother and me.

“No. Why?”

“Just curious,” I said, getting my laptop. I dashed off a quick email to Mrs. Peterson, her homeroom teacher, copying it to the principal, and hoped something would change. “Hey, Ava, what do you have for homework?”

I got her a bowl of fruit as well, as she sat down and opened her math book. It seems like their subjects are getting so much more complicated at a much earlier age, but so far, between Randi and I, we can answer her questions. I fear the day we can’t, however.

Watching the girls do their homework, I worked on some recipes for tonight. I have to work the next three days and Randi has to work the next two. Work has been very busy lately with interstate crashes and different ailments, and I’m ready for the slower spring season. In California people forget, for some reason, that the first rain brings slick roads because of the oils in the pavement. After the first rain, it’s no problem, but they’re all in such a damn hurry to get places and all they get is a ride in my chopper.

“Mom, I’m done with my homework,” Ava said, packing her things up. “Can I go outside?”

“Of course. Just don’t get too far because we’re going to eat as soon as your mom gets home, okay?”

She nodded, almost bolting out the door, already typing frantically on her phone. She does have friends, just not many and I don’t think any of them go to her school. Bethany went out after her and I started to cook, watching them out the kitchen window. I wouldn’t trade this life for anything right now.

***

It was a couple of days before I heard back from Ava’s teacher. She said she’d watch the situation and see what she could do. I suppose it’s the best I’m going to get from her; I’m about ready to plunk my daughter into private school, but it’s too expensive for what you get.

“Got a call,” Annie, our dispatcher said, and I took notes on the crash. PCH has been the worst of late, and our entire family has been avoiding if we can. It’s the most efficient way to get to HB for us, of course, but we’re still avoiding it as much as possible. “I wish people would remember to slow down.”

“Me, too,” I said, heading for the chopper. It’s never good when we’re called into help; HB has a big hospital but we’re able to take the really big stuff, so off we go. “Let’s go guys.”

As soon as we were in the air, we went over our strategy for on the ground. We needed to be efficient on the ground, and it’s better to go in prepared. We knew roughly what injuries to expect and as soon as we landed, I was in charge, yelling out orders. I loved being in charge and I was quick to triage and assign people. We had things under control in less than five minutes and I was proud of my crew. Our chopper can carry four at a time, so we loaded four in, flew them back, dropped them off, then went back for four more. Inside of half an hour, we were done and I was glad to get changed into a new flight suit. Being out here for the last ten years, we’ve gotten to know a couple of people, but thankfully, we didn’t know anyone in this wreck. I’ve had to bring friends in before and it sucks.

“When are you guys going into HB again?” Annie asked, as I started my report.

“This weekend, actually. We’re going to take the girls down on Friday after school to spend the weekend with my parents,” I told her, smiling. “Why?”

“Just wondering if you’d be willing to swing by that fantastic bakery that makes those amazing chocolate chip cookies you brought last time you went to HB.”

Laughing, I nodded. “I’d be happy to. How many do you want?” I asked, wondering if they had any clue that my dad had made said cookies.

“I’d like two dozen. How much are they a dozen?” she asked and I tried not to choke on my coffee.

“I’ll have to find out,” I told her, wondering if dad was going to be able to get that done in time. It’s Wednesday and he’s easy to tire these days. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks!” she said, turning back to her console as it sounded again. She sent an ambulance crew out to a nursing home as I finished my report and looked at the clock. I had two hours left of my shift and I was tired and ready to head for home. I have the next four days off and I can’t wait.

“Got another call,” Annie said an hour later. I took notes and then got my crew together. “Good luck.”

I nodded, as we hurried up to the flight deck. This crash involves a child and I hate those calls. It’s on the interstate this time and that means the injuries are always so much worse. Preparing my team for the worst, we waited while the chopper landed ten minutes later and then rushed to the scene.

“Let’s get the worst of them stable first and into the chopper. We’ve got kids this time, fair warning.”

My team has won awards for a reason: they didn’t question me; they just went right to work, getting people stable. I didn’t like that some people had been ejected from their vehicles. This crash had two adult fatalities but it seemed the kids were going to be okay. I’ll never understand why adults restrain their kids properly but not themselves. Your life is just as important, you know.

We only made one trip this time and reported off on our charges. The rest of the victims could go by ambulance and we had the kids stable. I know one is off to surgery for sure, but it looks like they’re going to survive.

“Get reports done and then you guys can get home,” our supervisor, Brandy Moore said, as we came out of the locker room. Third set of clothes for the day…this might be a record.

I was glad to get the paperwork done and was just clocking out when Randi hugged me from behind. “Ready to get home? There’s leftover chicken stuff from last night and I’m hungry. We’ll get the kids from Margaret’s and be home.”

Margaret Muller is our neighbor and she’s also our babysitter. The girls go there after school (we live in Irvine, so it’s not practical for our folks to take the girls after school), and they love this lady. She’s retired, in her 80s, and we’d be lost without her.

“After supper, what should we do?” I asked, pulling onto our street. When Margaret sees us coming, she usually brings the girls over. “Movie night?”

Randi nodded, as the girls called for us. Margaret walked with them and I hugged her tight. “How’d they do?”

“They were fine,” she assured me, smiling. “Ava got her homework done and we talked about the bullying problem. She said the teacher intervened today and things went better for her. Bethany has a permission slip for you to sign for a field trip they’re taking next week and she has to bring treats on Friday for a class party.”

With kids, it’s never ending, I swear. I thanked Margaret and we took the girls inside to get ready for supper. I was already making a mental note of everything we needed to do tonight and started to think our movie might never happen. Shaking my head, I pulled the leftovers out of the fridge and started reheating them. I love my kids, but once in a blue moon, I’d like a break.

5

“Shit.”

The alarm must not have gone off and I was going to be late for work. I bolted out of bed, hurried through my shower, grabbed an apple and was halfway out the door before I realized I hadn’t taken my morning meds. I’d recently been put on medication for reflux, which was apparently what the chest tightness was all about. With a sigh, since I was halfway through my apple, I ran back in and took it anyway. I really should’ve taken it half an hour before eating, but oh well. Jimmy’s already out of the house, so maybe he accidently shut off my alarm.

Luckily, I can walk to work and while I almost ran the short distance, I did make it only one minute late. I was already feeling the effects of the delayed medication for my stomach, but so be it; I’ll be fine in an hour or so.

“You okay, Coby?” my boss, Maria, asked, as I got coffee and then realized I didn’t bring lunch. It’s Monday, let me tell you.

“Yeah. I woke up late and didn’t get my new reflux medication on time. That means the apple I gulped down on my run here is fighting back. I’ll be fine in about an hour or so. I’ll also have to run home at lunch because I failed to bring it with me.”

She laughed, patting my back and smiled. “No worries, Coby. And please, don’t worry about being late. Get up, take your pills, wait your half hour, then eat. The customers are going to think I employ a zombie or something.”

I started laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe. Maria pretended to panic until I calmed down and then moved onto the sales floor. I had register duty today and was already starting to feel better. Maria knows what each of us likes to keep handy at the registers and sure enough, my bottle of Tums, a bottle of water, some tissues and hand sanitizer were all there.

“If you need anything, holler,” she said, as I started sorting through the early returns of the day. My shift didn’t start today until nine, so we’ve got a couple of hours of returns to go through. My day is kind of boring, fair warning.

I took me about an hour since I had customers, but I got the returns sorted and got the proper folks to put them back where they belong. From there, I checked out customers, organized the orders that came in, called the people for their orders, and answered questions as best I could. Again, working in a bookstore is not nearly as exciting as being a paramedic.

“Coby, you heading to lunch?” Maria asked around 1230 and I nodded, yawning a bit. “Time flies, huh?”

“It does when we’ve been busy,” I agreed, stretching a bit. I’d been working with orders for a while and between kneeling to shelve them and standing to work the register, my joints were starting to ache. “Mind if I run home to eat?”

She smiled, moving to take over the register for me. “Go for it. You get an hour, so don’t hurry back, got me?”

“Thanks,” I smiled, heading for the back room. I got my stuff and clocked out for my hour, already pondering the contents of our fridge. I hadn’t had time for my morning break and so I was starving. An apple just doesn’t hold me over like it used to a few years ago.

The walk home was nice, as it wasn’t terribly hot out today. January can go either way for us but this year it’s mild and I was glad for it. Entering the house, I smiled when the four cats greeted me, all meowing because I forgot to feed them in my rush to get out this morning.


“If I trip over you, I can’t feed you, guys,” I reminded them, carefully stepping around them. “Now, I’ll get your food and then get mine.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Jimmy called and I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Cats, too.”

The cats bolted to the kitchen and I laughed, trying to calm my pounding heart. “You scared me. I thought you were out of the house.”

He laughed, putting our plates on the table. Nothing fancy today, just some potatoes and chicken, seasoned with garlic.

“No, just for the morning; had a checkup with the lung doctor. I got a good report and he says the new medications are working. I also saw the memory doctor and he’s quite pleased with my progress. The medication is working and while I am having a few more forgetful moments right now, he doesn’t want to mess with things.”

“Sounds good,” I said, cutting into my chicken. It was very tender and moist and I gave him a thumbs up. “Good do.”

“Thanks.”

We ate quietly then, enjoying some of his homemade white cake for dessert. I was stuffed, but I had time before I had to walk back to work. My medication was doing its job, and I was feeling much better than most of the morning.

“How’s work today?” Jimmy asked, as we cleared the table and then moved outside for the remainder of my break.

“Busy. You can tell the weather’s nice again, as more people are out and about. But we’ve made a grand so far and I think the afternoon is going to be just as busy. We’ve also got a lot of orders in so that helps, too.”

“Did mine come in yet?” he asked, referring to a science fiction series he was reading right now.

“Not yet, but they just went in a couple of days ago. I’ll bring them home when they get in.”

We made small talk until it was time for me to go back and Jimmy decided to come shop for a while. Walking is good for his lungs and I encourage it at all times. While I went back to work, he browsed the shelves, finally picking out a few new books.

“Discount?” I asked and he nodded. “See you at home tonight.”

“Bye Jim!” Maria called and he waved, stealing a quick kiss over the counter before he left. “You’ve got a good guy there.”

I smiled, nodding. “I know. I’d be lost without him.”

“And he without you,” she told me, smiling. “Now, I’m going to have Carmen do register for a while. I want you to help me in the backroom, getting some of our new stuff on the floor. I need a buff guy like you for the task.”

Laughing, I followed her to the back, making sure I had my water, and wondered how my afternoon would be spent. I knew we’d gotten a lot of stuff in this morning, but I wasn’t prepared for just what awaited me in the backroom. Lucky for me, I had other helpers, because this was going to take a very, very long time.

***

“You guys want to help Carmen out front? She’s getting swamped,” Maria asked, coming into the backroom. We were half done with sorting and grateful for the break. “Then you can finish back here.”

I followed the others out front, quickly taking one of the registers while others helped with questions customers had. It’s a small bookstore, but we run two registers because Maria’s store is popular around town, and we get busy. Indeed, the lines at both were long but inside of about twenty minutes, we had everyone through.

“Thanks guys,” she said, when the store was empty again. “Back to work.”

Groaning good naturedly, the guys and I returned to the backroom. We had several more boxes to go through and get things on shelving carts for the after school kids to get out for us. It was almost 1530, so the kids would be coming soon.

“What are we doing today?”

A gaggle of voices met my ears, including that of my grandson Corey, newly hired on. He was still living with us, but speaking to his folks and I think he’s going to be going home soon. I love having him in the house, but it will be nice to see the family mended again.

“Start with the carts at the front,” I instructed them, feeling that strange tightness creep back into my chest. “We’ll have more as you guys get those done.”

The kids nodded filing out the door with the carts. There were only five of them, but they’d get the job done. I knew Corey was training since this was his first day, but I knew he’d do a good job. I decided to sit down for a moment, taking a swig of water.

“You okay, Coby?” Robin, one of our backroom managers asked, coming to sit next to me.

“I’ll be fine. I think it’s just more of that damn GERD. I’ll take some Tums and be fine,” I assured him, popping two of the chalky tablets. Apparently, the Tums company believe in “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”, because these things have NOT changed in years. “Just give me a second to rest.”

“No problem. Take all the time you need, we’ve got this under control.”

I nodded, though I felt bad; I never wimp out because of a little reflux, but this time it was really kicking my ass. I burped a bit and sure enough, the Tums kicked in. As soon as I felt better, I resumed my duties, knowing it was no good apologizing for my unintended break.

“Feeling better?” Robin asked, as I opened another box of books. I nodded and he nodded back. “Good. Take whatever breaks you need, okay?”

I nodded, putting the books in alphabetical order for the kids to shelve later. They were just coming back for the next round of carts and I waved to Corey.

“Are you doing a god job out there?” I asked him and he nodded, glancing at his partner. “Good. I’ll be out there in a bit to finish out the day, okay?”

He nodded, and I figured grandpa had talked long enough. Chuckling, I finished up in the backroom, then took my last hour up front. Carmen seemed to be swamped again and I knew Maria was working on the end-of-day books; it was after four already and we closed at six.

“I can help someone,” I said, accepting a stack of books. I was feeling a little lightheaded, but thought nothing of it; it happened sometimes after having an episode. “$40.00 even.”

I gave change, taking a deep breath as the room swam for a moment. Pain was radiating down my left arm and I moved to sit down, putting my head between my knees. I heard someone speaking to me, but I couldn’t hear very well; the blood was pounding in my ears.

I was starting to pass out, that much I knew, as the pain overwhelmed me. Someone lowered me to the floor, and I started to feel silly for telling Jimmy ghosts aren’t real; because if this wasn’t a ghost standing over me, then the urn at our house was filled with the wrong ashes. Mustering a smile, I looked into a pair of familiar blue eyes, noted the waist-length reddish/brown hair, and the stick-thin body. She was the spitting image of not only her father, but her twin sister and I had a sinking feeling I knew why she was here.

“Hey dad,” Penny said, taking my hand. The pain was gone and I swallowed hard. When she pulled me into a hug, I let my emotions spill over. “Not bad for a 35 year old, huh? Come on, a lot of people are waiting to see you.”

I followed my daughter out of the store, my last thought before I finally passed out thinking what a beautiful young lady our daughter had become.

6

I glanced down at my phone, as I finished the tattoo I was working on. It was just Jacoby, so it could wait a moment. I was supposed to sit down with he and Corey again tonight, so he can leave a message. As I wiped the excess ink and blood, I wrapped it and went over care instructions as dad called again.

“Call me if you need anything,” I told the customer, as I finally answered the phone. “Hey dad.”

“Didn’t think you were going to answer, mom,” Corey said and I became concerned. “Can you come to UC Irvine hospital? Grandpa Jacoby got flown here and I’m riding with Johnny and Grandpa Jimmy.”

“What’s going on?” I asked, becoming frantic as I ran for my office to grab my purse. “Star! Dad’s being life lighted to the hospital I gotta go!”

She waved me out the door as I flailed at my car doors to get them open.

“I don’t know. He just collapsed at work and someone did CPR on him. They took him to the hospital, Maria drove me and called Jimmy who had Johnny drive him because he was frantic and all, and then they put him on the chopper. I don’t know what’s going on, but Grandpa Jimmy is crying so I should be with him.”

“Okay. I’ll call your dad and we’ll be over as soon as we can.”

It was almost six now, and I had no idea what was going on. I could hear Jimmy sobbing in the background, and I hoped things weren’t too serious. I mean, it’s bad when HB hospital can’t take a patient, but it happens.

“Clayton! I’m picking you up for Irvine right fucking now,” I screamed into the phone, pulling into the parking lot of the photo studio. “Just put the damn camera down and come with me. NOW.”

Seconds later, he ran out of the building, confusion on his face as he jumped into my car. “What’s wrong?”

“Jacoby’s being life lighted to Irvine and we have to go now,” I ground out, but I never got the car in drive. Clayton came to stand on the driver’s side and made it clear I wasn’t driving. “Whatever. Just get us there.”

My mind was reeling with the thousand things that could be wrong. Maybe it was just the heat? But it wasn’t that warm today, really, only in the 60s. Maybe it was his GERD, and it wasn’t really as bad as it sounded. Lots of people pass out for different reasons. But then again, I’m no nurse.

I called Cilla, and she said Randi was driving them at blinding speed to the hospital. Their neighbor was going to get the girls; they’re lucky to live in Irvine. I then remembered that the younger kids were at daycare right now and they’d have to get picked up.

“Zach?” I asked, after making three attempts to dial his number. “Did you go to Irvine?”

“No, we’re going to wait for more news, as it sounds like they don’t want a big crowd there right now. I’ll get the girls from daycare and we’ll bring them up later.”

“Thanks,” I said, and after a quick call to the daycare, things were taken care of with no problem. “What could be wrong with Jacoby? He’s always so healthy.”

“We won’t know until we get there, honey. It could be anything or it could be nothing. I know that using life flight isn’t a good sign, but it’s been used before when things weren’t serious. We can’t think negatively right now.”

I nodded, closing my eyes as Clayton got onto the interstate. I knew I had to be positive, but it was hard. I hate to say it, but if it was Jimmy, I’d know pretty much what was wrong, but Jacoby is a mystery. Working to calm my breathing, I told myself it was no good speculating until we get there. I just had to stay calm through traffic.

***

My ringing phone woke me, as I noted we were in heavy traffic but making good time. It was Cilla and my heart started pounding.

“Cilla?”

She was crying and I feared the worse. “He’s in a coma, Eliza. He had a massive heart attack, but I guess having CPR at the store kept him from dying outright. Jimmy’s at his side and he’s not leaving and neither are we. We told Margaret to keep the girls for the night; they don’t need to see this. Johnny’s going to take Corey home if you want. Do you have care for your girls?”

“I-I do,” I responded, agreeing that the younger kids didn’t need to see this. “I’ll ask Zach to keep them the night. What are his chances?”

Clayton glanced at me, taking the exit for Irvine, as I waited to hear my dad’s fate. “Less than 50/50 but no major decisions need to be made right now. He’s vented but he’s got brain function, so unless that tanks, he’s got a fighting chance.”

The hospital was right in front of us and I resisted the urge to get out while the car was still rolling. “We’re here, Cilla, where are you guys?”

“ICU room two,” she told me, her voice wobbling again. “See you soon.”

I nodded, hanging up and practically jumping from the car. Clayton was asking Zach to keep the girls while I ran into the emergency room lobby, almost mowing down a nurse. I kept running, heading for the elevators; I knew where ICU was, since a friend had been there last year. When I finally stopped running, I almost collapsed into Clayton’s arms, as the weight of what was happening fell upon me.

“He’s going to make it, Liza,” he told me, but I didn’t believe him.

***

When I first saw Jacoby, I wasn’t sure I was in the right room. He looked pale and sick, lying in the bed, on the vent. Jimmy held me tight, and I know it was hard for him to let me go. I sat near Jacoby and took his hand, distressed when it was cold. Perhaps he’d died and we hadn’t noticed? But Cilla had said he had brain function and he wasn’t dead if he had brain function.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Dr. Sean Morano,” a voice said, as a short, stocky, dark-haired man entered Jacoby’s room. “I’m the doctor on the case and thought I’d give you an update.”

We all remained quiet, though Jimmy nodded for the doctor to continue. It seemed he didn’t have good news, but he was being careful with us, and I appreciated that. If dad wasn’t going to make it, I’d really like to know that now rather than get a surprise later.

“From our tests, including data gained when he went into the cathlab upon arrival, it appears that Jacoby has suffered a massive heart attack. Unfortunately, his options are very limited at this time. Normally, I’d head the patient into surgery for a pacemaker, possibly an artificial heart; however, this is not an option for him. It appears that he’s had several smaller heart attacks over a period of a few months. Of course, I can’t tell exactly how long, but his records indicate that he’s been seeing a doctor for what was diagnosed as reflux. Given the damage in his esophagus, which is how food gets to the stomach, I agree. But it appears that he’s also had heart disease for some time. So, all we can do is wait. There is damage to the heart muscle, and that could be fixed in surgery. But it appears that his arteries and the mechanics of the heart are also damaged and I can’t replace those as easily. We’re going to take this by hours, okay? If, after 24 hours there is no change, we’ll have to discuss what options might be available.”

I was starting to feel numb; all this new technology and it couldn’t save my dad. I was angry, but Clayton kept me from lashing out at the doctor. After all, the man was only doing his job and if there were no options, there were no options.

“Why can’t he have an artificial heart?” Jimmy asked, clinging to dad’s hand. “I mean, I know it’s new technology, but if it’s available, why not use it?”

The doctor looked a bit uncomfortable for a moment and I felt for him. But dad’s fighting for his spouse, who cannot fight for himself right now, and we all felt for him. We have all this new technology staring us in the face, and the doctor is telling us that Jacoby is going to give in to an old fashioned heart attack.

“Because the technology is so new is part of it. But also, the technology can’t heal the arteries and other areas of the heart. The artificial heart replaces only the organ; so if there’s damage to the arteries, it won’t help anything. Also, when Jacoby collapsed, it appears he let loose a blood clot. He’s getting clot busting medication, but the clot seems to be travelling to his brain. There’s a 98% chance we’ll bust the clot before it hits the brain; if not, he likely won’t survive the massive stroke that could hit. I don’t have the technology to go in and vacuum that clot out, either. We can really only wait, Mr. Shaddix. I wish I had better news, but time is all we have right now. I’m sorry.”

He left the room as Jimmy broke down. I can’t imagine how hard this must be for him, having their roles reversed. Jacoby would be able to handle this, but Jimmy can’t, it’s too much for him. I watched as he held Jacoby’s hand, sobbing into it, and I felt so helpless.

I moved over to Jimmy and took him into my arms, missing my grandparents more and more as the minutes ticked by. “He’s going to pull through, dad, he’s a fighter. I know it sounds grim, but hopefully it’s less grim than thought, right?”

He nodded, still sobbing, as he looked at my dad. I’ve never seen Jacoby look so fragile and pale and it drove home that he might not make it. I knew we all had to be strong for Jimmy, but this is my dad and I’m not ready to lose him. I know his age counts again him (the man is 73, after all), but he was so healthy and now this?

“I don’t know, Liza,” dad sniffed, holding me tight. “I know he’s strong, but this time, he might not have it in him. He’s never been this sick before, you know? It’s always been me that’s this sick and my body just heals over time; not so Jacoby. He’s hardly ever been sick, only been in the hospital a handful of times, and a couple of those were planned. He’s got 24 hours, Liza, and that’s it. How can a doctor put a limit on life like that?”

I had no answers, as Cilla came up on Jimmy’s other side and we formed a family unit. I knew that things were going poorly for Jacoby just looking at him. I suppose Cilla is better informed than me, since she’s a nurse and all, but it’s not hard to see that he’s struggling right now. Even on the ventilator, I know his end is near. He’s a strong man, normally healthy, but if the damage has been done as the doctor suggests, than this might be Jacoby’s last chance.

“We just have to be strong for him,” Cilla said, as we watched Jacoby. It amazes me how medical technology changes and yet remains stagnant. “No matter what happens, we have to be here for him now.”

We were quiet then, our spouses giving us our time alone. It’s so strange to think that, after all these years, it’s been the four of us, and three of us always end up sitting around while one fights for life. Usually, it’s Jimmy with his lungs; once it was Cilla from a drug overdose. But Jacoby? With him it’s always been so simple: a bout of pneumonia here, a planned surgery there, but nothing serious, not until now. I didn’t know how to function in this moment even though I was practiced at it.

“If it comes down to it, we need to make the decision together,” Jimmy decided, and he didn’t have to tell us what he meant. “Agreed?”

“Yes,” Cilla said, and I nodded. “It’s only fair. But with luck, it won’t come to that. The clot busters now are so much better than they’ve been in years and they work so much faster now. Jacoby just hast to pull through.”

We fell silent again, an unusual state for us. Even when Jimmy was at his worst, we’d all sit around visiting, sometimes laughing, because we knew it was serious but he’d pull through. But this was different; here, there were no guarantees.

“Come on dad,” I said, looking at Jacoby, as the ventilator moved his chest up and down. “You’re strong and I still need you, the grandkids still need you, so don’t you even think about leaving us.”

There was no response, of course, and I hadn’t exactly expected one. Cilla took his hand and sighed, kissing it lightly; we’d always been close and affectionate with each other.

“Dad, come on. You’re stealing Jimmy’s thunder here,” she told him, and we all kind of chuckled. “But really, dad, come on.”

No response. Jimmy stood for a moment and we went with him, confused when he shook his head. “I need some time. I promise, I’ll be just outside in the courtyard.”

“We’ll be here,” I said, and it was clear that we trusted him. He nodded, heading outside, as I got coffee. It was going to be a long night and I was going to need something to keep me going.

7

There are few times in my life that I miss smoking. But in times of high stress, I wish I had a cigarette to puff away on. I used to smoke two packs a day and while I know that quitting was the best thing I’ve ever done, I’m considering starting up again.

“Fuck!” I shouted, moving through the courtyard to a bench situated near a wooded area. “You’d better not die on me, you mother fucker!”

I sank onto the bench, listening as the oxygen hissed into me. I still needed it, as going without causes many, many problems. I can’t imagine life without Jacoby, I just can’t. I always figured I’d die first, considering my health problems. But there he is, fighting for his damn life. I’m the one with the bad heart, so why isn’t it me in there? I’m always the one fighting for my life, and now our roles are reversed; I don’t know how Jacoby does this.

“God damn it,” I muttered wiping at my face. I knew that the next 24 hours would be critical, they always are. In 24 hours I had to make a decision that I didn’t think I was qualified to make, really. “You have to pull through, Jacoby.”

I’m talking to myself and I don’t even care. I can’t live without Jacoby, it’s that simple. He makes sure I eat, get my meds, shower, etc. He’s there when my memory acts up (the medication is losing its power, just a tad), he’s there when I can’t breathe, when the loss of mom and dad is just too much. In the weeks after dad’s passing I held it together but then I broke. He was there for me the entire time, while I worked with a counselor and learned to live without my dad.

“Dad?”

I looked up, as Eliza joined me on the bench. She handed me some coffee, which I accepted even though it tasted rancid. I guess I needed it to keep going, but I’d have to show them how to make coffee.

“He’s going to make it, isn’t he?” she asked, her earlier positivity gone.

I shrugged, taking a sip of the hot, black beverage. “I don’t know, hon. If he’s had as massive a heart attack as it sounds, there’s a chance he won’t. If the heart muscle is damaged, that can be fixed, sometimes, but not if the arteries and things are also damaged. Also, if that blood clot gets loose, he’s probably going to be in dutch.”

My daughter nodded, leaning her head on my shoulder. We’d always been a close family and I knew this was going to get us through this. I leaned my head on hers and sat with her like that for a good long while, father and daughter, trying to remain strong.

***

The first 24 hours seemed to pass quickly. I slept in a recliner at Jacoby’s bedside, charging my oxygen through the night. The nurses didn’t even try to make me leave, though they did get the girls to sleep in the lobby. When I woke the next morning around seven, in time for shift change, I knew something was different with Jacoby. The tech and nurse conferred quietly at the doorway, pointing to the notes in their hands and gesturing to the bed on occasion. The nurse apparently unaware that I was watching, took out her phone and then closed the door, but I know she was calling the doctor.

“Morning, Coby,” I said, taking his right hand. It was a little stiff, and colder than usual. I looked at the heart monitor, which continued in a slow, but normal rhythm. But something was different, and I looked him over, wondering what it was. There were no signs of a stroke, and he seemed to be resting comfortably. “Honey, what’s wrong? You seem different this morning.”

His heart monitor beeped for a moment, and I observed a long pause. Swallowing hard, I watched the rhythm come back, but it was very irregular. He’s gone back into a-fib…no, I take that back. He’s got what’s called a complete block and the only usual cure is a pacer. Of course, that option was taken off the table yesterday. I watched as the girls came in, the doctor right behind them. His face told me what he was going to say before he said it.

“Jacoby’s heart is failing, Jimmy,” he told me, point blank. I do appreciate an honest doctor, but right now, I wish he’d lie to me. “I can attempt an external pacer to see if an implanted pacer would help, but as it looks right now, even with a pacer, he won’t make it the morning.”

The doctor stood back for a moment while I looked at the girls. “What do you think we should do?”

“If he’s not in there and all we’re doing is prolonging the inevitable, we should disconnect life support,” Cilla said, the nurse in her speaking out.

“He’s my dad, though,” Eliza protested, looking to the bed. I think she saw that he was no longer her dad, but a shell of her dad. “But if he’s suffering, I suppose the right thing to do is let him go.”

“It’s not easy, girls,” I told them, glancing at my husband. I knew it was the right thing to do, but it was the hardest thing to do. “But if he’s suffering, we should put him out of his misery.”

We were quiet for a moment, holding each other, then I nodded to the doctor. He came forward, ready to hear our decision.

“We’ve decided as a family to disconnect life support,” I said, choking up. “Uhm, we’ve got all our arrangements pre-paid in Iowa.”

“Not a problem. We have a local funeral home that will deal with everything. I’ll go ahead and begin the process and you can have time to say goodbye.”

It took only a few minutes until Jacoby was off life support. I was hoping he’d be like in the movies and wake up, all fine, but of course, I wasn’t that naive. This isn’t the movies and he’s not going to wake up. I kissed his lips, unaccustomed to the lack of response from him. The girls were crying and I wanted to comfort them, but I needed comforting myself.

“Jimmy?”

I looked toward the door, seeing Matt standing there with Val; someone had called them and I was grateful. I embraced them both, sobbing, before I returned to Jacoby’s side. His heart was slowing now, as it had been for the last several hours. I held his hand, wiping my face even though it was pointless.

“I love you, Jacoby. Thanks for saving me, staying with me, and always being there for me. I don’t think I can live without you, but I’m going to try. Be with Penny, okay? I bet she misses her folks.”

In the silence that followed, marred only by sniffles, I looked up at the heart monitor over his bed. I will never forget how it felt to watch his heart stop.

***

In five years of living in California, all of our friends have moved to other states for the most part. As I dialed Hollister and Randy’s number in Oklahoma, I wondered what it would be like to be reunited in Iowa. The local funeral home taking care of things had walked me through the entire process of returning Jacoby home to Iowa, and it wasn’t as expensive or complicated as I feared.

“Hollister? It’s Jimmy,” I said, my voice hoarse as I started crying again. “J-Jacoby passed away this morning.”

“Oh honey!” she whispered and I wished she was here right now. “What happened?”

I cleared my throat, grateful for the bottle of water Eliza put in front of me. “He, uhm, he collapsed at work yesterday. He was in a coma and things were going very poorly for him. We chose to take him off life support this morning and he passed in about five minutes. We’re going to have the service in Iowa, of course, but we’re still working on the details. I just wanted to call everyone and let them know.”

“Of course, honey. You give us the date and we’ll be home I promise you. I’m so sorry. All things considered, how are you holding up?”

I shrugged. “It hasn’t quite sunk in yet, I guess. The girls are here, of course, and my friends. But we lost dad five years ago and now Jacoby; I don’t know what do, Hollister.”

I broke down once again, as Hollister tried to comfort me from thousands of miles away. “We’ll be in Iowa, honey. I wish we could be there in California right now,” she told me, as I calmed myself. “If you need anything, you call, got me? I will fly out to California if you need me to.”

“I’ll let you know. I’m glad to have you,” I told her, as we hung up. I had one last call to make and dialed Sean’s number, listening at Randi spoke to Marg. The girls were almost zombies at this point, and I couldn’t say I blamed them. “Sean? It’s Jimmy.”

“Hey!” he greeted me, clearly happy for the call. We’ve kept in touch, of course, and I know he’s going to be devastated. “What’s up?”

“J-Jacoby passed away this morning.”

There was a very long pause, a thump, and then rustling before his husband Aaron came on the phone. “Jimmy? Sean just passed out, what’s going on?”

I started crying again, feeling a hand on my shoulder. I handed the phone to Michelle, who explained things to Aaron. She nodded, thanked him and hung up.

“They’ll be there, Jimmy,” she assured me, setting my phone down. The calls were made, my sisters have just arrived and I suddenly have a house full of people when I most want to be alone. “The details can wait a few minutes; let’s go outside.”

I nodded, allowing her to lead me outside to the deck. Jacoby loved our gardens out here, as we’d managed to replicate our successes in Iowa. We even had a farmer’s market stall out here and then I thought about the fact that we were supposed to sell tonight.

“I won’t be at the market tonight,” I whispered, looking around at the gardens. I needed to pick things again. Standing, the oxygen still hissing into me, I grabbed the baskets we used and went for my vegetables. “Someone needs to go for me.”
We started picking tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, chard, you name it. I got some dirt under my nails and thought how Jacoby would love to be helping right now. “If you want someone there tonight, I’ll go.”

“I’d like that,” I said, thinking how perfect the tomatoes were. Of course, it just made it seem more real that Jacoby wasn’t here, that he was lying in a funeral home, being prepared for his final flight home to Iowa. He’d never see the farm again and I put the tomato in the basket, sitting back, crying once again. I thought it was hard to lose my parents, but somehow, becoming a widower was even worse. “He’s never going to see the farm again. We were going to go back for Thanksgiving this year; everyone was going to meet up at the farm. Alise and her husband were going to host us and everything. We’ve only been home once in five years, when Sean had everyone out for Hollister’s retirement. We were going to go back more often, but everyone moved. I know it was good coming here, but part of me wishes we’d never left.”

I was picking up handfuls of dirt and letting them thread through my fingers, as I cried. Michelle held me, before we resumed picking vegetables. I needed the distraction, knowing that my phone would be answered and my girls cared for. We’d decided to wait to tell the grandkids until school was out. We were flying out in two days but I didn’t know yet when the funeral would be. When the buckets were full, we put them in the garage and I saw the little shed we’d put in for our winter toys. Would I still go north this winter?

“I’m glad you guys are here, Michelle,” I said, as she walked me back into the house. “I didn’t expect all of you to take the day off like this.”

“We wouldn’t be able to work right now, anyway. We’ve all made arrangements so that our businesses are taken care of when we fly out for the funeral as well. We’re all going to be here for you, Jimmy, no matter what.”

I hugged her before walking back into the house, seeking out my girls. Clancy and Abba, nine years old now, were so confused, while Eleanor and Oliver took little notice of the chaos. My phone was in the hands of Val while I sat with my girls, whose spouses were here as well. Johnny was missing and Zach too; Gena said they were getting the grandkids from school. Life was going on around us, even if time had stopped for us at 0800 on August 17th, 2048.

8

Dad’s gone. What the hell? Here I sit, on a plane bound for home, knowing that dad’s down in the god damn cargo hold. How did this happen? I mean, clearly he had a heart attack and that killed him, more or less, but how did it happen? How did my dad go from fine to dead inside of twenty four hours?

“Welcome to Omaha,” the pilot droned at us, but I blocked him out. I didn’t care if I was returning home, if I was going to return home, it shouldn’t be for dad’s funeral.

“Come on Cilla,” Randi said, as she helped me stand. I’d spent the entire flight in silence, tending to my girls as necessary, wondering just how I was going to live without my dad. “I’ve got the girls.”

I nodded, helping dad off the plane. He was…here, but not here, if that makes any sense. I think he was going through the motions of the day, but I’m not entirely sure he was all there. I had been staying with dad since Jacoby passed just to make sure he took his medications; now would not be the time for his dementia to flare up.

“Dad, come on,” I said, moving him toward the baggage claim area. “They’ll take dad to the funeral home from here.”

Jimmy nodded, his eyes red and swollen, as we moved onto the escalator and down into the baggage area. I grabbed the suitcases I recognized, as the rest of our California crew filtered in and got theirs. We might have been half the flight, now I think about it. I don’t think anyone from California stayed behind, I really don’t. All of my cousins are here and so are my cousins kids, all of dad’s friends are here, and I know a couple of my co-workers said they were coming out.

“Where are we staying?” dad asked, moving robotically toward my mother-in-law. This has been a tough decision to make, as we didn’t want a hotel, but most of our crew was getting hotel rooms because there were so many of them.

“The farm,” I told him, and hugged him when he started crying again. Since it was August, the humidity was killer, but the gardens would be in amazing shape. “Maybe you can find a hammock.”

You might remember dad’s system of hammocks he’d had when they lived out here; he brought them to California, though there were only two trees for him to use. I had called Alise ahead, once we’d decided that our little contingent was staying out there, and asked her to put a couple out. I ordered them for her and Garrison, her husband, had put them up.

“Maybe,” he said, as he held Marg. She held him tight, because she’d been a widow for many, many years. She understood better than anyone what dad was going through. “Marge, thanks for picking us up.”

“Any time,” she said, as Alise and Garrison came up to me. “Are you guys staying at the farm?”

Jimmy nodded, as I hugged Alise. “Thanks for letting us stay,” I told her, wiping at my eyes.

“It’s your house, too,” she assured me, as I moved over to Garrison. We’d never been close, but we always got along. “Your folks still own it, you know. And we’re in Eliza’s room, so your dad can have his room and you can have yours. Eliza said the basement was fine, since it’s re-finished, even though we offered her our room.”

“We appreciate it nonetheless.”

We finally moved our entire contingent outside, most heading for the car rentals, including Eliza and me. Marg said she’d get dad to the farm and I thanked her; I don’t think he’s functional. Once we had our car and it was loaded, including the booster seats for the girls, we headed north. We didn’t need a map, trust me, we could get home no matter how long we’d been gone. Since leaving Iowa for California, Randi and I try to come back every summer to see Marg, unless she’s hosting Christmas, as she is this year.

“I can’t believe this, Randi,” I muttered, as she turned onto the gravel. I hadn’t been out here in a while; we didn’t make it out see the farm last year. “I want to see Penny’s tree. I had the eeriest feeling when life support was disconnected and I swear I saw a figure by dad’s bed. You suppose it might be Penny?”

Even though we have very different beliefs, Randi nodded, checking traffic before she turned onto our gravel road. “It’s possible. It would be fitting, if you think about it. She’s been without her folks for 35 years and that’s a long time. I’ve been without my dad since I was eight, and it’s not easy.”

I nodded, watching as the farm came into view. It looked very much as it had when I was growing up, only the trees were taller. Penny’s tree looked amazing in the late summer. The leaves were full of color and the tree provided amazing shade. As we pulled into the yard, in my customary parking spot, I waved to Alise, who was just getting out of her car with Garrison.

“How was the flight?” she asked, hugging me.

“It was fine. Eliza and Marg shouldn’t be too far behind.”

We moved into the house, as the kids ran, looking for yard toys. Since Alise and Garrison didn’t have or want kids, I hadn’t expected toys. Instead, there was a swing set, a sandbox, and several other outside toys for the girls to play with.

“My sister has kids and they stay with us on occasion. We got the toys for them,” she explained, opening the back door; it was new and red, which seemed strange to me. “Your room is where it always was, as is Jimmy’s. Eliza and Clayton are going to be downstairs. I’ve got dinner in the crock pot, so we can eat whenever. I imagine you guys will have to be at the funeral home at some point?”

I nodded, as I moved upstairs to my old room. I couldn’t count the nights Randi and I spent in here, hanging out, getting into trouble, sneaking out, you name it. Now, there was a full size bed and two twin air beds, done up in the girl’s favorite colors. They didn’t seem to understand what was going on and I was glad for that, as they played outside with their cousins. I knew everyone was checking into their hotels in Omaha now, and we’d all meet out here for supper. Alise had always been a traditional woman and believed it was her duty to take care of Garrison and the house. Since he was an orthopedic surgeon, I don’t think she’s worked a day since they got married.

“I’ll also be hosting supper here, so everyone knows to be here by six tonight,” she said, and I nodded, walking downstairs with her. Eliza and Clayton were just coming into the kitchen from downstairs and all at once I was homesick for the farm. “Oh honey, it’ll be okay. Not for a while, but it will, in time. This house is all yours, okay? You make yourself right at home and enjoy being back home for a few days.”

I nodded, wiping my once for the millionth time, as Alise went up to shower. Jimmy was walking in with Marg, and I noticed his oxygen was hissing a little louder; no doubt the humidity was getting to him. He settled onto the couch, winded, and I went to sit with him. This is why they left Iowa and I can see they made the right choice.

“Dad?”

He held me tight, as I turned up his oxygen just a bit. I’d checked the forecast for the week or so we were going to be here and every day was supposed to be hot and humid just like this. I just hope dad makes it through the burial without passing out. I know there are chairs and a tent to sit under, but still.

“I miss him, Cilla,” he sniffled, as I rubbed his back. “I miss him. I miss this house, this farm, the years we spent here. But most of all, I miss him. I don’t know how to live without Jacoby.”

“I know, daddy, I know,” I said, feeling like a child again. Dad used to comfort me just like this when I’d get my heartbroken, skin my knee, break a bone, you name it. We’d sit side by side on the couch and he’s comfort me, rubbing my back, as I’m doing for him now. “I miss home, too, I really do.”

Eliza joined us, holding dad on his left side, as we all cried. It was hard without Jacoby and he’d only been gone two days. I can’t imagine how the years are going to go by for us without him; maybe they won’t, maybe time will stop and we can just go back to when dad was alive and well.

“If you guys want to eat, food is ready,” Alise said, gently, and I nodded, pulling dad to his feet. “You do need to eat, Jimmy, okay? I don’t want you passing out during the service or burial.”

Dad nodded, taking a seat at the expanded table. “Are Tony and them here yet?”

Alise nodded, checking her phone. “Just got in and are getting their hotel rooms in Omaha. They’ll be out here for supper. I’ve got some friends helping me, but we’re going to spend the afternoon making burgers and stuff for tonight. We’ll start grilling around 1830 and go from there. Three meals a day, Jimmy, promise?”

He nodded, taking a helping of tavern meat and placing it on a bun. He was actually eating and I was proud of him for that. He took some chips and dip, a glass of water, and didn’t seem repulsed by food. I was worried that he’d end up in the hospital for not eating, but so far, so good.

“It’s very good,” I said, working on my second sandwich. I hadn’t expected to be hungry, but hunger was running me over like a freight train. “I didn’t think I’d be hungry, but I have been very hungry.”

“I know it’s hard to eat a time like this,” she said helping Bethany with her sandwich. “But it’s important. I’ll make sure that you guys eat if you promise not to fight me on it.”

We all nodded, even the kids, though I suppose they didn’t exactly understand what was going on. Corey did, but Corey was also there when his grandfather collapsed and I knew he was in counseling for that. He was having nightmares and Eliza said his previous behavior had stopped for now.

“You’re going to have a yard full tonight,” Eliza pointed out, helping Marianna get some more macaroni salad.

“I know, but we’ve got enough space. I’ve already lined up some extra grills and some extra helpers to make food. While you guys are at the funeral home, the kids can help, too, in between playing.”

“Thank you so much for watching them this afternoon,” I said, wiping my mouth. “We don’t want them to be bored at the funeral home. There are a lot of decisions to make and it’ll be easier without them under foot.”

“That’s what we figured,” Garrison said, nodding. “I’ve taken time off through Monday for this, so we’re here as long as you need or want us to be. We’ll watch the kids, we’re here to talk, you name it.”

“We appreciate it,” Jimmy said, his voice raspy and cracking. He looked his 67 all at once and it bothered me. “We’re going to be kind of in and out while we’re here, I’m afraid.”

“And we expect that. You do what you need to and we’ll take care of the rest.”

We all fell silent after that, finishing our meal. There were a variety of sweets to follow and everyone found for a brownie or a piece of pie or cake. Alise was a phenomenal cook and baker and I knew we’d be well cared for while we were here.

***

The afternoon was harder than I thought it would be. Dad had arrived safe and sound and the funeral home in California had taken care of the embalming for us. We were paying for everything through Amman-Hennesy funeral home in Mondamin so at least that was taken care of. We had to finalize arrangements, of course, even though Jacoby had everything pre-planned. Some of the things he wanted were no longer available, such as the casket he’d picked out. We had to pick out another one in the same price range and I think he’d like what we got.

The music was finalized, since that was the easiest part; the songs he liked were still available. Dad asked to see Jacoby and so we were taken downstairs, were final preparations were in progress. Dad had a certain suit he wanted him to wear, and so had brought that along in the suitcase rather than risk injury to it in the cargo hold.

“I’d like him to wear this,” dad said, handing over the garment bag. “It’s his EMT uniform and I wouldn’t want him in anything else.”

“Of course,” the director, Chris Samuelson said, nodding. “Is there any jewelry you want to keep?”

Dad nodded, taking a deep breath upon seeing dad. He was mostly covered with a sheet, but his face was visible and he didn’t look right being so discolored. Of course, that will be fixed with makeup, but it’s still hard to see.

“Yes. I’d like his wedding ring and I’ve got some medals that I’d like displayed with him. They’re on the uniform. They’re his milestone pins from work and his he’s got an EMT ring he got upon retirement; I’d like that back as well after the service.”

The director made notes, doubled checked the outfit dad had brought and made sure he had the medals and rings noted as well. He was very efficient and I appreciated that.

“All right. Everything is ready to go for Friday morning. Family should arrive at 0930 so we can go over any last minute details or if there are any hiccups with equipment for music and the video. The service will be at 10, burial to follow in Morgan Township Cemetery. Luncheon will follow at the Mondamin community center.”

Dad nodded, and with that, it was almost over. He was given some time with Jacoby as we moved into the hallway to give him some privacy. I would be taking time with my dad as well, as the director wanted all of us to have our time. But it was going to be hard and I was dreading tomorrow. I have a feeling when this is all over and we’re back in California, dad’s either going to crack or he’s going to hold together. But I’m not getting my hopes up, considering I can hear him sobbing out here. The director went into the room to check on him and I sighed; Jacoby needs to come back.

9

“Oh daddy,” I said, looking at his face. He looked so relaxed and serene and I know it’s been years since he’s been this relaxed. “You did your best for Jimmy, you really did. He’s really scared, you know, doesn’t think he can go on without you.”

He continued to lay there, simply waiting for another guest. I knew my time was limited with him, but I didn’t want to leave. There was so much I wanted to tell him, so many things we had yet to do.

“I think Corey’s going to work out okay,” I told him, touching his hand. I recoiled when it was so cold, but gently touched it again. “I’m going to bring him home, dad, I promise. And we’re going to work this out with him, because it wasn’t right to throw him out. Jimmy was right, but I didn’t listen. I have to go now, they’re going to prep you for tonight. But we’ll be at the funeral home tomorrow night and Friday for the funeral, of course. I’m not ready to stay goodbye, but it’s time, isn’t it?”

Sighing, I moved out of the viewing room, wanting to remember dad when he was alive. His hair had thinned and greyed over the years, his face had wrinkled and he’d had a bit more of a stomach than in years past. But he was still my dad and that’s all that mattered to me. When I left the room, I embraced my dad, wishing I could hold onto him forever.

“Let’s get back to the farm,” I told my husband, wiping at my eyes. “Where are the kids?”

“They went with Alise and Garrison.”

I nodded, making sure I had everything. I took my husband’s hand, sighing as we left the funeral home. I remember when Monet’s father died and all of the things she went through. I was there for her every step of the way and I missed her tonight.

“Thinking about Monet?” Clayton asked and I nodded, as he drove out of Mondamin and out to the gravel. “I’m sure she’s here in spirit.”

I nodded, wishing it was true. I’d lost Monet last year to a distracted driver and I’d thought there was no bigger pain in the world until I lost Jacoby. I remember her funeral in Denver, where she’d stayed her whole life. She’d never married, never dated, but she had a few close friends. Losing her dad two years before had been hard enough on her mom; to have her only daughter killed last year almost did her in. Last I knew, she was in a nursing home in Omaha and I was going to have to visit her while we were home.

“I need to go visit Alexandria while we’re home. I don’t know if she’ll remember me, but I need to see her. Maybe Saturday.”

“We’re home until Wednesday, so take your time.”

Home. I have felt at home in California since the day I landed out there for school. But right now, Iowa felt more like home. I’m not moving back, because I’m content with my shop and Clayton with his business, but I miss the farm. I think it’s natural to miss things like this when you have a death in the family, but I really miss the farm right now.

“Jimmy, listen to me,” I heard Matt saying as they sat around the pool. Clayton and I had just arrived and I shook my head. “Jacoby wouldn’t want this, okay? Just trust me. Sit with me and talk whatever you need to do but please don’t think about drinking.”

I sighed; dad’s going downhill already and we’re not even to the funeral yet. I knew Matt had things under control and while I felt bad for doing it, I went inside with my husband, heading down to our room to check on the kids. I’ve got enough on my plate right now and I don’t need the stress of Jimmy.

***

Friday August 21st dawned early, hot, and humid. Everyone was to be at the funeral home by nine, and there were a lot of people to get around first. I started with Marianna, since Corey and Rhiannon could largely handle themselves. Alise was taking care of Jimmy with help from Matt, who had stayed last night. He managed to keep Jimmy sober all night and I was glad. But I knew that we had our work cut out for us when we got home.

“Come on, guys, time to get up,” I said, rousing the kids. They’d all chosen to sleep in the main room last night after watching movies and I envied them their naivety. “We’ve got to keep moving this morning. Let’s be on our best behavior, please.”

By 0830 we’d managed to get everyone showered, fed, and were now getting into dress clothes. We had time, since Mondamin was only about ten minutes from the farm, but being it was the funeral, no one wanted to get dressed.

“You ready?” Clayton asked and I nodded, moving upstairs. I was in a plain black dress with a matching pair of flats. I was wearing a necklace Jacoby had given me for my 30th birthday, which was a plain silver chain with a charm on it. The charm was a tattoo gun, which he’d had custom made for me. “Let’s go.”

Following the family out, I watched as Matt practically carried dad out to the car. Corey hugged close to me and I saw the hunted look in his eyes; I don’t think he’s ever going to forget this. I held him tight, reminding myself that, despite our problems, he was my son and I loved him.

“Eliza? Cilla? Will you ride with Matt and me? If Randi and Clayton don’t mind,” Jimmy said, standing near a standard grey, four door rental sedan.

“Go ahead,” Randi said and Clayton nodded, kissing me. “We’ll see you at the funeral home.”

I crawled into the back seat with my sister, rubbing dad’s shoulder for a moment. His hair, which he kept shoulder length these days, seemed greyer than last night. The wrinkles on his face seemed deeper. I know I felt older and I certainly felt unprepared to lose my dad when I was only 37 years old.

“It’s going to be okay dad,” I said, as we pulled up to the funeral home. The funeral wasn’t until ten, but a few people had already arrived. “Come on, dad.”

I held him on his right and Priscilla on his left as we walked into the funeral home together. Dad was a mess, which I expected, but I hope he can hold it together during the service. Matt’s going to read a statement dad wrote, because he won’t be able to speak and we all know that.

“Good morning,” Chris said, shaking hands with all of us. “We’ll let you guys see Jacoby before the service and then we’ll begin. We’re holding everyone out here until you guys are ready. I understand that someone will read your speech, Jim?”

Dad nodded, wiping at his eyes. “Yes. I don’t think I can stand up there—and talk about Jacoby.”

“Not a problem. We’ve got the air going in there as well and if it’s too cold, just let us know.”

I nodded, as we followed the director into the viewing room. Dad was a believer but not religious, so a friend was going to give the service and keep it mostly non-denominational. We walked up to the casket together and that’s when it hit me that this was the last time I was going to see my dad. Ever.

“Liza, honey, sit down.”

Someone slid a chair under me and I bent over, my head between my knees. Chris gave me a trash can and I worked hard not to lose my breakfast. How is it that it’s been four days since my dad collapsed and three since he died and now I lose it?

“Just breathe, honey,” Chris said. I kept my head down as someone put a cool cloth on my neck and I felt Clayton’s hand on my arm. “Just breathe.”

I took a couple of deep breaths before I slowly lifted my head. I avoided looking at Jacoby and focused on my husband, who rubbed my back. I had to block my mind for a moment and forget what today was if at all possible, even for a moment.

“Thanks,” I croaked out, still trying not to vomit. “It-it just hit me what today is, that’s all.”

“That’s completely normal,” the director assured me, staying near. I saw another man nearby, probably his brother considering they look alike. “Just take your time, okay? Adam, can you get me some ice water?”

The other man nodded, as dad and Cilla watched from the chairs next to me. I took a moment to look at my dad noting that he didn’t look to be in much better shape than me. He offered me a wobbly smile as Cilla held him.

“Here you go, Miss.”

I overlooked being called Miss and accepted the water, barely seeing the pointed look Chris shot at his brother. The water seemed to settle me and I smiled.

“Thanks. I’m sorry for my reaction,” I told Chris, as I put the trash can down.

“Don’t think any more of it. It’s a normal reaction. We’ll give you all some time with Jacoby before we have everyone come in.”

Chris and Adam left and I slowly stood up, glad for the support of my husband. I approached the casket, looking at my dad. He’d been coiffed by the staff, his uniform on, medals on display; he looked great. I knew, of course, that Jimmy was going to keep the medals and wedding ring, but dad was laying proudly and I was happy for him.

“He looks peaceful, relaxed,” dad commented, as he stood with me. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to live without him girls. Your dad and I were a rare thing in life: attached at the hip. We’ve rarely been apart, except for some time before Eliza was born. I’m not proud of that time, but we made up for it over the years. We were married for 48 years and I always thought we had plenty of time. It’s amazing how quickly that time flies. I want you guys to have what I had.”

“We will,” I told him, as we formed a group hug. “And don’t worry, dad, we’ll help you transition to life without dad. It’s not going to be easy, but we’ll get through it. Just don’t hesitate to call us.”

He nodded, hugging us both tight as the doors opened just a bit. Dad turned, looked at Chris and nodded. He bent and gently kissed Jacoby’s forehead, then we took our seats. It was time for the ceremony to begin and I knew this was our last goodbye.

I watched as everyone filed in, seeing people from the hospital, dad’s friends from California, neighbors from out on the gravel, you name it. But the people filing in toward the end, all dressed for the funeral in dresses and suits, their piercings tamed for the day, surprised me.

“Star?” I asked, rising to meet my co-workers. “What are you guys doing here?”

I hugged every member of my staff, so glad to have them here.

“We wanted to support you. Matt approved us closing for a couple of days so we could be here,” she explained, as they all took seats behind us a few rows.

I resumed my seat with my family, noting that Alise and Garrison had kid duty for today, along with her sister. Gabby nodded to me, her silent way of saying not to worry about the kids. Anyone that got restless would be quickly escorted out to the main room and for that reason, the kids were sitting in the back with her. I appreciated it, as Mark Furhman, a friend of Jimmy’s, approached the front to begin the ceremony. He’d known dad and Jacoby for years, though I didn’t remember him from growing up. It’s possible he’s one of dad’s rehab friends, whom I’ve never met.

Facing the podium, clutching my water, I waited for the ceremony to begin. There was going to be an honor guard for Jacoby at the cemetery and in lieu of a hearse, he was going out in style: a retired ambulance, used just for funerals, just the way he’d like it.

“Good morning everyone. I’m Mark Furhman, a long time friend of Jimmy and Jacoby. Jimmy has asked me to conduct Jacoby’s service and I said I would be glad to. It’s never easy to see a lifelong friend pass and so suddenly at that. Today, we’ll remember Jacoby as the amazing person he was. Before we begin, Jimmy has asked that if anyone would like to share a memory of Jacoby, they do so now.”

Things were a bit of a blur from there for me. People stood up, remembering my dad, but I was focused on the casket. Hoping he could hear me, I said a silent goodbye to my dad, memorizing his face and hoping I never forgot how he looked.

I really need to get back into reading, just been so into books lately lol.

10

I watched as my best friend, Matt Sanders, made his way to the small podium set up next to Jacoby. I should mention that there aren’t a lot of flowers; we asked that people donate to a scholarship fund being set up at the hospital in his name or to one of the charities he always supported. I have no use for the flowers and it’s hard to ship them back to California. There are still a few, of course, and yes, they’re making me sneeze. Somehow, everyone managed to order a flower to which I’m very, very allergic. Thankfully, the watery eyes are expected, so most might not even know that I’m having an allergy attack to the orchids.

“Good morning,” Matt began, as I held Cilla’s hand. “I’m Matt Sanders, one of Jimmy’s friends from California, and he’s asked me to read his eulogy for his husband. Understandably, he isn’t able to speak on his own right now; I’m sure the orchids aren’t helping.”

There was a smattering of laughter as I sneezed and I smiled at my friend, glad he had good control of the crowd. He smiled at me and then looked down at the paper in his hands. It was a short eulogy, but it was enough.

“Whether it was fate or just timing, Jimmy and Jacoby were meant to be together. They met on May 15th, 1998. Jimmy was half-dead in an alley and Jacoby happened to be on the call that night. To Jacoby, this was just another kid passed out in the alley, until he heard that no family could be found for Jimmy. At the time, no one even knew Jimmy’s real name; he had ten fake I.D.s on him. Jacoby grew attached that night, even though his training told him not to; he couldn’t help it. Jimmy was in a coma for over a month but Jacoby was there by his side the entire time.

“When Jimmy awoke, on June 29th, Jacoby stayed with him through the recovery. Because of his age, he recovered very quickly, and soon entered rehab, in October of 1998. His time in rehab was fraught with problems, but he managed to pull through. Shortly after graduation, the pair realized that they felt more for each other than just friendship. So, even though they lived in a time of discrimination against gay people, they started dating. It was a short courtship and they married on the beach in Vacaville, California on January 10th, 2000.

“Of course, a California wedding is great, until you return to your life in Iowa. In 1999, Jacoby bought a ‘fixer-upper’ of a house.” There was a smattering of laughter at that, and even I had to laugh, as I sneezed again. “Well, more like a ‘tear down and start over’ fixer-upper, but he refused. He took loans out carefully here and there and over the course of a few years, he and Jimmy made the house a home. The first time I saw it, complete with before pictures, I couldn’t believe it was the same farm house, out in the middle of nowhere. As Jimmy always liked to say, they lived five miles north and two miles east on the gravel, middle of nowhere Iowa, 51557. But, surprisingly, their marriage survived. They made it through winters, Jimmy’s four trips to rehab, his mental break downs, accidents, injuries and, eventually two beautiful girls.

“If Jimmy doesn’t mind my slight deviations from the script,” Matt said and I nodded, wiping at my face again; it was becoming chapped. “I was without my best friend for ten years. Jacoby conducted an exhaustive search to find Joe and Barbara, Jimmy’s parents. It took him ten years, but he found them. Their first meeting was a difficult one, because Jimmy wasn’t doing well, but they kept on. When I finally became reunited with my best friend after so many years, I’m not ashamed to say I cried. Jimmy needed his friends at that time and we did everything we could for him. When things were better, after that visit, we were all there when he asked our friend Michelle to be a surrogate for them. Of course, we didn’t know then that the baby would be a girl, but we were glad to help in whatever way we could.

“Jimmy, you such a strong person. I know that things are going to be difficult without Jacoby, but you’re going to make it through just fine. And remember, you’ve still got us, your best friends, to help you along the way.”

I got up and hugged him, having long ago given up on not crying; it just wasn’t going to happen. When I’d resumed my seat, Matt wiped at his eyes and returned to my speech.

“When we’d all gotten to know Jacoby we all grew to be fast friends. Over the 48 years of their marriage, there were many trips back and forth between Iowa and California for all of us. Jacoby is as much a part of our little family as Jimmy and we were all devastated at the news of his sudden passing. No one will forget Jacoby, that’s for sure, and again, no matter what you believe, I think it was fate that brought these two together. They had a relationship like none I’ve ever seen and it was stronger than they sometimes realized.

“In Jimmy’s words: Jacoby, know that he loves you. And, from me, know that we’re going to be there for him no matter what. Rest easy, old friend.”

With that, Matt said back down behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder. I got up and hugged him again, before listening again to Mark speak again.

“At this time, the gathering is concluded. Jacoby believed strongly in the concept of God and Heaven and I truly believed he was welcomed there upon his departure from this earth. Could I ask those gathered to file out and follow us to the cemetery?”

Everyone stood and we all quietly left the funeral home. Just before the girls and I got into a limo provided by the home, Chris handed me Jacoby’s wedding ring and his medals, secure in a small plastic bag. I sighed, clutching the clear bag in my hand and wiped my eyes. I watched as Jacoby was loaded into the back of a retired ambulance. It was fitting for him, considering how proud he was of his years of service to Omaha and Council Bluffs as a medic and nurse. When the doors were closed, a local police car turned on his lights and started moving the procession out into the country. The ambulance blared its siren the entire five mile journey, moving slowly, and I reached for yet another tissue.

“It’s the perfect send off,” Cilla sniffed, as we all pulled into the small cemetery. Most cars had been directed to the side of the road, which had been closed off for today; it was just too narrow. I nodded, holding my daughter as my door opened and I was assisted from the car by Chris.

We’d purchased these plots years ago, when we decided we didn’t want to make the girls decide what we wanted. Since we chose to be buried in Iowa, we were being buried right next to Hank and Eleanor, under their tree. I tried not to look at the headstone as I was lead to a tent to sit down, as Jacoby was carried to the mount over his vault. Our friends from California and Corey (who asked to be a pallbearer) moved carefully through the small county cemetery and finally, my husband was on his final perch.

I don’t remember what Mark said now, but I knew it was a bible passage about death that Jacoby really liked. When he was finished, he closed his bible and said a blessing over the casket.

“There will be a luncheon following at the Mondamin Community Center for those of you wishing to stay.”

With that, Mark stepped away as the honor guard moved to leave. It wasn’t that they did a gun salute or saluted Jacob or anything; it was that they were there in their uniforms, drove the ambulance, and stood respectfully at the side of the service. It’s sort of like a nursing honor guard; it’s there to show support to the family and respect the person who served for so many years. They moved the ambulance out and the siren sounded once more for Jacoby, causing me to cry harder. I touched the lid of the casket as I walked by, wishing I could go with him.

“We’ll get through this dad, I promise,” Eliza said, as we walked back to the limo. “Let’s go eat.”

I don’t know why moments like this always revolve around food. I’m better about eating in these situations, but it’s still not easy. I know I need to eat and I will, but I’m not hungry. Sitting in the limo, I watched the cemetery until it was out of sight, unable to grasp that my husband was now gone from me forever.

***

“Jimmy? Supper’s ready.”

I blinked a bit and then looked up at Alise, who smiled. I’d fallen asleep on their couch after returning from Mondamin and I slowly sat up, feeling a twinge in my back. She gave me a hand up, as I grabbed my oxygen and put my arms through the straps.

“I’m sorry,” I told her, but she shook her head.

“Don’t think twice about it. We’re going to eat outside since the humidity finally went down. Garrison’s got chops, chicken, and hot dogs grilling, and I put together potatoes for everyone.”

I followed her outside, mustering a smile when the grandkids rushed me, hugging me. I returned each hug, thinking how important our grandkids were to us. Now, I suppose, they’ll be even more important to me, as I try to live without Jacoby.

“Jacoby loved eating out here,” I told Alise, as I looked out over our backyard. “We had a picnic table over by the porch and he’d set up a table perfect for serving. We’d spend hours out here, sitting at the table, either eating, reading, drawing or otherwise relaxing. We could see the gardens from there and everything.”

“That’s a good memory. I’ve got a couple of hammocks set up, by the way,” she said, then called everyone to get their food. “I’ll show you after supper. I know that’s a way you like to relax and because you’ve been surrounded by people, I want you to have some downtime, okay?”

“I appreciate it,” I said, as everyone formed a long line. It was clear that the borrowed grills were necessary, and I spotted Brian and Matt manning a couple of the grills. “I’m going to miss this place when I leave on Wednesday.”

Alise hugged me, before grabbing a plate. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. I took a burger and made my way to the side table, taking a small helping of a couple of the salads available. My appetite was better than usual, but I still wasn’t that hungry. I can hear Jacoby in my head going “you have to eat, honey”, but I don’t want to. Of course, I’ll choke it down, but I wish food would stop existing.

“Good food, Matt,” Michelle said, smiling as she bit into her burger. “You’re going to be famous for these damn things one day.”

It was nice to see people having fun, but I wasn’t feeling it. I’d just buried my husband and they wanted to laugh and carry on. Hoping no one would notice, I took my plate, a napkin and a can of pop and located one of my, well, Alise’s hammocks. It was far removed from the back yard and I set myself up there. Michelle was right; the burgers were very good, but I wasn’t that hungry.

“Fuck,” I muttered, putting my plate aside. I’d eaten about half of my meal and the farm cats they had would finish it off for me. I sipped at my pop, looking skyward. It was around six so the sun was still high in the sky, preventing me seeing any stars. “Jacoby, why in the hell did you have to die? I can’t even get into the spirit of supper back there. How the hell am I going to live without you?”

Naturally, he did not answer and I didn’t really expect that he would. I finished my pop and discarded the can, pulling myself fully into the hammock. I sat up for a bit, since I was prone to heartburn, but I really wanted to just curl up and die.

That’s extreme? You try being a widower, then, I bet you’ll change your tune more than a little bit. I know that, over time, things will get better, but right now, things fucking suck, okay? I miss my husband and I honestly don’t know how I’m going to live without him. If you were in my shoes, I bet you’d want to go with your spouse as well.

Of course, that’s not going to happen. I’m really not in very bad health right now, though my dementia medication is losing some of its steam. When I get back, I get to go see my memory specialist with Matt. He’s the only person who could go on that day and while he won’t be as helpful as Jacoby, he’s all I’ve got. I mean, my sister could go, too, I suppose, but I just…I picked Matt. I think Katie is going along as well, but I wanted Matt there.

“Jimmy?”

My sister Katie came over to me, standing nearby. I know I haven’t talked to my sisters much and that’s wrong of me. But it’s just…I don’t know, I can’t explain why I haven’t given them the time they deserve.

“Hey. I’m sorry I’ve been a bad brother,” I said, as she sat with me. She gently rocked us back and forth, her bare feet barely touching the ground.

“No worries. Kelly and I are here for you, and you come to us on your own time. We didn’t get into town until yesterday anyway, and so you haven’t really had time to see us. Want to talk?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I don’t know. What’s to talk about? Jacoby’s gone and I’m fucked, Katie. Last night, sitting around the pool, Matt wouldn’t leave my side. He said he was afraid I was going to try to drown myself or drink myself into a stupor. I mean, I had one beer. That’s it. Sure, I wanted more and I wanted something stronger, but one beer was all I had. I just…Katie, I’m having the old urges. Not for the drugs, but for the drink. I want to drink, Katie, and I want to smoke. Jacoby would have some lecture prepared for me, but I can’t function without him. What am I going to do?”

She held me, rubbing my back. “You’re not going to act on those urges for starters. You’re going to remember that Jacoby wouldn’t want you to lose your cool in this situation. And you’re going to keep all of us closer, okay? I know the first year is going to be so difficult for you; we’re prepared for that. But you’re going to talk to all of us, got me? I don’t want you to forget that we’re here for you Jimmy.”

I nodded, leaning into my sister a bit. “I know, Katie, I know. But it’s going to be so hard without him, you know? In 48 years, we were rarely apart. Now he’s gone and I’m lost. What am I going to do?”

She just held me, silently. It would take time, of course, but I can do this. At least, I think I can.

11

Returning to California was bitter sweet. Dad held himself together pretty well after the funeral, as we all took time to see the sights back home. I know it was hard for everyone to leave, even those that never lived there; no one wanted to leave Jacoby behind. Randi and I returned home with the girls after our flight, assured that Aunt Katie was going to stay with dad for a little while. Her husband Myles had had a stroke five years ago and was in a nursing home. She visited him daily, easier now that they were retired, even though he had no idea who she was. I think helping with her brother gave her a renewed sense of purpose.

“Randi, how is it that time has continued?” I asked our first night home. The girls were in bed, and we were relaxing with a bottle of wine on our back porch, sitting in the hot tub. It felt good to be back home, listening to the ocean come and go, and watching as the stars popped. School would be starting again soon and I couldn’t wait. “I mean, I start back to work on Monday, school starts in a couple of weeks. My dad just died and yet here we are, almost a week after the funeral and starting back into a routine again. I don’t get it.”

She reached for my hand, squeezing it before she kissed the back of it. “I don’t know, honey. I was so young when my dad died that I don’t remember any of this. But I suppose it’s just how life goes, you know? Eventually, despite all of the sadness, we have to keep moving forward. You won’t heal overnight from this and even in a year you’ll still be healing. But in time, it will be twenty years or thirty years down the road and you’ll wonder where the time went. Just know that I am here for you, no matter what.”

I refilled my wine glass and nodded, leaning back in my chair. “I know,” I told her, squeezing and kissing her hand. I could feel the tears starting up again and I sighed. “I thought I was all cried out.”

Randi moved me into her lap. It was relaxing to be in her arms, even if I was crying. I have no idea how I’m supposed to move forward from this but I’m determined to make it.

***

Of course, we all knew that coming home was going to be hard for dad. But it seemed that Katie was keeping him grounded. He had grandpa’s house to himself and I know that bothered him. I went over while the girls were with friends when we’d been home for a week and decided to check on him. Katie had texted me that she was going to head out to get groceries, and I didn’t really want him alone just yet.

“Dad?” I called, entering the house. Of course, it’s always at the forefront of our minds that the widower can’t always survive without the spouse and we are on alert for dad to pass away as well. “Dad?”

I moved through the house, noting his absence. Concerned, I checked the entire house, then moved outside. He was sitting by the pool, reading a book, with a glass of water beside him. I could hear his oxygen hissing into his nose and I smiled.

“Hey dad,” I called and he looked up, mustering up a smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing,” he told me, as I settled into a lounge chair beside him. He was in just his swim trunks and despite his age, he still looked good. He and Matt worked out three days a week and I know that’s going to be important as time goes by in the first year. “It’s been two weeks already, Cilla, how did that happen? How did two weeks go by without Jacoby? I have marked each and every day since his passing with some sort of activity until now. Previously, it was his collapse, his passing, and finalizing arrangements. Then it was the visitations and funeral. After that, it was being home, Cilla. I was home for a week and a half. And I missed it. But I know that going back is not an option. I can’t go back because of my health, even if it continues to decline; it’s just declining slower. This morning, for a brief moment, I forgot who Katie was. It was only a brief moment, but it bothered me. The medication has bought me some good years, Cilla. I don’t want to die with no memory of my family. My memory is already fractured. But it seems I’m doomed to live out my years without my partner. I literally don’t know how. Katie’s at the grocery store and I’m doing fine. I don’t work until next week and I requested that, because I want to get back to work. But mornings are hard. Katie is showing me how to do my meds for the week, she’s even offered to come over on Sundays and do it for me. But part of me knows I need to learn. Another part of me doesn’t want to learn.

“Did you know that once I became friends with Jacoby, I never lived on my own? He was going to give me his apartment but we started dating and he didn’t move as soon as he planned. So I stayed with him. When the house was ready, we were married already, so we of course moved in.”

“How long did you date?” I asked, reaching into the cooler dad had out here and grabbing a water.

“Not long,” he said, smiling. I could tell it was his first happy smile in days. “We started dating in May of 1999 and married in January of 2000. It was a bit of a whirlwind romance, but we made it work. There were times we thought we married too young and too quickly and sometimes I think we did. But at the end of the day, I was going to either end up on the street since I had no budget knowledge or I could go with your dad. Now, as an adult at the age of 67, I have to learn to live on my own.”

I nodded, unsure how a few months of dating had lead to 48 years of marriage. “Why not have Katie move in? She’s told me how lonely she is in that house all by herself.”

“We talked about that today, actually. Jensen is moving back to HB and needs a house, but doesn’t want to live with his mom, which I understand. He’s got a wife and two kids now and the house would become small. So, we talked about selling them her house and having her move in here.”

“Randi and I talked about moving to HB,” I told him, and noted the surprise on his face. “You know, to be closer to you. But housing is more expensive and we’re ahead on our house so we’re not sure.”

“Don’t give up what you’ve got,” he advised me and I nodded, finishing my water. “You’ve got an amazing house on the beach, you’re ten minutes from work and the girl’s schools; don’t give that up.”

“Are you sure, dad?” I asked and he nodded. “I’ll tell Randi, then.”

Secretly, I was relieved. I love HB but I love living in Irvine and I think I want to stay. Dad smiled, stretching a bit in his chair. I could tell he was bored and not entirely sure what he should do next.

“What do you normally do on your days off?” I asked, knowing he worked three days a week.

“I spend time with Jacoby,” he said, his face falling a bit. “He works, well, worked, I guess, two days per week. So, he’d work in the morning and then we’d spend the afternoon and evening together. In the morning, I’d clean, swim, go for a walk, play with the cats, etc. But in the afternoon, we ran errands, went places together or just sat around reading, watching TV or listening to music. The only thing I have to do today is take all four cats to the vet for their shots. And Katie will be back to help me with that here soon. I don’t know what to do with myself, Cilla; he was my everything.”

I moved into dad’s chair and held him, feeling like a small child again. It’s strange the things you miss being an adult, like sitting on your dad’s lap. I know that as an adult, it’s supposed to be a bad thing, but this time, it was for comfort.

“I really, really miss him, Cilla. He went to the same heart doctor that I’ve been going to for five years; how did they miss this? I know, I know, sometimes, it just happens. I know that; I was a medic for years. But he’d been having problems with his heart and they said ‘oh it’s just reflux; take this medication and you’ll be fine’. He took that damn medication daily and he still died of a massive heart attack. What happened?”

I held my dad tight, listening to his heart as I did so; it was normal. “I don’t know, dad. We’re both in the medical profession and we both know these things just happen. I suppose that’s what happened, you know? I mean, is there a heart history on grandma’s side?”

Dad shrugged, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t think so. His mom had cancer that was caught too late and that’s how she died. We don’t know about his dad, of course, since he was never in the picture. And Jacoby doesn’t even remember his dad’s name.”

“It’s possible, then, that there’s a heart history on his dad’s side, then. Either way, we can’t bring him back, dad. Medicine has made a lot progress in the last few decades, but not in that way. We’ll just have to work on moving forward over the years. You’ve still got your girls, dad, don’t forget that, okay?”

He nodded, kissing the top of my head. We were quiet for a moment, before I moved back into my chair, listening as Katie returned home. She smiled at me as she came out to see how dad was doing.

“I’ve got the kitchen re-stocked, Jim,” she said. Her once vibrant chestnut hair was now salt and pepper and there were deep wrinkles on her face. She resembled her mother in every sense of the word but it suited her. “How did you do while I was gone?”

He shrugged, finishing his water. “Cilla came and we talked. I mostly sat out here to read, so I didn’t really do much while you were gone, I guess. It’s weird to think I need to spend my time like this, I guess.”

Dad’s repeating himself, something to keep an eye on. We all know his medication needs adjusted, but last I knew, he’d maxed it out and couldn’t get any higher dose. There are some new medications in trial right now, but none of them are ready for the open market. I’m not prepared to lose my dad to dementia or Alzheimer’s just yet.

“Well, do you want some dinner?” she asked, and dad nodded, standing. He was stiffer these days, but he never complained. “Cilla, do you want to stay for dinner?”

I nodded, since I had time before the girls would need picked up. “Sure.”

We moved into the house and while dad went to shower I helped Katie get some chicken going. “How was he when you got here?” she asked, as the shower started up.

“He was fine, reading his book. He cried when we talked about dad, of course, and he was kind of down and things, but over all, he did pretty well, I thought. He’s just kind of lost without dad, is all. I asked what he usually did on his days off and apparently the mornings were his and the cats; after that, he’d spend time with dad. Aside from the time he lived out here before they had Eliza, it sounds like they were never apart.”

“They weren’t,” Katie clarified. “I mean, they’d have different work schedules and stuff, but that’s about it. They always vacationed together, they always worked at the same hospital, you name it. They were not known for being apart much.”

I love Randi and all, but we’re not afraid to go places alone. “I couldn’t imagine. I mean, Randi and I do things together but we do things separately, too. We work at the same hospital, but once a year some friends and I go on a vacation without our spouses. It’s a good way to recharge the batteries, you know?” Katie nodded, as we chopped up some vegetables. “I know that dad did a lot for Jimmy, but I worry about him being able to function on his own.”

The shower was still running and Katie nodded. “I agree. Did he tell you we’ve talked about me moving in?” I nodded, rinsing my hands before adding the peppers to the frying pan. “I’ve got a lot of house to myself and with Jensen and his family moving back so he can take a job as administrator of HB hospital, it’s better for them to have the house than me. I told him I was okay with moving in, but that he needed to live alone for a little bit before I do. Jensen and them won’t be back until the end of the year, but he didn’t want to wait.”

The shower shut off and I sighed, chopping some potatoes. “I’m with you, but yet I worry about him being alone. His memory is going again and if something happens…”

She nodded, as we kept an ear peeled for sounds of dad coming downstairs. “I know. I’m going to talk to him more about it this afternoon.”

“Smells good,” dad said, and we both jumped, causing him to laugh. “I love sneaking up on gossiping young ladies. Though I preferred the days when the gossip about me was whether or not I’d go straight for someone.”

We both blushed, turning, embarrassed, toward our food prep. Dad smiled, grabbing the chicken and tossing all of the breasts in a big of seasoning.

“No need to stop talking,” he assured us, though his tone indicated that he’d heard a good chunk of our conversation. “Look, my memory is going again, you’re right. But that was going to happen anyway. And that alone is the reason I’m reluctant to live on my own. If my memory goes and I forget to douse a candle or turn off a burner or something, that could cause some serious problems for all of us. Or, if I forget to take my breathing medication or wear my oxygen; what if I go wandering? After all these years, I’ve accepted that I’m not strong enough anymore to live alone. But, like dad, I don’t want to go to a home unless I have to.”

“I can’t argue with that,” I told him, relaxing a bit. I love my dad and I worry about him, especially in these first weeks without Jacoby. “We just worry, that’s all.”

He hugged me for a moment, then returned to the chicken, which he was carefully laying in the frying pan. “I know and it’s appreciated, honey, I promise. But remember: worry about me when I can listen and respond and not while I’m in the shower or getting dressed. I like to know when people are worried so we can talk about it. No secrets, okay?”

I nodded, chaste. Scraping the potatoes into the large frying pan, Katie drizzled oil over the whole thing and the put a lid on. I had about three hours before I had to pick up the girls for supper tonight, so I had time to hang out. Hugging my dad impulsively, I smiled when I felt his familiar tight hung around me; it said everything was going to be okay; and I believe it.

12

I don’t know how dad and Cilla are surviving, I really don’t. I don’t go back to work until Monday and I’m not looking forward to it…and that’s a first for me. I love my job but right now, I just want to stay in bed and never get up again. Even Corey’s problems are taking a back burner right now to my grief. He was still staying with my parents when my dad died and while he’s home, we’ve told him punishments still stand.

But right now, it’s the middle of the night, two weeks since my dad died and I’m sitting on my back porch with a bottle of beer. The kids and my husband are sleeping soundly but not me; I can’t sleep anymore and believe me, I’ve tried. No, I spend my nights sitting outside getting piss-ass drunk and crying. I do it this way so the kids don’t see me and my husband doesn’t have to deal with me.

“Eliza, come to bed,” an exasperated voice says and I turn to see Clayton coming onto the porch. He’s still half-asleep and I shake my head. “How many beers have you had tonight?”

If he can’t count the bottles sitting on the table, he’s blinder than I gave him credit for. “Not nearly enough,” I said, putting my tenth empty bottle down. I reached into the cooler for another one, but it was empty. “And I’m all out now, damn it.”

My husband sat next to me at the table, rubbing his face. “Eliza, talk to me, okay? I’m your husband and I’m here to help you through this. No one expects you to get over it. You just lost your dad and that’s going to take a long time to heal from. But you’re becoming an alcoholic and what’s that going to teach our son?”

I stopped to think about that, and even as buzzed as I was, I knew what my husband was getting at…and he was right. I burped a bit, an acidic taste filled my mouth as my head fell back to look at the stars. They were bright tonight and one seemed to twinkle more than the others. I’d always been the opposite of my sister and Jimmy. I believe in God and Heaven and religion and such. I even joined a church out here, and while I don’t go often, it’s important to me when I do go. Jacoby and I had a lot of talks about religion and even though his faith waned a bit in his last years, he always believed in some basic principles of religion.

“I just…I don’t know how everyone is just going on,” I stuttered as the alcohol finally hit me full force. The world spun as my eyes blurred with renewed tears. “I mean, it’s been a week all at once, Clayton, two weeks! Two weeks without Jacoby, Clayton and what have I done? Spent time in Iowa, went to visit my best friend’s mom who didn’t even know who I was, buried my dad, came home to California and am trying to become an alcoholic. And somewhere in there, time went on while I fell apart. School starts in another week and that’s going to be a distraction. I have to work today…why?”

Clayton drew me onto his lap and held me, which was what I wanted, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I cried onto his shoulder, wondering when the tears would dry up, and yet I knew they wouldn’t. My tears would never dry up because how does one live without a parent? And don’t give me that bullshit about how he was 73 and ‘lived a good long life’ like some people did. That’s bullshit and you know it. Yes he lived a good life, but it sure as hell wasn’t long enough.

“I’m just so angry!” I shouted, curling into my husband’s lap. I’m a stocky girl but tall, so this is no small feat. “Why did it have to be Jacoby? Why couldn’t it have been some, some, murderer! Or a rapist! Or someone other than my dad! He was doing fine they loved it out here, Clayton. They have their cabin in the winter up north and they have their beach front house they love so much. And now what’s Jimmy going to do? Fall apart? His memory is going again and I don’t want him to forget any of us. So why did it have to be my dad? It’s not fucking fair!”

I had no fight left in me at this point and I think Clayton knew that. But he let me punch at him anyway, never hard enough to do more than sting. I sobbed louder and harder than I have in the entire two weeks since we lost Jacoby.

“I don’t know how to live without him,” I sobbed, as my husband rubbed my back. “I don’t. I went to him for everything, Clayton, absolutely everything. When he didn’t know, Jimmy did. It’s not fair, you know? I mean, what didn’t he know? Everything from a skinned knee to Corey’s problems, he knew it all. Now he’s gone and where does that leave me, huh? Out in the fucking cold, that’s where. Why did my dad have to die? I don’t understand anymore than I understood about Penny. I always asked where she was and why didn’t she come home? And now I ask that about my dad, even though I’m older and I get it now. I want him back, Clayton; I want to rewind the clock and go back to the times when it was the four of us at the farm.”

If that hurt, he didn’t let on. Perhaps he understood, in some way, why I wanted to rewind the clock. If we could go back to my childhood, Jacoby would be alive and well once again and life would be good. But of course, we can’t do that and I placed a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, that was wrong of me to say,” I told him, wiping my eyes.

“No, it wasn’t,” he assured me and I knew he was sincere. “You were just wishing for different times and that’s completely understandable. I’m going to set us up with a grief counselor, okay; the entire family because we’re all hurting. Of course, you are hurting worse than us because it more directly affects you, but Jacoby was like a dad to me, too, and it hurts me just as much. The kids lost their grandfather as well, and they were very close to him. I think it will be good for us, okay? I’ll see if Jimmy wants to come also and we’ll all go together.”

“I think that’s wise,” I agreed, yawning. Alcohol loosens me up and then it puts me to sleep. “I should sleep.”

Clayton carried me in and put me to bed, drawing the covers over me.

“Remember that I love you,” he whispered right before I drifted off to sleep.

***

You’d think things would get better after that, but they did not. I never drank at work, but as soon as I was home and the kids were in bed, I was out on the back deck. Clayton lost a lot of sleep coming out to talk to me, get me to stop drinking but nothing worked. It seemed the tendency toward addiction had hit me.

“Oh Liza,” a voice murmured and I lifted my head from the glass table on our patio to squint into the sun. “I had hoped it would be me and not you.”

I blinked at my dad, then checked my phone: it was after nine and I was not only late for work, I’d slept the entire night out here. Jimmy sat down beside me, counting the beer bottles and then taking note of the empty bottle of vodka.

“This is what I used to do, you know,” he said, as I noted several missed calls and texts. “Matt asked me check on you. Just before I woke you, I told him you weren’t feeling well and had forgotten to call in. I didn’t mention the 15 bottles of beer and most of a bottle of vodka. At least you have good taste, I suppose, but you can’t keep this up, honey. I know that life without Jacoby sucks, okay? Trust me, it’s been two and a half weeks and I’m hanging on by a thread. But you can’t drink this away, honey.”

I rubbed my bleary eyes and yawned, running a hand through my hair; it was knotted and greasy. “I can if I want,” I argued, wishing the sun wasn’t so bright. “I can’t stand the pain, dad.”

My dad held me tight, as he’d done when I was a child, but it didn’t help right now. “I know, honey, I know. Trust me, if anyone understands, it’s me. I’ve been without my husband for two and a half weeks. I’ve had my sister staying with me since we got home. I’m learning to function without him, but it’s difficult. I had an appointment yesterday with my memory specialist and he said we’ve done what we can; when the medication stops, that’s it. I don’t qualify for the new trials because my disease is technically advanced.”

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face. “So that’s it? We’re going to lose you to dementia? Great. I lose Jacoby to a sudden heart attack and now I’m going to lose you to advanced dementia? Fuck my life.” I reached for the vodka, but dad took it before I got there.

“No, Eliza. I will not lose you to alcoholism. It’s a dreadful disease that I continue to fight daily and I don’t want you to go through that same fight. I’m not going down right away, Cilla. I’m still on the medication because going off it worsens the progression of the disease. If I stay on the medication, we can at least delay the inevitable for a while.”

I shook my head, feeling fresh tears prick my eyes. “But it’s not fair, dad. I’m not going to lose both of my parents so soon, you know? I don’t care how long it’s going to take before your memory goes; I don’t want to lose you right after I just lost dad.”

Dad held me yet again, rubbing my back and trying to soothe me. But it wasn’t working and I knew I was screwed. I reached again for the vodka, but dad kept it out of my reach. Instead, he walked me inside and made sure I got in the shower. I was completely sober, but I needed to kick the hangover.

“Eliza, I love you and so does your dad, okay? You need to be a mom to your kids, get Corey straightened out, and live your life to the fullest. You’ve got years left ahead of you and hopefully so do I. But no matter what, we’ve got to stick together. I want you to get your shit together, young lady, and be here for your family.”

The last time I heard my dad say that, he was talking to Cilla. It kind of stung to have those words thrown in my face, as he handed me some water. I drank half of it down and then moved toward the kitchen; I was hungry. As I got cereal around, I thought about what my dad had said.

“How much have you slept since we got home?” Jimmy asked, sitting at the dining room table. I leaned against the counter and worked on my cereal, glad my stomach was settled.

“Not much. I can’t help it, dad. Every time I close my eyes, my nightmares come back.”

I’d had nightmares off and on in my teenage years. Everyone was different, but they all scared me immensely. I saw therapists, took medication for sleep, you name it. Nothing worked and I finally outgrew them when I was eighteen. Now, though, it seemed that dad’s death had triggered their return.

“They’re back?” Jimmy asked, worried. I nodded, as I finished my cereal and we moved into the living room. “How bad?”

I shrugged, glancing out the window; it was cloudy today and I swear a storm was brewing. “Bad enough. It’s the same damn dreams, too, that I had before. And I can’t sleep…and this time, they involved dad, too. I mean, I know *how* he died, but in my nightmares, it’s always so much worse. I’d rather sit up all night, drinking myself into a coma, than face those dreams again, dad. Between losing Jacoby, the grief, Corey, your dementia and my nightmares, I’m about to lose it.”

I noticed the worry on dad’s face, something I didn’t often see these days. He looked upward, and while I know he doesn’t believe in heaven, he does believe in some sort of afterlife, so maybe he was hoping to channel Jacoby.

“We both know sleeping pills don’t work, don’t we?” he asked, his face drawn. I felt bad adding another stressor in his life, as I nodded. “Well, that means meditation. It helped last time, at least. Do you remember how to do it?”

I shook my head, considering it’d been so many years since dad and I had meditated together. He used to do it often, even if Jacoby scoffed at him. Now, though, he moved to the floor and I followed suite, hoping to find some calm for my over-active mind.

***

Much to Clayton’s relief, I no longer sit up drinking all night. That’s not to say I magically stopped drinking…I still drink. I still probably drink too much. But I’m back to functional, able to get up for work in the morning, and I’m getting better. Of course, Jimmy makes sure I don’t turn into a full blown alcoholic, by calling me at all times of the day and night to make sure I’m monitoring how much I’m drinking. I don’t count, but he’s been known to come over at two, count and put me to bed. I think it keeps his mind off things.

“Liza? Your last appointment of the day is here,” Star said, standing in my doorway. I nodded, standing, rubbing my blood-shot eyes. She closed the door and faced me, a stern look on her otherwise kind face. “Look, Liza, what’s going on? I know you’re still mourning your dad, which you should be, but you’re different. I know that losing a parent changes someone for a while, but you look hungover; I’ve never seen you hungover at work before. Your clients are complaining that, while your work remains good, your attitude stinks and frankly, even your regulars are moving to other artists. Whatever’s going on is none of my business, but you need to get your shit together.”

My lower lip trembled and Star frowned, moving forward. She’s not the touchy-feely type, but she’s made exceptions before. “Fuck, Liza, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

I sobbed into her shoulder anyway, hearing my door open and close before I tuned out the noises in the main part of the studio. Star rubbed my back, gently shushing me, as I tried to compose myself. I’ve worked with this group of people for so many years I knew they didn’t care but I did for some reason.

“I—I just…since dad died, I don’t sleep, Star. I’ve been drinking myself silly at night instead. Dad—Jimmy has been taking care of me because I can’t do it myself. Clayton’s still with me and he’s trying to help, too, but I’m falling apart. I know Jacoby wouldn’t approve, but it’s happening, Star, and there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“There is,” she told me, as I wiped my eyes. “There is. You let me help you, okay? I kicked alcohol’s butt and you can, too. Just let me help you, okay?”

I nodded, taking several deep breaths. Star touched up my face for me and then sent me out to my client, apologizing for the delay. The client was a regular and understanding, as I put on a smile, determined to kick my shitty attitude. I don’t know what Star has in mind, but I’m going to let her do it anyway; I’ve got to kick this before it gets any worse.

13

I worry about Eliza. I know that she’s got a lot on her plate but I worry. I’m not doing so hot myself without Jacoby but I think I’m holding it together better than Eliza is. I mean, I crave alcohol and cigarettes, but my sister is keeping me honest.

About that…she’s moving in once Jensen and his family move to California. Now, that does mean being alone for a while, but she comes every Sunday to do my meds for the week and will come twice a week to make sure everything is okay. After having her here around the clock for the last week, I’m not sure I can handle being alone.

“Meow.”

I looked down at Abba, now seven, and mustered a smile. We’d lost Oliver and Eleanor a couple of years ago, and Clancy and Abba were all I had left. I was seeing a therapist out here and of course, the first thing she suggested I get? A dog. When I told her a dog could kill me, she relented. So for now, I’ve got the two cats but I am considering getting a couple more. Cats seem to keep me sane and I’m not allergic to them.

“What’s up Abba?” I asked, still questioning dad’s choice of names. “Are you hungry?”

We were standing in the dining room, where I’d been dusting (with my mask on of course) and I removed that now, sitting down with Abba on my lap. During my grief, she’s been a blessing. She always senses when I’m most upset and where Clancy kind of keeps to himself, she hops in my lap and loves me up until I smile.

“Meow.”

I glanced at her and then saw the pictures on the wall. There was the last portrait Jacoby and I had done, just a month before he died. On either side were our individual sittings and below that, the picture of me, Jacoby, and dad, as well as an individual of dad. Abba licked my tears as I cried, wishing I’d known how little time Jacoby had left. It’s normal, of course, to think of all the things you’d have said or done if you’d just had more time.

“Meow.”

I gulped in air, feeling my chest tighten. I knew I was having an asthma attack, but there’s wasn’t much I could do about it; I didn’t have enough air to get to my machine. Abba was becoming frantic and then she bolted from my lap, as I continued sobbing, trying to gulp in the air that wouldn’t come. Someone was here, but I couldn’t tell who. The mask to my machine was slapped unceremoniously over my nose and mouth and I started breathing again.

“It’s okay, bud, just breathe.”

That’s Zach. Someone was sent to check on me I guess. When I could breathe again, I wiped my face, ignoring the wall.

“What happened?” he asked, as we moved into the living room.

“I-I saw the pictures,” I said, as Abba jumped onto my lap again, demanding affection. “And I lost it. He’s really gone, Zach, he’s really, really gone.”

Zach nodded, placing a hand on my shoulder as I started sobbing all over again. I’d been so strong for the kids that I think I forgot about myself. And now we were three weeks without Jacoby, to the day, and it’s all hitting me at once.

“Shh,” Zach said, holding me on the couch. “It’s going to take a long time, Jimmy. You’ve been doing so much for the girls and you’ve had Katie here that this is going to be the hardest time for you, I think; these weeks before Katie moves in and it’s just you and the cats. But you have to let yourself feel the grief, okay?”

I thought I’d been doing that, but I hadn’t. It was just like when my folks passed: I thought I was feeling it but then something would change and it would hit me all at once. I was so strong after dad passed but then, about a month after everything, I cried myself to sleep for almost two weeks straight. I guess I never thought my parents would ever really die, considering I didn’t even have them for ten years. When we were finally reunited and I was doing well with them, they were ripped away from me.

“It’s not fucking fair!” I screamed, my throat raw and my face chapped. I swear I felt Jacoby’s arms around me, but I knew that was my imagination. I believe in ghosts and such but no one has been visible to me for years. “It’s not fucking fair!”

I stood, pacing, grabbing at my hair, but Zach grabbed my arms, pinning them to my sides. I was going to have another break down, I could feel it. I fought his grip on my arms but he was stronger than me. I wanted to rip the pictures down, purge the house of my husband, but I couldn’t do it.

“Jimmy!” Zach shouted, gently slapping my face. I glared at him, but saw the concern in his eyes. “Listen to me. I know this is tough and you’re right, it’s not fucking fair; but it happened and you can’t do anything about that. You have to be calm for me. I’m not going to let go until I know I won’t have to get the clippers out again.”

“No clippers,” I told him, in no uncertain terms. He’d had to keep my head shaved for several months after dad passed and I didn’t want to be bald again. “Please, not the clippers.”

“Then calm down,” he soothed me, his voice becoming more gentle. “Calm down, okay? Let’s sit down and talk about things for a moment.”

I nodded, calming my breathing, as I sat down on the couch. I sat on my hands as a precaution, but Zach shook his head. Confused, I placed them in my lap, where he held them.

“Talk to me, Jimmy. I’m your best friend, not your counselor, so talk to me like a best friend.”

“I just…it just hit me all at once, you know? I thought I was dealing okay with things, but I guess I’m not. I miss him, Z, I really miss him. I can’t live without him. Katie comes over on Sundays to do my meds for the week. Can you imagine? I’m a fucking NURSE, Z, and I can’t do my own meds for a week? I did more than that when I worked as a nurse, once I was off flying for health reasons. I was a trauma nurse for several years and someone else has to do my meds for me? That’s pathetic. But Jacoby did so much for me; he got me. He understood that I had memory problems and sometimes I’d forget to eat or shower or something. So we devised ways to help me remember. And I do pretty well nowadays. But without Jacoby, I think I’m cracking, Zach, I mean it. What if I forget to shower? I know I take my pills and stuff because I have to mark it down, but Jacoby always double checked me. Now, I’ve been on my own for 24 hours and so far I’ve had a break down, forgot to feed the cats, and almost ripped my hair out. That’s not a very successful 24 hours, is it?”

Zach shook his head, squeezing my hands gently. “No, but it’s a good start. Now that you’ve had this time to yourself, you’re going to learn how to handle it. I know it’s going to be tough, but you’re more capable than you give yourself credit for, Jim. Just remember to stay calm, don’t fall into the OCD trap, and think about Jacoby; it can help more than you realize.”

I nodded, trying to process what he’d said. I was scared and I didn’t want to admit that to anyone, because I didn’t want to be seen as weak. I started crying again, grateful when Zach took me into his arms, rubbing my back.

“You’re scared, Jim, and that’s okay,” he told me. I wondered how he’d figured me out. “I think most of us would be scared in your situation and no one is going to think less of you for it. Now, the guys want to go out tonight; you game?”

I thought about it…it would be good for me to get out of the house, I suppose.

Go.

Momentarily startled, I looked around, sure Jacoby had just spoken to me. “I’ll go. You and I will stick to the one beer rule, right?” I asked, knowing that Zach was my sobriety partner.

“Yes, we will. Now, go get cleaned up and let’s go. Gena wants you over for supper first and it’s already the middle of the afternoon.”

Nodding, I hurried upstairs, thinking that, maybe, life was getting back to normal. I was working two days a week for Clayton again, working back up to three and that put some joy in my life. Entering our bedroom, I spotted a picture of Jacoby taken two days before he died; I’d printed it out while we were in Iowa.

“Thanks,” I said, kissing it. I swear the picture nodded, but chalked that up to an over-active imagination, before I hopped in the shower.

***

“Jacoby, that was just what I needed. It helped the stress a little,” I told my husband as I crawled into bed later that night. “Wherever you are, I hope you’re happy and not in any pain anymore. I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you, but I’m going to give it my best shot, that’s for sure.”

I turned out my lamp and closed my eyes, feeling tired for once. Clayton promised me he’d take care of Eliza and drifted to sleep content that things were going okay for once.

“Jimmy.”

I looked over and grinned when I saw Jacoby sitting on the edge of the bed; he looked amazing. I sat up, pulling him into a bone crushing hug and breathed in his scent.

“Jacoby! Oh god, tell me this isn’t a dream,” I begged him, as he kissed me on the lips.

“I can’t lie, Jimmy, it is. But we’ve got plenty of time to visit. I’ve been watching you, you know, and I’m proud of you. I made it to the afterlife, Jimmy, but it’s really different than I thought it would be. I’m surrounded by family and that’s important. Mom says hi as do your folks and Hank and Eleanor. Oliver and Eleanor and Ma and Pa and all of our cats are up here, too. I’ve got the farm again, which is amazing. It’s not the same without you, of course, but it’s better than nothing. Oh, and I’ve got Penny. She’s grown into such an amazing young woman, Jimmy. I got to see her entire history through Eleanor’s scrapbook. She says Hi, too.”

“Our Penny?” I asked, tears pricking my eyes, as we laid together, in each other’s arms. Jacoby nodded. “I’m so glad, honey, I really am. But it’s tough without you down here, you know.”

Jacoby kissed my cheek, caressing it with his hand. “I know, but you’re going to be okay, Jim. I can’t predict the future, but you’re stronger than you think. I’m worried about Liza, though.”

I nodded, turning over to face my husband. It was like old times, when his face was bathed in sunlight and the ocean came and went in the early morning as we tried to avoid getting out of bed for as long as possible.

“Me, too. Clayton’s taking care of her for now, but he’s worried, too. She’s in grief counseling and she’s meditating, but her nightmares only come back in times of high stress, Jack. I know you couldn’t do anything about your passing, but it was terrible timing.”

He sighed, nodding, as he wiped my tears. “I know, Jim. It hit me out of the blue and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I started having some chest pains that morning, but blamed it on not getting my medicine on time. I was fine once that kicked in. But then I was helping in the back room when it kicked up again. I sat down and rested, felt better, figured I just over did it. The last thing I remember is blacking out at the register while pain lanced down my left arm. Classic heart attack symptoms, but it came on so fast. I saw the person giving me CPR…Penny came for me in the bookstore. I was already gone by the time I was on life support, but there was enough brain activity and enough of a heart beat to give it a try. I wish I could change things, honey, I do.”

I nodded, trying not to cry, as Jacoby sat up; it was probably time for him to go. “I know but it’s not your fault. Promise me we’ll visit often? I know you can’t come a lot, but I still need you, Jack.”

He held me tight, tears escaping his eyes now as well. “And I still need you, Slim. I’ll come when I can, I promise.”

With that, he kissed me, passionately, and then he was gone and I sat up in bed, wiping my eyes, wondering what had just happened.

I love you, Slim.

Nodding, I blew a kiss skyward, letting Jack know I loved him, too.

14

I love working on the chopper. For one, it keeps my mind off other things and for another we get to see the patient at the very start of their emergency. Right now, we’re heading north to meet a ground unit that won’t make it to Irvine in time with a heart patient. I can already see where we need to land and my job will be to stabilize the patient and make sure they stay that way.

“We’re down guys,” our pilot said and I helped bring the stretcher from the chopper, keeping my head down as I ran for the ground unit. I hate landing in sandy spots but I guess it was the best place for them. “What’s their status?”

“A-fib RVR,” the medic said as another rattled off the patient’s vitals. It took less than two minutes to have all the information we needed, transfer the patient to our gurney and get back into the chopper. “Good luck!”

I nodded, as I dove into my duties, noting their IV drip and what they were getting. I did a quick ECG reading and confirmed the heart rate and rhythm, while others on the flight took care of vitals and making sure the patient could receive CPR if needed. We’d be back to UCI in about ten minutes and the cardiac team was standing by.

“UCI One to base.”

The chopper set down eight minutes later and the cardiac team had the patient moments later. I went downstairs to clean up and make my report, ready for the next flight. When I re-entered the ER, however, I noticed the time: I’d be heading home soon. Oh well, I fly again tomorrow.

“Great job, Cilla,” Rory, one of our air medics complimented me and I smiled. “You’re doing great work lately.”

“Thanks,” I said, proud that my ability to keep my mind focused at work was working. “It’s not easy, but I’m managing.”

He nodded, heading off to make his report as well. I can’t believe this twelve hour shift went so fast. I’ve been back at work almost two full weeks now and every shift has dragged until now. My report was a quick one and then the night shift arrived; I reported off then clocked out, smiling when Randi called to me.

“Do you suppose Margret could keep the kids a couple of extra hours?” she asked, and I smiled, taking my phone out. Margret was good at texting and I sent her the request. When she answered yes, Randi about jumped for joy. “Let’s go!”

I laughed, as my wife dragged me out of work. She knows that after work, when I have time to relax, that’s when I have problems. I think about Jacoby and my depression acts up again. She knows that old urges have come back and we’re trying to keep things at bay by working together. Whatever distraction she has planned for tonight is a temporary fix to a long term problem, but I’m ready for it. We’ve started taking time each night to let me talk through each craving and memory and that seems to be working.

“So, we’re going to start with ordering in food,” she told me, as we pulled up to our house. I could hear the kids outside in the backyard at Margret’s and I smiled. “Then, we’re going to have our talk time and then we’ll take it from there before we go get the kids.”

“Chinese?” I asked and my wife nodded, already ordering our favorite dishes. “I’m going to check in with dad.”

Dad’s been doing okay, as we near the one month mark, but I know he’s struggling. I spoke to Zach the other day and learned about the small break down, so I check with him more often now.

“Hey dad,” I said, when he picked up. “Just checking in. Randi’s got an us night planned, and while she orders food, I’m open to talk.”

“I’m doing okay,” he told me, and I smiled. “Matt was over today a couple of times and made sure things were going okay. I forgot to eat and I had a brief moment where I forgot Abba’s name, but nothing serious yet. Katie’s moving in in a couple of months, so I’m ready for that. I just miss him, Cilla. I’m back to work, but when I’m home, it’s hard to stay focused. I keep thinking of what we’d be doing together and I know I need to stop doing that. I saw my therapist today and she said I’m doing pretty well. She did increase my anti-depressant. And I know you’re struggling, too, but I’m having alcohol cravings, Cilla. I think I’m about to turn into a cheese stick.”

Any other time I’d have laughed, but this was serious business. “At least you’re remembering to use other things, dad, that’s important. Are you craving cigarettes as well?”

I could picture him nodding. “Yeah, I am. I’ve been miming it with ink pens, like I used to do. I was so close to getting some today but Matt came over and walked to the convenience store with me. As soon as I asked the clerk for my preferred brand, he told her no and walked me over to get a granola bar. I wanted them so bad and I was mad at him, but when I calmed down, I thanked him. I dreamed about Jacoby the other night. We talked and he says he’s watching all of us.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes. “That’s good. I miss him, dad. I really miss my dad.”

Randi hugged me from behind and I leaned into her, welcoming the contact. “I know, Cilla, I know. Be thankful you have Randi. I’ve got a house with two cats and friends or family that randomly stop by. But I’m alone a lot and it’s getting harder. I miss your dad, but each day gets a little easier.”

“I love you dad. Randi and I will bring the girls by tomorrow okay? We’re off so as soon as they get out of school, we’ll come right over, I promise.”

“I love you, too, and I’ll look forward to that. Have a good night, Cilla.”

We hung up after that and I sighed, wiping my face. “Food’s going to be here soon?” I asked and Randi nodded, resting her head on my shoulder. “Want to talk now?”

“Of course. You lead the way.”

Looking into her grey eyes, I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Tonight’s better. I’m craving the cigarettes more than anything; nothing hard, just a good smoke, maybe a cocktail to go with it.”

Randi handed me a glass and I smiled. “It’s a mocktail but it will have to do. No alcohol for a while, deal?”

I shook her hand, knowing she’d keep me honest. Really, the mocktail was pretty good. Most alcohols are now available non-alcoholic and it’s nice for people like me. I sipped my drinking, noting that my wife had one as well.

“I can’t do anything for the cigarettes, really, but here,” she told me, handing me a Tootsie Roll. One usually does it for me. “Do what you need to do.”

I heard the doorbell ring and went into the kitchen, “smoking” the candy. A few “puffs” seemed to settle me and I ate the candy, as it’s a sort of prize for not smoking. The smell of the food drew me to my wife and I was glad our session had been short. It felt good to talk things out but I was always glad when it was over.

“Okay food, mocktails, get the kids, give them a bath and to bed, then it’s resume our night,” she said and I couldn’t argue with that.

“Ohh…angry chicken, extra angry,” I exclaimed, drooling. Randi laughed, knowing how I adored the spicy dish. Only the restaurant closest to us makes it and I get it almost every time. “Thank you!”

I dished up plenty of food for myself and took everything to the back patio, sitting near the pool. I was hoping that after ‘put the kids to bed’ was ‘skinny dipping with my wife’. It’s our pool, it’s got a privacy fence and it will be dark; bugger off.

“After we get the kids in bed are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked, just to be sure. The coy smirk and nod said it all and I grinned. “Let’s get those baths done double time, then, Mrs. Shaddix.”

Randi nodded, as we sat outside and ate our meal. We don’t eat out often because it’s expensive and we can cook healthier food at home. Of course, we have to have a treat now and again, and this will be a very nice treat for both of us.

***

It was, indeed, a great treat for us. Once the girls were in bed and sound asleep, we retired to the pool, careful not to make too much noise. We’re both kind of, ahem, loud, so we keep it quiet outside. Needless to say, we were both walking funny the next morning. TMI? Sorry.

Anyway, it helped me relax and that was a good thing. Work got busy after that and time flew for both of us. We kept up with dad and Eliza, who are both doing okay. Eliza’s still struggling but has worked out some coping strategies with Clayton and they seem to be helping. Nothing is going to cure her over night, of course, but it they can nip the problem in the bud now, it won’t get out of control.

“Mom? Can you help me with my math?” Ava asked and I snapped out of my day dream. “You okay?”

The kids are holding up a lot better than I thought they would, which is nice. Of course, they miss their grandpa, but it seems they’re able to move on with life much faster than myself and Eliza.

“What’s the question?” I asked, after I put supper in the oven. It was a baked chicken kind of night, one of Eleanor’s recipes, and the kids love it. Math was always my thing and thankfully, my brain isn’t fried from all the drugs I did. “Ah…algebra, huh?”

She nodded, sighing. Kids took algebra in the sixth grade now and she hated it. She just wanted to be a photographer the rest of her life and didn’t understand why she needed stuff like algebra. I have given up trying to explain it to her and simply told her if that if she fails, she won’t get a new camera.

“Yeah. Again. I hate this stuff, mom, and I don’t need it. Why am I being forced to take it?” she asked, her eyes tearing up. She’s not very good at math, but I haven’t figured out why. Zach and Gena are excellent at math, so is Garrison and he tells us the birth mother is as well. Ava’s been tested for learning disabilities, but nothing has come up yet. “This is the final problem by the way; I just don’t understand it or how to do it.”

Looking at the simple, entry-level problem, I knew the answer right away. Checking her other problems, I sighed; she’d done them all incorrectly and had all the wrong answers. Thankfully, there were only ten questions, so starting over won’t be the end of the world.

“Baby girl, you’ve done these all wrong and we have to start over,” I told her, as gently as possible. We’ve done this before and she usually groans and complains, but I wasn’t prepared for her outburst.

“Oh fuck you!” she shouted and I was taken aback; she’s never said a swear word around me. “I hate this bullshit, mom, and I demand you take me out of this fucking class! I’m going to take pictures! I’m not going to be doing complicated math stuff! Point, shoot, examine, do it all over again. The most I need to know is how to run a damn cash register. I should be taking classes on photography! Art classes! Not stupid fucking algebra! I hate it and I want out of this class RIGHT FUCKING NOW!”

Her book went sailing through the air and I flinched as the glass to the deck door shattered, her book landing with a splash in the pool. She was bawling, gulping in air between sobs. I was stunned as I sat there, watching my daughter have an atomic meltdown over some math problems. I didn’t know if I should be angry at her for swearing and breaking a window or sympathetic because she hated the class so passionately.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” I finally stuttered, standing.

“Say I don’t have to go back to this class!” she shouted, stomping her foot. She’d calmed somewhat but was still crying and I felt kind of bad for her. “You don’t seem to understand how hellish this is for me, mom! I was in class today crying because I got called to the board. I had a panic attack up there because I didn’t know how to do the problem. The teacher wasn’t any help, either, because she just kept asking me to answer the question. Finally, one of the girls who understood took me out of the room and calmed me down. The teacher tried to give me fucking detention! I have to stay after school tomorrow because I’m too stupid for algebra! I only got out of it today because I had dance after school.”

That certainly wasn’t fair. I glanced over as I heard the kitchen door open and watched Randi take in the scene. Bethany came downstairs, clearly confused and cautious as I looked at my oldest daughter.

“I’ll talk to your teacher in the morning, okay? I have tomorrow off and I’ll see what I can do. Just because you couldn’t answer the question doesn’t mean you need to stay after. But Ava, we can’t pull you out of this class. I know that’s what you want, but it’s required or you’ll be held back—“

“I hate you!” she shouted and ran out the door, Randi hot on her heels.

Sitting down at the table, I put my head down and cried. Bethany’s tiny hand patted my back but I couldn’t be comforted. I needed my dad so bad right now, because he’d now how to handle this. Randi’s text tone sounded and I checked it.

I found her. She’s at a friend’s house and refuses to come out. I told her we’d give her time to calm down.

I didn’t have the heart to argue and I simply answered Okay before I closed my phone. I had no idea what to do in this situation and I started to feel very, very alone.

15

Nursing my third bottle of wine, I looked blearily through the windshield of my truck; Jacoby had gone missing and I had to find him. Turning onto a street both foreign and familiar, I pulled up in front of a large, two story, white house. There was a neatly trimmed lawn, beautiful flower beds, and a neat wrought iron fence gracing the front and a large black SUV was parked in the driveway. I had no idea why I was here, but it felt familiar.

Exiting the red truck with the full backseat (why are details so important to me right now?), I walked up to the gate. The lock was difficult to work but I got it open, noting no squeaking noises when the gate swung inward. I walked up the wet sidewalk, feeling the cold drops of rain on my neck and bare chest; I’d forgotten to put a shirt on. If I believed in Heaven, I’d think it was the angels crying; maybe it was.

Looking at the brushed-nickel front screen door, I opened it, pressing on a large, black button. Inside, there was a dark red door with a brushed-nickel door handle; it was locked. Distressed, I pounded on the door as hard as I could, hoping someone was home. I took a swig of wine and hoped Jacoby would be here.

“Jacoby!” I cried, pounding on the door, the bottle almost slipping from my fingers. I finished it and tossed it to the ground, where it thunked and stood straight. “Jacoby!”

The door opened and I stared into a pair of hazel eyes belonging to a man twice my size. I recognized him: Matt, his name was Matt. I was at Matt’s house. The look on his face made me wonder what had him concerned as he pulled me and my bottle inside; I shivered, dripping water all over his rug. It was such a nice rug, with fall leaves on it and I hated to dirty it.

“Val!” he shouted and I flinched; was he angry? “Grab my bathrobe and a towel, quick!”

Confused, I looked down, the room swaying as I rocked on my feet; I was naked. Oops. I reached for my bottle, distressed that it was empty. A very petite blonde with grey hair came downstairs and I smiled; that was Val, always so pretty.

“Jimmy! You must be freezing! What are you doing out in this rainstorm naked?” she admonished me, rubbing the towel in my hair while Matt got me into the robe. It was warm and I welcomed the comfort it brought. “What’s wrong?”

“I gotta find Jack,” I slurred, moving toward the kitchen. Surely this is where he’d be, cooking for everyone. He gave Matt cooking lessons sometimes because the man burnt boxed mac and cheese once. No, really. “Jack!”

I didn’t see Jacoby, but I did see more to drink. I forgot Matt was a rum guy and I grabbed the bottle, grinning; I’d missed rum. I just about had it to my lips when Matt took it away.

“Jimmy, come sit down,” he said, gently, taking me into the living room. Their house was so beautiful. They had pictures of their kids and grandkids all over the place, the living room was done in fall colors and the red walls were so perfect. “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

I swayed a bit on their nice orange couch…what a strange color for a couch. “I dunno…three glasses of wine?”

Matt’s eyebrows seemed to grow a bit taller. “Jimmy, there’s about four glasses in one bottle. That bottle you brought is empty and you’re drunker than three glasses. I’d put my money on three bottles, maybe. What’s going on?”

I hiccupped (how cliché) and looked into Matt’s eyes. “I have to find Jack. Is he here?”

Now Matt really looks concerned and I looked at Val as she took me into her arms. “Jimmy,” she started, brushing my wet hair from my forehead; October is cold this year. “Jacoby passed away two months ago.”

I shoved her away, barely listening to her startled yelp as she hit the floor. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stood, frantically looking for a way out. Hands grabbed me as I screamed, crying and I tried to hit whomever had me.

“NO!” I screamed, shaking my head. “NO! He’s not dead! He’s not!”

I was hysterical now, as Matt held me, pinning my arms to my side. I buried my head into his chest, screaming for my Jack.

“Jimmy, breathe, please. We have to talk,” Matt begged and I felt someone holding me from behind. I wanted it to be Jack, but the arms were too feminine. “Val, run a bath for him, please, the lavender bubbles.”

“He’s not dead,” I sobbed, holding my friend as tight as I could. “He’s not. Tell me he’s not dead, Matt, please!”

“Jimmy, did you take your meds today?” Matt asked and I leaned back, confused. Meds? “Did you take your breathing medication?”

“I probably did,” I slurred, not sure where he was going with this. “Why?”

“Jimmy, did you take your memory medication?” he asked and I blinked. “Shit.”

“Bath’s ready,” Val called and I moved with Matt. “Jimmy, honey, breathe.”

It was harder to breathe, but I have COPD so that’s normal. “I have COPD, it’s normal to have trouble breathing.”

I wasn’t feeling so good now and I was glad when the toilet came into view. Most of whatever I’d drank tonight came up and I sighed, waiting for the barrage to end. Val rubbed my back while Matt took care of something else in the room, don’t know what. I apologize for not making sense right now.

“Let’s get you into the bath,” Val said, and I nodded, accepting a wet cloth to wipe my mouth and nose; I hate vomiting. “Jimmy, how much have you had to drink tonight?”

“I dunno. Three bottles of wine, I think. I’m such a fucking lightweight.”

The water felt lovely and it was luring me into sleep. “I need to feed the cats.”

“I’ll do it,” Matt said, and left the bathroom, phone in hand; I hope he’s not calling the cops. “Be back shortly; holler if you need help with him.”

“We’ll be fine,” Val said, as she grabbed the sprayer and washed my hair. “You want the jets on, hon?”

I nodded, closing my eyes. “Thanks.”

I was still crying, refusing to believe my Jack was gone, but I suspected it might be true; where else would he be right now?

“Is Jack really dead?” I asked, as my tears subsided.

“He is, honey,” she said, rinsing my hair. The lavender was luring me to sleep, but I forced my eyes open. “If you’re ready for bed, we can head that way.”

I nodded, accepting her help to get out after she ran the jets for a few minutes. I almost fell over, but she kept me up and dressed me in some borrowed clothes; they looked ridiculous on my tiny frame. I felt the cold sheets under me and finally gave into the pull of sleep; maybe Jack would be alive tomorrow.

***

Morning brought a smashing hangover. I haven’t felt hungover in years and I’m ashamed to say I’m hungover on wine. Hell, I don’t even know where I am or how I got here and that’s the epitome of embarrassing.

Sitting up slowly, I clutched my aching head, wondering how the hell I was this hungover. I remember having three bottles…and yeah, that’s a lot but, it’s wine and it’s not that strong. I took in the room as best I could through half-closed eyes, afraid to open them to the blinding sun.

“Jim?”

Startled, I massaged my temples, trying to figure out why Val was here. I glanced at her, shielding my eyes from the blinding sun; drinking at 67 is not what it was at 17. My friend moved to sit next to me on the bed and my location started to register with me.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, massaging my shoulders. I relaxed a bit and started to feel a little better. I still needed some water, of course, but this was helping. “You were pretty messed up last night.”

“I was?” I asked, feeling something niggling at the back of my brain. “What happened?”

Val sighed, rubbing her head. Was the hangover contagious? “Well, you drove over here and I don’t know how you got here safely. You kept asking for Jacoby and tried to drink some rum, but Matt stopped you. We got you to calm down and got you into a bath. You were naked when you got here and it was raining. Matt went to feed the cats and I got you calmed down and to bed. Oh, and I have here some Tylenol and some water.”

I accepted them gratefully, hoping something would knock out this headache. “I’m sorry, Val,” I said, biting my lower lip. “I don’t even know if I took my meds yesterday.”

She handed me a little pill box next, and I frowned. “Yesterday was Saturday, so it looks like you didn’t. But you can take today’s.”

I nodded, making sure I’d taken all my meds; I didn’t even ask how they got here. Val even had my nebulizer and I used that as well, before heading in to take a shower. Matt must’ve planned ahead, because things from home, including clothes, were here as well. I’d need my oxygen, which I noticed I’d woken up without and I suppose I’m lucky I didn’t stop breathing during the night. Hanging my head in the shower, I finally let loose the tears that I’d kept hidden; I was embarrassed and I can hear Jacoby berating my behavior. I knew I’d done something wrong and now I had to fix it…I just don’t know how.

16

***Had a comment on another place I post this that "the characters don't act their age" and "aren't believable" Those of you that have kept up with them from the beginning: thoughts?

***

“He did what?”

My Uncle Matt sighed and I waited for him to repeat himself; I don’t think I heard him right. “Your dad showed up to my house last night, drunk and confused. He was looking for your dad, but Val and I took care of him. However, I think it might pertinent for someone to check on him every few hours and make sure he’s got his meds taken; he hadn’t taken them when this happened.”

Fuck. We thought dad was going to be okay on his own, but I guess not. It’s only October; Katie doesn’t move in until January and she doesn’t want her house sitting empty if she goes early. But Matt had a point.

“How are we supposed to do that, though? Katie’s moving in come January, but she can’t go any sooner. I don’t know if he’s going to take well to this, either. Does he qualify for home healthcare or something?”

“I have no idea, he might, but if he doesn’t we still need to do something, Eliza,” Matt told me and I nodded, leaning back in my office chair. This was the first morning in a while I wasn’t hungover and I credited Clayton with that. “Any ideas?”

“Where is he now?” I asked, listening to the background noises. Matt must be at home or else his office is as soundproof as mine.

“He’s at home with Val; she took the day off to spend with him. He says he’s going to his counseling appointments, but either he’s telling a fib or he’s not getting anything out of them. He was in a state last night, that’s for sure.”

“I feel bad,” I blurted out, hoping the do not disturb sign on my door would be honored.

“How do you mean?” Matt asked, and I heard a note of concern in his voice.

I took a moment, looking at the mural on my wall; it seemed faded today and I figured it was time for a touch up. “Well, he’s been trying to help me and Cilla with our problems and been brushing off our offers to help him. He’s been strong for us, but no one’s been strong for him.”

Matt sighed and I wondered if a lecture was imminent. “I think we’ve done what we can, Liza. We’ve all been there for him, we continue to be there for him, but in so many ways, he has to be there for himself. Clearly, if he takes his meds, he does better; when he doesn’t he forgets what happened. I think we saw a glimpse of the future, though he’ll be sober, of course. I don’t know if it’s time to think about assisted living for him or what.”

Blinking, I shook my head, as a timeline of my kids scrolled by on my laptop. “I don’t think we need to get that drastic yet. I mean, we should do something, but I don’t think assisted living is the right move yet. Maybe we should start with taking turns checking on him. Most of us are up fairly early and he works Monday, Wednesday, and Friday with Clayton. So, maybe we can just divide the week up, you know? He could maybe bring his pills to work or something so Clayton can check them. We’ll think of something, but I’m not ready to commit him to assisted living yet, that’s for sure.”

“Hold on.”

I listened to the rustle as Matt covered the phone and waited for him to finish his business. While I waited, I thought about dad; maybe it was time to do something. After all, he’s not getting any younger and a cure for dementia is still several years away. There are several promising medications, but the one he’s taking is already diminishing in strength, so why try another?

“Liza? I’ve got to get going for my first appointment. But think about what we talked over, okay? Maybe we can do lunch?”

“Sounds good. Call me a little before noon and I’ll see where I am,” I told him and then hung up. I ran a hand over my face, glancing at the photo of Jacoby on my desk. It had been taken at my parent’s cabin up at Bear Valley a couple of years ago. He looked so happy, snow covering his snowsuit after a snowball fight with Jimmy. His grin was wide and his eyes were bright, as he looked right into the camera. That was my dad, the man who was happy out here but never as happy as he had been in Iowa. “Maybe you guys should’ve kept the farm, dad; it might have kept you around a little longer.”

I knew, of course, that he’d disagree. After all, Jimmy’s health improved once they were out here and his doctors here said another hard winter in Iowa would certainly have killed him. But I can’t help but think everyone blew things out of proportion, you know? Was Jimmy’s health really that bad? Was it really that important that they come out here? I have a lot of regret about the role I played in their moving to California, even though I know they wanted to. As much as I am grateful for the few years I had with them out here, I keep thinking they should’ve stayed and lived out their years on the farm in Iowa.

“Oh Liza.”

I felt Star pulling me over to the couch in my office and she held me, wiping my face. “Honey, you’ve got to let go of those regrets, okay? For one, Jacoby would never approve, and for another, you can’t change anything. I know it’s normal to regret things, but it won’t bring your dad back.”

“I fucking know that!” I roared, then sighed. “I’m sorry; you’re only trying to help. You didn’t deserve that.”

To my surprise, Star smiled, the stars tattooed around the outside of each eye seeming to glow a bit. “Anger is normal, love. Don’t worry about it. I just know that you have a lot of regrets and as normal as they are, they won’t change anything. I’m no doctor, but I’m pretty sure another winter really would’ve killed your dad, honey. Can you imagine not having had Jimmy the last five years?”

I shook my head, wiping my face with a tissue. I’m not vain by any means but I’ve stopped wearing makeup for the foreseeable future.

“Well, then imagine if he’d stayed on the farm. I know it was hard to for them to leave, but at least a friend is renting it. That means you can always go back and visit. Your dad is buried there, so you can be sure to get back and visit him, right? This is not the end of your line, Eliza. But the winters out there, for Jimmy, are brutal. It’s not like we can control the weather, after all; he’d die if he was out there, because of his lungs. So, he’s better off out here. I know, too, that his memory is going, but it would’ve gone no matter what. So, I know it’s hard, but you really do have to let go of your regrets, Liza. It will take time, but remember that Jacoby always told you not to worry.”

I nodded, still trying to dry my face and eyes. “I know, Star, I know. But you don’t seem to have noticed the problems I’ve been having.” She smiled at me, and the nodded. “You noticed? Well, I’m working on them. But for some reason, I can’t live without my dad.”

I gave up speaking at that point and dissolved into more tears in Star’s arms. To know that my assistant manager had noticed made me wonder if anyone else had noticed. I’m sober today, not hungover, but that’s going to change tonight. I tried to keep my breathing even (my asthma is under excellent control and I’d like to keep it that way) as I sobbed, but that was far too difficult. When breathing became just too much of a chore, I listened as Star called for someone to help her. I’m pretty sure I should’ve been embarrassed being hauled out of the shop on a stretcher, but I couldn’t breathe enough to care.

***

“Eliza?”

I cracked my eyes open and sighed, looking at over at dad; what a reversal of roles. “Hey,” I croaked out, breathing in deeply. I felt some irritation under my nose and a quick check revealed oxygen tubing. I wasn’t sure if I was in the ER or a patient room, but at least dad was here.”Where am I?”

Dad sighed, his blue eyes troubled as he took my hand. “ER at Huntington Beach Hospital. You had a pretty wicked asthma attack at work. Star said you were pretty emotional and she called an ambulance when you couldn’t breathe.”

I remembered our conversation and nodded, licking my dry lips. “Am I allowed to go home?”

Dad shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I sent Star back to deal with the shop and said I’d call when we knew more. You had a couple of breathing treatments and you seem fine now. You scared me.”

I squeezed his hand, thinking what an odd match we made right now, both of us using oxygen. “I’m sorry, dad, I didn’t mean to scare you. I—I was just talking to Star, who’s very observant. It’s not fair on you to keep holding us up, dad; we need to be there for you, too.”

He opened his mouth to respond when the door to the drab beige ER room opened and Matt rushed in, his face awash in concern and worry.

“Good lord, Eliza,” he breathed, sinking into a chair next to dad. “I called about our lunch date and Star said you were in the ER; she’d forgotten to call me in all the chaos. What happened?”

I sighed, rubbing my nose a bit. “I just had a bit of an emotional overload, I guess. I was thinking about Jacoby and the more I talked, the harder it got to breathe. Star called the ambulance and here I am. We’re waiting to hear about my release and then I’ll head back—“

“Home. You will head for home,” Matt interrupted me, chorusing with Jimmy…that wasn’t creepy at all. “You are going home and taking a couple of days off. You just had a wicked asthma attack, and I won’t have my employees dying on shift.”

I know that was supposed to be funny but it reminded me of Jacoby and I started crying again. Apparently realizing his mistake, Matt’s had flew over his mouth as dad tried to comfort me.

“I didn’t mean that, Eliza, I’m so sorry,” he sputtered, as dad reached for the tiny box of industrially thin tissue. “I am so sorry, to both of you. I should go.”

“No, Matt, stay,” dad said, rubbing my shoulders. He was crying, too, and Matt was thoroughly embarrassed. “It’s okay, you didn’t mean it and you apologized. Everyone says something they don’t mean from time to time; please, don’t worry about it.”

I knew Matt, though, as he paced uncomfortably for a bit then sat down, biting his lower lip. I had started to calm, just in time for the doctor to come in. A bit of embarrassed explaining by Matt brought her up to date and she frowned. Thankfully, it was my regular doctor, so she was a bit more understanding.

“I’m going to do something I rarely do, Eliza,” she told me and I looked up at her, taking a deep breath as I wiped my face. “I’m going to prescribe two weeks off work. Normally, I’d just say a few days, but you need more time. While you’re off, you’re going to be seeing a grief counselor one on one for one hour a day on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday of both weeks. Since today is Saturday, that means you’ll start this Monday. I know you don’t want to, but you can’t keep going like this, either. I realize your uncle accidently said something that upset you, but even after two months, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did, okay? I’ve set you up with a personal friend, Dr. Morano. She’s on fifth floor of the clinical building and will see you at one on Monday.”

I didn’t think I could argue, as Clayton rushed in, frazzled. “Liza? I tried to get here sooner, honey, but I was right in the middle—“

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling. “I’ve got a prescribed two week break from work and a grief counselor to see, but I’m going to be okay. I just had an attack at work because I was crying about dad, that’s all. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Clayton held me for a moment, then looked up at the doctor. “Sorry for interrupting.”

She smiled, shaking her head. “No worries. I’m going to go ahead and release you, Liza. Follow my treatment plan and see me on the second Friday of your little vacation, after your appointment, okay? Then we’ll talk about releasing you back to work.”

I signed the paperwork from there and then followed my family out to Clayton’s car. I hugged dad and held him for a moment.

“We’ll hang out while I’m off, okay?” I suggested and he nodded, kissing my temple before getting into his truck to head for home. I buckled in and then took Clayton’s hand. “Sorry for the drama.”

He smiled, kissing the back of my hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, turning for home. “I’m just sorry I didn’t get here right away. But I was in the middle of a pretty important shoot, so I had to finish. I’m just glad you’re okay, honey. Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay?”

I nodded, leaning my head against the window; I was tired. I stayed awake until we got home and then crawled into bed. Maybe I’ll dream about Jacoby while I sleep; I miss my dad and I really need to have a talk with him.

17

Using a ruler, I made sure the drinking glasses were perfectly lined up in the cupboard. Rulers are good for this sort of thing, after all, and I have several of them. Next, I put the clean plates in the cupboard, making sure they were flush against the side wall, but not too far forward or back on the shelf. Satisfied with my organizational skills, I closed the cupboard and the dishwasher, noting that that bit of work was done.

Matt was over this morning to make sure I got my medication and while I appreciated the sentiment, I was annoyed. I know that I forgot that one day, but this feels like I’m being punished for something beyond my control. Right now, I think my memory is good, as long as I stay on the medication.

“Dad?”

I looked toward the front entry way and waved to Eliza, still on her forced vacation. She looked better than two days ago and I beckoned her to the kitchen.

“Hey dad,” she said, giving me a hug. I returned the sentiment, smiling, then sat at the table. “How are you doing?”

I shrugged, crossing my legs. “Okay, I guess. But it’s harder without Jacoby then I thought it would be. I’m trying not to repeat the other night, though. I gave the neighbors all the wine, which wasn’t much.”

Eliza nodded, and for the first time I can remember, there was an awkward silence. “Did you take your meds today?” she finally asked.

I nodded, looking out over the ocean; it wasn’t the farm land of home, that’s for sure. “I did. Matt was over early to check on me, and since you were coming today, Clayton gave me the day off. But I did take my meds and I know someone will come back tonight and make sure I take those as well.”

Leaning back in her chair, Eliza nodded, smiling. “What did you want to do today?” she asked and I thought about that. “Unless you just want to hang out here at the house, of course…got any projects that need doing?”

I looked over at the fridge, which had my to-do list and a shopping list. There were no major house projects right now, so I shook my head.

“I need to go grocery shopping, I guess, if you want to tag along for that. It’s not very exciting, but it’s something to do, I guess.”

“We can do that if you want. I don’t care what we do today,” my daughter answered, standing and taking the list from the fridge. “There’s not much on here, dad…you are eating, aren’t you?”

I tried not to be annoyed, reminding myself that her heart was in the right place. But I didn’t want to spend the day being questioned for everything I do or don’t do. Nodding, I started to leave the kitchen, turning only when Eliza called for me.

“Dad, there’s a lot of moldy food in here,” she said, gesturing to the open fridge. I looked into the fridge and realized she was right. “And most of it’s take out. Dad, you know how to cook, so what’s with all this food?”

I shrugged, wondering if inviting her over had been for naught. She was throwing the entire contents of my fridge away and I frowned.

“Better expand that list, dad.”

I left the kitchen instead, heading for my room…our room. It was always going to be our room, mine and Jacoby’s, and it would always of off limits to the kids, even as adults. I locked the door behind me and laid down on the bed, hugging his pillow. Life without Jacoby fucking sucks, let me tell you. I mean, I can cook and I do cook; she’ll find plenty of food that I cooked when she’s busy throwing my stuff away. It’s just that sometimes, take out is easier, you know?

“Dad? I didn’t mean to upset you. Please, open the door.”

Eliza knocked but I ignored her. I didn’t want to spend the day with her anymore, and in time, I figured she’d go away. I just laid on the bed, holding Jacoby’s pillow, crying. I know that not eating isn’t right, but I eat at least twice per day, if I’m hungry. Jacoby would understand, because I can’t eat if I’m not hungry.

“Dad? Look I’m sorry, okay? But it’s not healthy to have all that take out and to let it rot in your fridge like that, either. I’m only trying to help, okay? Don’t turn me away over that, dad.”

I just ignored her, though, wiping my face, as she continued to knock on the door. I didn’t want anybody to help me with anything, I wanted to be an adult and do things for myself. After all, isn’t that what life is all about? Even living with dad, Jacoby and I did little for him, just help him walk sometimes or run an errand, do some housework. I want to be my dad, you know? I know that past drug use is eating my brain away, but I’m not going to let it get to me just yet.

“Dad, come on. We’re supposed to have fun today, don’t let this mar things, okay? I still want to have fun and we can get groceries after. But, and not to make things worse, this is why we’re all coming over to check on you. This is why Katie’s going to be moving in after Christmas. Someone has to help you care for yourself, dad. Your memory is getting worse, even if it doesn’t seem that way. If you’re leaving food to rot in your fridge, forgetting to take your meds, and other important things, then we have to do something. I know you don’t want us to help, I know you want to be an adult, but dad, it’s time. I want you to be at home for as long as possible, but things are getting worse and we’re going to help you, like it or not.”

I remained silent, even as I’m pretty sure my daughter kicked the door. I know that was her scream of frustration but I don’t care. I won’t be babied and that’s all there is to it.

“Well, fine, then, dad. I’m going to get you some groceries and then I guess I’ll go home. You might as well go to work, then, since Clayton only gave you the day off to spend with me. He’s pretty backed up at the shop and could really use the help.”

I listened as she walked away and sat up, sighing. I wiped my face, then put my shoes on, grabbed my camera and went to the truck. If that’s how she’s going to be, then fine. I’d just have to be honest with Clayton when I show up to work, and we’ll see what he thinks of things.

***

It turns out Clayton wasn’t backed up at all and that’s why he was able to give me the day off. When I arrived, he was surprised, as it was a slow day and he’d had one appointment so far. I’d explained the problem and he insisted I return home to finish my complimentary day off. I tried to refuse, but there was nothing for me to do, so I went back home. My fridge and cupboards were stocked when I returned but Eliza refused to answer my texts or calls.

Looking around the huge, empty house, I started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I was quick to change into swim trunks, slather on sunscreen and then I grabbed a little raft I had. As soon as my feet hit the sand, I hurried to the ocean, climbing into my little raft (this one had sides) with a book. I wanted to relax and going out to sea sounded like a good idea. I knew how to stay near enough to get back to shore and I left my phone on the beach on a towel.

“Dad?”

I just can’t be left alone, can I? I had read one page, had not had a nap yet, and there’s Cilla, standing on the beach with the girls, waving to me. I placed my bookmark and carefully navigated to the shore, crawling out of the raft and onto my towel in aggravation. At least I can re-apply the sunscreen, I guess.

“Yes?” I snapped, turning to face my visitors. I noticed Cilla flinch, but I didn’t care; I wanted to be left alone.

“You were supposed to meet us at Ruby’s with Eliza for ice cream,” she said, her voice laced with hurt. “But I guess you were busy. We’ll come back another time.”

I watched her walk away, and listened as Bethany drilled her mom about the ice cream. I’d totally forgotten about meeting them today, but oh well. When they were out of sight, I returned to my interrupted book on my raft and returned to the water. I don’t understand why I can’t be left alone. It’s all very well and good they want to check on me, but I can be left alone for a short time, you know.

I floated the remainder of the day and finally came in when the sun was setting. My phone showed one text and that was it; neither of the girls had tried to contact me. The text was from Katie, wondering if I wanted some company tonight for supper; I told her I’d already eaten and told her we’d try another time.

“Jimmy?”

Oh for fucks sake.

“What?” I snapped, pre-heating the oven. I took out a frozen pizza and added some cheese and pepperoni, then put it in the oven and set a timer; dinner had been a complete loss today and I was hungry for once. “Come to make sure I’m still alive?”

Matt seemed taken aback by my words, his wrinkled, bright hazel eyes confused for a moment. “No, I came like I promised to make sure you got your meds tonight. I’m sorry if that upsets you.”

I was going to yell at him, but it didn’t quite come out that way. Instead, I started crying again and accepted the hug he wrapped me in.

“I think I alienated the girls today,” I sobbed, frowning as my friend held me. “I got mad at Eliza and I got mad at Cilla and they both walked away from me today. I know everyone means well, Matt, but I need time and I’m not getting that.”

“I know, Jim, I know, but you’re not taking good care of yourself. We’re willing to give you the alone time, but it’s got to be interspersed with visits from us, okay? I’m sure the girls will come around like always, just give them time.”

I wasn’t convinced, though. My girls were as stubborn and hard-headed as me and I could hold a grudge for a very long time. I leaned back wiping my face as the timer sounded for my food. Any good mood I’d had of late was gone and I didn’t think it was coming back.

“Want some?” I asked and Matt accepted, getting the plates down while I cut the food. The pizza was too much for me alone, so Jacoby and I would always share it. “Jack and I always shared these.”

Matt set the table and finally we settled in to eat. I took my evening meds and then started eating. I wasn’t very hungry but at least I had company, though it did nothing to lift my mood. After my second slice I called it good, leaning back in my chair, watching the moon over the pool in the backyard. I remember as a kid dad would pull the shade during meals because of the sun glinting off the water and blinding us.

“I can’t do this, Matt,” I confessed, wiping my mouth. Everything in this family revolves around food, I swear. “I can’t live without Jacoby. I alienated the girls today, I disappointed my grandkids, Eliza cleaned my fridge out and the bought me groceries. Matt, I’m losing my mind here. I’m in denial about my memory loss, Matt. But you know what? Eliza asked if I was eating and I didn’t have an answer for her. I think I’m eating, but I don’t know if I am. She asked me how long some of the food had been in the fridge, I didn’t know. I thought I was doing okay, but I’m not. And now I have two kids and five grandkids that are angry at me. Can’t I just be with Jack?”

I didn’t mean to alarm my friend but his face indicated I’d scared him. “Jimmy, come on, don’t think like that. I know things are rough now, but it’s only been two months. You have to give it more time, Jimmy. Jacoby wouldn’t like how things are going now and he’d tell you that, too. You have to work on being strong, okay? We’re all here for you, Jimmy, you just have to reach out to us. We’ve been best friends since high school but you’ve kind of ignored us lately. We understand why, but if you’re hurting this badly then reach out to us.”

I nodded, ashamed at myself. “It’s just so hard, Matt. You guys all have your spouses so you have no idea how lucky you are. You go home at night and Val is there, you have someone there to talk to and do stuff with. I’ve been a widower now for two months and I’m going insane. Jack and I were so close, Matt, and it was rare to see us apart. I don’t know how to function without him, but now I have to. I know that I have kids nearby and grandkids, while your kids live further away. But you have your wife, Matt, and I have no one. I am alone and that sucks.”

Matt held me while I cried once again, wondering if that’s all I was going to do. No one has any idea how hard it is to come home and be alone. If dad had lived longer, it might’ve been easier but it didn’t work that way. I didn’t care when breathing became difficult and Matt hooked up my nebulizer. I wish it hadn’t worked, but it did, and I finally closed my eyes, falling asleep in Matt’s arms.

18

I can’t believe my dad! He knows how much the girls love him and he knows how much they look forward to ice cream with their grandpa. And let’s not talk about the fact that I drove down to HB from Irvine when traffic was outright hell! I requested today off for this and I could’ve worked! Oh I am so mad at him right now!

“Mommy? Did Grandpa just forget about ice cream?” Bethany asked, sniffling a bit. She’s cried most of the way home and it breaks my heart.

“Yes, he did, honey. Grandpa has trouble remembering things sometimes, that’s all,” I explained, though I didn’t really believe it. I know dad has memory problems, but I don’t know if this was related or not. If it was, that’d be easier to except for some reason. “He didn’t mean to forget.”

This is what we tell kids to keep them from being too disappointed. But after speaking to Eliza earlier, I think there’s more to this afternoon then his memory problems. If he wants to push everyone away, he’s doing a fantastic job of it. When I’ve cooled off, though, he’s going to find I’m a lot harder to get rid of them he seems to think.

“Fuck!” I muttered, as I heard the crunch of metal on metal. I looked up to see I was halfway into the intersection of the light and there was a car right on my backend. Seething, I got out of the car, as the drive of the other car got out as well. “What the fuck?!”

The girl seemed genuinely scared and I almost felt bad. Noting the phone in her hand, I looked at it, seeing a half-composed text message. You would think in this day and age we’d be beyond texting and driving, but no, teenagers are still stupid.

“I hope rear ending me, when I have my children in the car, was worth it!” I screamed, hearing sirens in the distance. I took her phone and shoved it in my pocket, glaring at her. “What the hell were you thinking texting and driving like that?!”

“I-I’m sorry. I do it all the time,” she responded in a small, squeaky voice. “C-can I at least call my dad?”

I returned her phone, supervising the call, while I called Randi. The cops had arrived now, with the usual ambulance and fire truck in tow, just in case. The girls were crying and once I had the girl’s phone back in my hands, I went to my girls.

“Calm down, okay? I have to talk to the cops and then we can get going.”

Looking at the car, though, I think we’re going to need a ride with Randi. She’s at work, so she can’t answer her phone. Sending out a text to another friend in town, I was relieved when she said she was on her way.

“What happened?” an office asked and I showed her the girl’s phone.

“She rear ended me. I was speaking to my daughter, answering a question while we waited for the light and then I got hit. When she got out, she was still working on this text message.”

I showed the officer the phone and she nodded, making notes. She then took the phone and held onto it, to the protest of the girl whose car was still up against mine. I spotted a couple of tow trucks in the distance and sighed.

“Okay and your name? Also, I need your insurance.”

It didn’t take much to get things wrapped up and by that time Abbi was there to pick up me and the girls. My neck was a little sore, so I agreed to get checked out as a precaution. The girls would ride with Abbi and the officer was kind enough to help get the car seats moved around while I went with the medics. I only agreed because it’s paid for and Sam, one of the medics, was going to call Randi for me.

“Just tell her not to panic,” I told him, wishing we could’ve skipped the uncomfortable collar he put on my neck. “Will I be able to see my chiro if it’s minor?”

He nodded, doing all of the routine checks he was required to do. “Your blood pressure is up, but I assume that’s because you’re angry. What happened?”

“Damn girl was texting and driving,” I explained, taking a couple of deep breaths. I needed to calm down but everything today was getting my anger up. “Fucking teenagers.”

Sam nodded, because we’ve all seen worse than today. She did hit me pretty hard, but it couldn’t been a lot worse. Sighing, I rubbed a hand over my face and puffed air through my lips.

“At least it’s not like that accident last week,” he told me, as we pulled into UCI’s ambulance entrance. I figured this would be overkill, but since my neck was bothering pretty well it didn’t hurt to get it checked out. “All right, let’s make sure you’re still in one piece.”

I laughed a bit, even though the gesture hurt, knowing darn good and well I had a hell of a case of whiplash. It would clear over a few days, but I was going to be in a world of hurt in the mean time.

“Cilla? What happened?” Randi came running into the ER just as I got a cubicle, her face filled with worry. “All Sam said was that you were hurt.”

“I got rear ended by some teenager texting and driving. I think it’s just one hell of a case of whiplash. I’m going to be hurting for a few days, though. Abbi has the girls, so they’re safe. They were scared but fine. I don’t know anything about the car yet.”

She shrugged, as a nurse came in to take my vitals again. “Don’t worry about the car, just worry about you and the girls. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse than it could’ve been.”

I would’ve nodded, but they had me immobilized, so I settled for squeezing her hand instead. It wasn’t much, but it got the word across. Now, we just had to wait for the doctor. I know I’ll be seen faster than most patients, but I’ll still have a bit of a wait on my hands. Looking over at Randi, she smiled, some of her worry easing when she realized this was a precaution and nothing more. I got a text from Abbi that the girls were at home, enjoying a snack and calming down. I know this accident could’ve been a lot worse and I was glad we were all going to be okay.

***

I hate pain medication, even though I know it’s a necessary evil right now. I have a mild case of whiplash, so no bracing required and after a week, I’m released to my chiropractor. In the mean time, I’m off work for a week, I have to ice it and I have to take the pain pills as directed. The girls are still a little shaken up, but Abbi did a great job calming them down and she even made us supper. Thankfully, Randi was already scheduled off tomorrow, so my first day after the accident (when I’ll be really feeling it) will be covered. Normally, we’d just have dad help out but I don’t even know if I’m speaking to my dad right now. I should call him about this, but I don’t want to worry him, especially since it was a minor accident in the grand scheme of life.

“You should call your dad, Cilla,” Randi said that night as we got ready for bed. I was rubbing pain relief cream into my neck so I could sleep (the pills help, but not enough right now), and I slowly turned my head to look at her. “I know you had a fight with him, but he deserves to know about this, no matter how minor it was. I think you guys can patch things up and I’m sure he feels terrible for what happened.”

I shrugged, wincing, then sighed. “I know. But it’s just…he fought with Eliza, but he didn’t need to drag me into it, too. The girls were so disappointed, Randi, you have no idea. We’d arranged for me to have the day off so we could all spend the afternoon together and then he pouts on his little fucking raft in the ocean. I don’t know if this is a sign that his memory problems are getting worse or what.”

Randi massaged by shoulders a bit once I had laid down and I listened as she sighed. Normally, we’re into massage as a form of foreplay but not tonight; tonight, I just wanted a massage.

“It might well be. You and I both know that the progression of this disease is different for everyone. With your dad, it seems to be manifesting itself where he forgets about food in the fridge, forgets his meds, forgets things, fights with you guys. Where can the doctor go with his medications?”

I was finally starting to relax, feeling the knots in my back work themselves out under Randi’s expert hands and the warming massage oil. “I don’t know. The last time he had a checkup, it sounded like the dose had been maxed and the doctor didn’t really think anything else would work. There are new meds, but it sounds like they’re more of the same, just a bit stronger. If this one is failing, it’s unlikely that a new stronger med is going to do anything at all.”

Randi continued to work out my shoulders (there’s not much she can do for my neck, sadly), but I heard her nose of agreement. Closing my eyes, I let myself drift to sleep, hoping tomorrow would be the clichéd better day. The problem is that my dad can hold onto anger for a long time…and I’m not sure he’s going to come around for a while.

***

The next morning I was definitely feeling the accident. I didn’t realize I could hurt in so many places and for once, I welcomed the pain pills. I took one with breakfast and was pretty useless all day, but Randi understood. I was on the couch or in bed most of the day and she did a fantastic job getting the girls off to school and taking care of me. It’s the medic in us, I suppose; we’re trained for this stuff, whether we admit it or not.

I was napping just after dinner when the doorbell startled me. I started to sit up, only to hear Randi yell that she’d get it. I was rested and the pain pill seemed to be working, so I finished sitting up anyway and waited to see who are visitor was.

“Cilla? You’ve got company. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”

I nodded, leaning back against the arm of the couch, only to look up and see my dad. His eyes were red and puffy and I felt bad for being mad at him. I hadn’t even told him about the accident yet.

“I wanted to apologize for yesterday,” he said, reaching for a tissue. He’s always been an emotional guy but now it’s worse, I suppose. “I shouldn’t have have been so surly and I didn’t mean to disappoint my granddaughters. I heard about your accident through a friend; I’m glad it wasn’t worse.”

Of course, I would forget that dad has friends in the medical field still and of course they all talk. I suppose I was glad he found out, but I’d rather he’d heard it from me or Randi.

“I’m sorry for not calling,” I said, in a small voice. I felt like a kid again, getting punished for something. Dad sat down next to me and I scooted closer to him. “I’m sorry for yesterday.”

He nodded, carefully putting an arm around my shoulders. Randi brought me a pain pill and then disappeared once again. The girls would be getting out of school in another hour or so and I was ready to have them home.

“When will the girls get home?” dad asked, and I knew the apologies were accepted without words.

“About an hour. The bus drops them off around 1545,” I responded, yawning a bit. I know I’ll feel better as the days go on, but I really hurt today.

“Can I make it up to you guys on the ice cream? I know you don’t feel well, so I could go get it and bring it all back?”

I smiled, looking over at dad; he’d relaxed a bit. “We can go out. I find out if I move around a little, I feel better. I’ll just rest until it’s time to go for our treat. We’re supposed to hear from insurance today as well.”

He nodded, removing his arm and leaning back against the blue couch. “Where is the car?”

“At the body shop. A friend’s husband runs the place and he said he’d call by the end of the day and let me know how bad the damage is. On first look he said it didn’t look too bad, but that would be up to insurance.”

“At least no one was badly hurt. I know you’re in pain today, but it will get better. If it gets that bad, go in for a pain shot.”

“I will,” I promised him, hugging him impulsively. “And I meant my apology.”

“I meant mine, too. I’m going to have Val take me back to my memory doctor in a couple of days and see what’s going on. If it’s the medication, we might be done, but if there’s something else to it, we might be able to do something about it. I’ll let you know.”

I smiled, slowly leaning my head on his shoulder, as I heard a camera click. We both flipped my wife off, as we laughed. It was nice to know that our family could get along even after a petty fight.

19

I made my peace with Priscilla and now it was time to speak to Eliza. She’d carried the biggest grudge against me and I don’t know how to remedy things with her. So far, in the week since we’d fought, she’s ignored every attempt I’ve made to apologize to her. I know I let her down, but I don’t know how to tell her I’m sorry if she won’t speak to me. Clayton has tried to help me, but it has been to no avail.

“Jack, why did you have to go? If you were still here, none of this would’ve happened. The girls and I wouldn’t have fought, Eliza would still be speaking to me. I don’t even know what’s going on with Corey. I know that, in the weeks after your death, he got a short reprieve from his punishment, and then it all started up again about a month later. But I don’t know if he’s better or if he’s worse or what. I don’t know what’s going on with her, Jack. She won’t speak to me, I haven’t seen the grandkids in a week and I know it’s my fault.”

I sighed, sitting on the couch, staring at a picture of Jacoby on my computer. It might seem weird to speak to a picture, but who else was there? Truthfully, I haven’t seen much of anyone in the last week. Val got me an appointment with my memory doctor and we’re doing that this afternoon, but everyone’s been so busy working that there just hasn’t been time to get together.

Sighing again, I rubbed my face, and looked again at my computer. There was a new message now and I checked it; Val was on her way. I have no idea what the doctor can do, but hopefully, he has some answers. I’m not ready to succumb to dementia yet, even if it is of my own doing. I guess, when you’re a teenager, you don’t think about the consequences of your actions.

I jumped when a horn honked, then made my way to Val’s car. Abba was my clingy kitty and I frowned as she started crying when I locked the door; I think something is wrong, but I don’t know what. Once I was settled into the front seat, Val smiled.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her smile fading.

“Abba was crying when I left,” I told her, sighing. “I’m taking her to the vet tomorrow to see what’s wrong. When our cats in the past have done that, it was related to a UTI usually, which is treatable, thankfully. That and Eliza still won’t speak to me. I know I made her mad, but I thought she’d come around by now. It’s been a week!”

Val patted my hand, moving into the flow of traffic on PCH. I hate going into Los Angeles, but my doctor won’t be up here for another month, so we have to do it. The traffic up there still sucks, though, so we’re leaving two hours early as a precaution.

“I’m sure she’ll come around, Jimmy. Matt said he’s been talking to her at the shop and she’s regretful of her words. It sounds like she just doesn’t know how to come around to you, if that makes any sense. She knows she’s let it go on too long, but she doesn’t know how to fix anything. Perhaps going to the house will help?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, but I’ve already tried that three times and she didn’t respond. I just don’t know what to do,” I admitted, rubbing my face. I’ve become more emotional since Jack’s passing and it started to show. “I just keep thinking that, if Jack hadn’t died, none of this would have happened, you know? If he’d have stuck around, maybe things would be better. But he died and now the family is falling apart.”

Val rubbed my shoulder as she got onto the interstate for L.A. “Jimmy, it might not have helped anything, either. I can’t imagine what you’re going through and I would never say I understood. But remember that everyone is still hurting and your kids are really hurting. I know that you’re doing your best but just remember that the girls are doing their best as well.”

I wiped my eyes, reaching for a tissue she had handy. “I just—the night before he had the heart attack, we were doing a lot of upkeep on the house, you know? When we were done with cleaning gutters and sealing the deck and cleaning the pool, we had burgers and fries for supper. Then, we went for a walk, and then we…well…you know…had sex. He was feeling fine, just tired but I was tired, too. He just forgot to get his meds on time that morning, you know? But he got them and then he fucking died, Val. I don’t understand what I did wrong. His doctor said he had some reflux and whatnot, but his heart was fine. He had all the tests and everything was fucking fine! What did we do wrong?”

I was hyperventilating a bit and I was grateful for the light traffic, as Val pulled onto the shoulder, calling to me to calm down and breathe. It took a moment, but I finally drew in a deep breath and wiped my face, looking out the window. Heavy, black clouds blanketed the sky and they matched my mood.

“Why did he die, Val, why? Why did my Jack have to die? Who did I piss off? I don’t even believe in God, you know? I don’t believe in any of that stuff, but did I have bad Karma? I really want to know why he died, Val. Why did he die? What did we do wrong? Should I have told him not to clean the gutters? Made him rest? Asked more questions of the doctor? Made him go more often? What did I do wrong?”

I leaned into my friend, sobbing, as she rubbed my back. I knew she didn’t have the answers; no one did. But I wanted answers, as the first fat raindrops fell; if there was an afterlife, it seemed Jacoby was as upset as me. I took another deep breath, leaning back to sit right, and wiped my face.

“I don’t have the answers, Jimmy, and I wish I did,” she told me, pulling back into traffic; we were nearly to LA. “And I don’t want to say something cliché about his time and such. But just know that he’s still watching out for you. I know we have different beliefs, but I truly believe in guardian angels, Jimmy, and I’m certain Jacoby is watching over you and taking care of you. I’m willing to bet he’s just as upset over his passing as you are but he doesn’t have any more answers than the rest of us. But I believe he’s watching over you, Jimmy, I really do. I don’t know what to tell you about why he had to go, but we have learn to move past the fact that he’s gone. It will come in time, honey, it will. It’s only been two months, and that’s not near enough time for you to begin to heal. It will be months, maybe even years before you’re able to fully heal from this. But we’re always going to be here for you, okay?”

“I know and I appreciate it. It’s just so hard to live without him, you know? I mean, look at what happened the night I forgot my meds, Val. I know that Katie is moving in come the New Year, but that’s a couple of months off yet. It’s just me and two cats, and that’s it. I know people are coming in to check on me and stuff, but it’s still going to be a while before I have a helper at home full time. I don’t want to give up the house and I don’t want a stranger coming in to take care of me. But I need to do something, Val, because I’m going crazy without my lifelong best friend.”

Val was quiet for a moment I wondered if I’d said too much. Then she took my hand again, as she moved around a slower truck and sighed.

“I know, Jimmy. We all feared the day Jacoby left us, simply because we know how close you two were. And believe me, if there was anything I could do, I’d do it. Hell, I’d bring him back if I could, but I can’t; this isn’t a Hollywood science fiction movie. The best I can do is be there for my best friend and support him as much as possible. Just remember to talk to us, okay? I know we’re not Jacoby, but if you want us to come into the house sometimes and check on you and stuff, we will. We’d rather do it for you than have a stranger come in. And when we get back to Huntington, we’re going together to talk to Eliza, okay?”

I nodded, as the outskirts of L.A. started coming into view. I was nervous about my appointment, but nothing compared to the nerves I felt when it came to dealing with my daughter.

***

The trip back to Huntington seemed to fly by in no time. I’d spent two hours getting poked, prodded, tested and I was tired. But the doctor had confirmed what I’d thought: the medication was losing steam, so to speak. And in the five years I’ve been on it, no one has a cure or a pill to reverse the effects, though both are in the works. He upped the dose for the last time but said this was only a stop-gap measure; in a few years, maybe months, it would stop working all together.

Now, we were standing outside Eliza’s house, waiting for her to answer her door. Normally, I’d just walk right in, but I didn’t know if I was welcome right now or not. The front yard was tidy with her flower gardens in their final blooms. She’d gotten the gardening gene from me and Jacoby and it showed.

“Dad.”

I nodded, as my daughter let us in. She must have today off, considering it’s early afternoon and she doesn’t usually take lunch this late.

“I’m on a late lunch today, so I’ve got to head back at two. I had to take Rhi to the eye doctor for new glasses.”

I nodded again, unsure what to say. Instead, I tried my same tactic: “I’m sorry, Eliza. I don’t know what else to say, other than I’m sorry.”

She nodded, as she put her dishes in the dishwasher, wiped down the table and counter and put the leftovers away. These were all things she did when she was thinking or trying to avoid a situation.

“I’m sorry, too,” she finally said, her voice cracking a bit. “I’ve been under a lot of stress since returning to work and I should’ve have let this go on like I have.”

I moved forward to embrace my daughter, something we’d done for years as a way of saying it was all forgiven. When we parted, she sighed, running a tattooed hand through her short red hair.

“Corey’s in trouble again, dad. I should’ve kept you up to date, but I thought you had enough to worry about. He got caught with weed at school and got suspended. He’s back now, but he’s in a lot of trouble here, too. He’s still grounded, this was a week ago, and he’s not allowed in his room alone anymore, except to sleep. We took his dresser and stuff out, anywhere he could hide the stuff. I know he’ll still find a place, but his room is empty but for the bed right now. I check his room three times daily, plus his bag. He’s not getting a car right now, either. I’ve got dad’s truck for him, and that’s in the garage. Clayton and I drive it from time to time. But Corey’s still in driver’s ed, since that’s important. I just told him no truck.”

“Oh Liza, you should’ve told me,” I told her, feeling those emotions bubble up again. “I could’ve helped you in some way.”

She nodded, glancing at the clock; it was time for her to go. “I’ll call you after work, dad, okay? I have to get back. Corey’s going to a friend’s house after school, one I know I can trust instead of his choice, of course. But maybe I’ll bring him over with the girls. I love you.”

I nodded, holding her again for a moment. “I love you, too.”

Val and I left, my head hung low. We’d somewhat resolved what was going on, but I felt it was too easy. I felt like she spoke to me because Val was there and she knows Val wouldn’t let things rest. I was nervous now for how things would go at the house, but at least they were considering a visit. I missed my daughter and grandchildren, and I wanted them in my life once again. If nothing else, she deserved to know what was going on with my memory.

“Thanks for today,” I said, as I got out of Val’s car. Abba was perched in the window and I frowned; something is definitely wrong. “I’ll let you know how Eliza’s visit goes.”

“Take care, Jim,” she said, leaving the driveway once I was inside.

Abba accosted me at the door, crying loudly as soon as I came in. I picked her up, wondering what was wrong. She didn’t look sick, as she squirmed to be let down. Following her, I walked through the house, upstairs and into our bedroom. There, Clancy was sleeping on the bed, and Abba nuzzled him. When he didn’t move, I sighed.

“At seven, Clancy?” I asked, taking the still-warm cat into my arms. He wasn’t breathing and I knew he was already gone. He was on medication for a UTI, but apparently, it got the better of him. “Well, Abba, come on.”

There’s a little cat graveyard in the backyard, down near the beach. I have it fenced off and Clancy will join Eleanor and Oliver in his eternal rest. In some ways, I envied him, but have decided that I’m just not ready to go yet. I had a dream the other night with Jacoby and he told me that, while the afterlife is fun, he’s not ready for me to be there yet; it’s not my time. I don’t believe all that cliché stuff, but it seemed to make him happy and that’s what counts, I guess.

“Oh Clancy,” I said, lowering him to the grass. I grabbed a shovel and carefully dug a hole, placing him then in a small box. Dad somehow managed to keep his cats thin and I never did figure out how. “I love you, Clancy. Now you can run with dad, how does that sound? And say hi to Jacoby for me, okay? And all my kitties.”

With that, I closed the box, then put the dirt over him. When I’d stood there a moment, I went in to wash my hands, then texted my sister Kelly. She made headstones for pets and assured me I’d have one in a couple of days.

“What should we do, Abba?” I asked, noting that she was already calming down. Clearly, she’d known her brother was about to go and I should’ve investigated earlier. I know I couldn’t have saved him, but he might not have been alone. “You know, it won’t be long, and I probably won’t remember you. That scares me a bit, thinking my memory is going. In the mean time, we have to live with what we’ve got, don’t we? Maybe we’ll get you another kitty companion soon. I think Katie’s cat is about to have kittens and by the time they’re ready for adoption, we should be ready for a new cat, don’t you think?”

Abba simply nudged my hand, and I picked her up, nuzzling her to my chest. I couldn’t imagine life not knowing who anyone was, Abba included. The thought scared me and I knew I had to somehow prepare myself for the inevitable.

20

I love my children. I love my children. They aren’t driving me nearly as nuts as I think. I love my children. Between Corey’s drug problem and Rhiannon’s recent fascination with beauty, I think I’m going to go insane. Marianna is a calm port in the storm, but at seven, she’s a bit young to have these sorts of problems.

I know you’re wondering why Rhi’s such a problem. It’s because we set a strict rule about makeup and other girly things when she was born. No styling machines, no makeup until she’s eighteen. I know that seems harsh, but it’s what my parents did and it saved me so much grief growing up. We don’t care if she’s a girly girl or not, but we’re not bending the rules. Today after school, as I’m trying to get the kids ready to go see dad and see if we can work out our problems, the fights started before we were even out the door.

“Corey, get down here!” I called from the bottom of the stairs. He hates his empty room with no door, but I told him that’s how it had to be. We can’t trust him and that hurts me to no end. “It’s time to go!”

I shook my head as he finally thundered down the stairs, waiting by the door for me to get Mari and Rhi going. Mari ran out of the downstairs bathroom and got her shoes on, joining her brother. Rhi was the only one we were waiting on.

“Rhiannon Maria Smithland! Now!” I hollered, wishing she’d hurry up. “Let’s go!”

“I’m busy! Give me a minute!” she shouted and I had had enough.

I made my way upstairs, knocking on the bathroom door. She had locked it and I demanded she open it.

“I’m busy mom! Can’t I have any privacy in the bathroom?”

“It’s time to get going. Is your stomach bothering or something?” She’s had a touchy tummy off and on growing up and I could forgive that.

“No, I’m just using the bathroom. I’ll be out in a minute!”

“Hurry it up!”

This is not going to go well if I go into this meeting already upset. I’d really prefer to leave the kids home, but I don’t want them alone for that long. There’s a good chance this will take a while and Clayton’s working late tonight to edit some photos. Therefore, the kids were coming with and I was shipping them straight to the backyard.

“Finally,” I muttered, as Rhi came downstairs. I blinked, then, as I got a good look at her. “Are you wearing makeup?”

She shook her head, trying to slink past me, but I caught her arm and looked more closely at her face. Taking a swipe at her cheek, my finger came away with foundation and blush and I frowned. She looked a little scared right now and I was becoming angry.

“How many times have we told you, Rhi? Huh? No makeup until you’re 18. That’s the rule and that’s what the rule is going to continue to be. It’s the rule for Mari as well. And those curls…I know you didn’t use curlers to achieve those. When we get home, we’re going through your guy’s bathroom and getting rid of everything, do you understand?”

She nodded, as we headed for the car. As soon as I started driving, I heard a click and watched her fix her makeup with a compact; she was going to be in some serious trouble later. Corey just got done being grounded, and I wasn’t about to have my daughter worrying over her appearance at this age.

“What’s the big deal about makeup?” Rhi asked, as I turned onto dad’s street. We’re just far enough away that walking would be a bit much. “Several girls at school wear makeup.”

“We’re not talking about it right now,” I told her, pulling into dad’s driveway. His truck must be in the garage, so he’s in for the night. “Now, I need to talk to grandpa in private, so you guys would do well to make tracks for the backyard. Don’t go into the pool or the ocean until we come out.”

Naturally, all of the grandkids had swimsuits at dad’s and it paid off. There was, however, the ‘no swimming without adult supervision’ rule, enacted after Ava nearly drowned one day when she was three. Once we’d all piled out, the kids ran around to the fence and went right into the backyard. I’d have to tell them how rude it was not to come in and say hi, at least.

“Dad?” I called, as I moved through the house; something was off and I didn’t like it. “Dad?”

“Coming!”

He smiled when he saw me, as he came down the stairs, an empty laundry basket in his hands. I hugged him and then waited for him in the kitchen, getting the cheese, crackers, and water pitcher.

“Must be a serious talk,” he noted, sitting across from me. His face was set in a frown and I knew it had to do with me being in dad’s seat; but it was easier this way. “Makes me think of how many hours your dad and I spent at this table talking about serious things. Before we start, may I update you on my memory?”

I nodded, as I sliced some cheese for us. “What did the doctor say?”

“What I figured: the medication is slowing, so the disease is progressing. He upped the dose one last time, as a higher dose has come out in the last five years. But this is it, Liza, after this, it’s going to run its course. I start the higher dose tonight at bedtime, but I don’t know if I’ll notice anything different. I’ve already called Priscilla and talked to her. She was upset, but it was understandable.”

And now fighting with my dad ate me up more than it already was; in a few years, he might not even remember me. I sighed, making a sandwich, wondering if it was worth bringing this up after all this time.

“Dad, I’m sorry about our fight. It was childish of me and worse that I kept quiet for so long. I am truly sorry.”

He smiled a watery smile, making a sandwich. “Apology accepted. I know things are stressful with Corey right now.”

“They are. He’s done being grounded right now, but he’s not done being punished. I don’t know what to do about him, so we’re looking for a child counselor. If that doesn’t work, we’re going to look at boarding schools. And now Rhi thinks she can wear makeup and have hair styling tools; she knows the rule is nothing until she’s 18.”

“Is it worth fighting?” dad asked and I blinked, as we watched the kids play on the swingset I’d had as a kid. “I understand the rule, but is it worth fighting? Perhaps she doesn’t need it now, when she’s 12, but what about thirteen? Your dad and I tried that with you, saying no makeup and stuff until you were 18; you wore it anyway. You’d put it on at school and wash it off before you got home, but you forgot one day. I was so mad and then Jacoby asked me if it was worth fighting. I decided it wasn’t. I understand your anger, because she’s growing up so fast and all, but some battles are not worth fighting.”

I paused to think about that, taking my time to finish my first sandwich. Maybe dad was right, considering he’d been where I am now. Clayton and I agreed we wouldn’t fight tattoos and stuff (that’d be a little hypocritical) but we always felt makeup was worth fighting; maybe it’s not.

“Maybe it’s not worth fighting. I guess it’s just one more thing, you know? First we have Corey’s apparent drug problem, now my daughter wants makeup at 12…I can’t take much more. But maybe you’re right about some battles. Honestly, I’m more concerned about Corey than the makeup. It’s just that the rule is what it is, you know? Won’t I look bad if I change it?”

Dad shook his head, making another sandwich. I’m glad we have such a high metabolism in this family. When he’d finished eating, he leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth.

“No, you won’t. Right now, you look irrational to your daughter. Changing the rule doesn’t mean you’re giving in, it means you’re giving her a chance to prove she can handle what she wants. If she can’t handle it, then you change the rule back. You proved you could handle it at 13 and it didn’t change you one bit. In fact, after a couple of years, you decided you hated it and never wore makeup again. I have a feeling, knowing that Rhi is just like you, she’ll give this up after a spell as well. She might surprise us, but somehow, I doubt it.”

I nodded, watching as my daredevil kids jumped from the swings, laughing. “You might be onto something there, dad. I guess Clayton and I just always felt we’d be steadfast in our decisions, you know? It seems like the wrong thing to change our minds, but yet, I can see where you’re coming from. I remember you guys changing some rules for us when we were younger and at the time, it seemed like you guys were wishy-washy; looking back, it makes a lot of sense. I’ll talk to her tonight.”

Dad nodded, making another sandwich. The cheese I’d cut was almost gone, but it seemed we didn’t need any more food; we were sated for now.

“I should tell you that Clancy passed this morning,” dad said and I frowned; I liked Clancy. “I think the UTI got him, which is odd. But I didn’t worry about an autopsy. It explained Abba’s erratic behavior, so I cancelled the vet appointment. It’s strange without him around.”

I was about to answer when dad’s phone rang, and he frowned. It’s rare that dad doesn’t want to speak to someone, so I wonder what’s up. I waited while he spoke to whomever it was, watching the kids out the window. They seemed to be playing just fine together and I see the little girl next door has joined them now. Her folks were killed in a car accident a year ago and her grandparents are raising her. A choked noise from dad returned my attention to him, as he closed his phone.

“That-that was Katie,” he said and I felt my heart sink. “She’s at the nursing home right now. Myles has just passed away. He had another massive stroke and the ambulance crew couldn’t revive him.”

I hurried to my dad and hugged him, knowing he and Myles had been close over the years. The first stroke had hit dad hard and I know my uncle’s death will do the same. I worry about Katie, too, as she spends every day with her husband, arriving in time for breakfast at eight and leaving only to check on dad in the afternoon, finally returning home for supper and some sleep before she goes back.

“She’s asking me to join her at the nursing home,” he said, pocketing his phone. “Sorry to run.”

“Go, be with Katie,” I told him, giving him one more hug. “I’ll lock up and get the kids home. Call if you need us, okay?”

He nodded, already out the door, his face a mask of sadness. I worry about him now, wondering how this latest slap in the face from life is going to affect him. His psyche can only take so much and if his memory is starting to get worse again, what’s this going to do to him?

Shaking my head, I gathered my purse and keys, then called to the kids. They deserved to know about Myles, of course, and it’s this that puts things in perspective once again for me and makes me realize dad was right: some battles are not worth fighting.

“Did you and grandpa talk?” Rhi asked, and I nodded, sighing. I knew we still had to talk, but it could wait until we got home. “What’s wrong, then?”

I backed out of the driveway, making sure my phone was on. “Your great-uncle Myles passed away a few minutes ago.”

There was a heavy silence in the car, as Corey and Rhi knew him the best. I think, for the first time in a few years, I saw my son cry. He and Myles spent time together before the massive stroke, working on various hobbies. Myles was always an avid guitar player and gave Corey lessons until he could no longer play.

“Your grandpa is helping Katie right now and he’ll let us know when we’re needed. There’s not much we can do right now.”

“Can we go see Katie?” Rhi asked, as I pulled into our driveway. I thought about it, not sure now was the time. “Or should we wait?”

I texted dad, apologized for interrupting, and explained what the kids wanted. He told us to come to the nursing home and I said we’d be down soon.

“Grandpa says to come down. So, let’s go, guys.”

The car was silent, even though I’m sure Marianna was confused. She didn’t know Myles as well as my older kids did. They’d be more heartbroken, I think, than their younger sister. Priscilla called just as we pulled into the nursing home parking lot and I confirmed the news.

“We’ll be down soon. Randi and I got off early today, so we’ll shower and be right down,” she said, her voice cracking. You know you’re close to family, but their death really drives it home.

I held hands with Mari as we walked into the home. It was a comfortable place, as nursing homes have come a long way over the years. But there was a sense of doom hanging over the entrance and I knew that death still could not be defeated.

“Thanks for coming,” Katie said, hugging me right. She had tears rolling down her face and I was reminded that no matter if you’re a nurse or not, prepared for the death or not, it’s never easy.

“Of course,” I told her, holding her for a moment. We stepped back and I saw dad coming out of the room; no doubt, the funeral home had arrived. “If you need anything, let us know, okay?”

She nodded, as the kids gave her hugs as well. Life goes on in the face of death and it seems unfair. In some ways, this is a blessing for Myles; he’d suffered a lot since the first stroke. But it’s also unfair, considering Katie has to live without him now for the remainder of her days. Somehow, I hoped she and dad would become even closer in the face of this recent loss.

21

Myles’s funeral was just what he’d have wanted, I’m fairly sure. It was small, short, and non-denominational, again, very fitting for the man. Katie held up well after the initial shock wore off, but I told her to be sure she keeps up with people, because that shock comes back double time after the first couple of months.

If it wasn’t for the fact that her son is moving back to buy the house from her, she’d put it up for sale right now, she told me. I told her to talk to her son and see if he wanted to come early, if his job could transfer him sooner. She said she’d already spoken to Jensen and his job transfer had to wait until the end of the year. Apparently, though, his wife had already interviewed and been hired at UCI hospital (she’s a physician’s assistant) and was considering moving in now, getting the house set up, and all that stuff. The kids would probably stay with Jensen until he moved, but it was something to consider.

Coming home after the funeral, I was once again struck by how empty the house was. Abba greeted me at the door, winding around my legs and I sighed, bending to pick up the young cat. I nuzzled her fur, blinking back a few tears; everyone seemed to be dying on me lately. When I still worked in the hospital, we always said these things happened in threes, so maybe things are done for a while. I lost Jacoby in August, Myles and Clancy now in October; there can’t be anyone else left, can there?

“Oh Abba,” I sighed, sinking into my recliner. I haven’t re-done anything in this room. There’s a lamp table next to me and then Jacoby’s recliner next to that; I can’t part with anything. “This has to be it for a while, doesn’t it?”

She simply purred and snuggled down into my lap a bit more, as I petted her. She’s brought me a lot of comfort over the last couple of months. I see now why dad said she was the most affectionate cat he’d ever met; she was almost human in some ways.

I don’t remember falling asleep, but I was startled by the doorbell and so was Abba. She meowed angrily as she jumped down, getting to the door a few steps ahead of me. I looked through the window, concerned when a police officer stood there; was Corey in trouble?

“Good afternoon, officer,” I said, realizing I was still in my suit from the funeral; Katie had wanted some time alone with the kids afterwards. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a Mr. Jacoby Shaddix?” he asked and I frowned, reminding myself that he would have no idea my husband was dead.

“He passed away in August, I’m afraid; is there something I can help you with?” I asked, biting my lower lip. Had Jacoby done something before he passed? I took a deep breath to calm myself, since I didn’t want to cry in front of the officer.

“Perhaps. We’ve had a developer working to build on a site on the eastern edge of Huntington Beach. Of course, the land was surveyed and marked before building began, but while digging for the first foundations, some remains were discovered.”

I nodded, content that Jacoby was buried in Iowa, safe and sound. “I see. How does this relate to my late husband?”

The officer handed me a piece of paper and put on a sympathetic look. “We’ve had the remains identified. According to the state coroner, the remains are about ten years old, male, and belong to a Mr. Kenneth Shaddix.”

Well, that’s a surprise. “Jacoby and his father were estranged, officer. I’m honestly not certain how you figured out it was his father. Are you sure it’s his father?”

The officer nodded, indicating the paper in my hand. “The state had DNA on hand from both your husband and Kenneth. There are any number of reasons for these records but it helped them identify the remains and match them with family. Do you have any specific requests for the remains?”

As I didn’t know Jacoby’s dad I shrugged. “I suppose whatever it is you do with them. His dad wasn’t in his life and he rarely spoke of the man. I don’t really care what happens to him, I guess, so long as it’s nothing bad. I’ll leave it to the state, but I’m not paying for anything. He ditched his family when Jacoby was quite young and was never heard from again; he’s certainly not part of this family.”

“Very well, sir. Sorry to have disturbed you. Have a good day.”

The young, dark haired man left clearly glad to be relieved of his duty, leaving me with questions. I knew we both had DNA on file with the crime lab, because we’d been called a few times to get a victim from a crime scene and we had to make sure we were ruled out as suspects. It was no big deal to us, though it seemed odd at the time. The main question was how in the world his dad got to HB. It’s not unheard of, of course, considering the man was never in Jacoby’s life. How he ended up dead is a mystery as well but I simply don’t care. As long as the state disposes of him respectfully, I don’t care what happens.

“Jack, this would’ve made you laugh,” I told him, unfolding the paper. The information was somewhat dull, mostly the results of DNA testing and where he was found. Cause of death was apparently unable to be determined, which if he’s naught but bones, I suppose is normal. “Your dad ends up dead in HB in some long forgotten lot, only to be found by a developer ten years later. Oh well. You never cared and neither do I.”

Shaking my head, I put the paper in a safe, figuring I might as well hang onto it. Abba moved to her little cat bed and I decided I wanted to change. Katie had promised me she’d call when the kids left, which wouldn’t be for a few more days. Jensen had a job in the music industry, and had told me they had a week off for the loss of their dad. Mariah was just in Los Angeles, and I told her we needed to do lunch sometime soon.

“Abba, I’ll be in the pool, okay?” I told her a few minutes later.

She rolled over in her sleep and I smiled. I wish I was a cat, to be honest. After the application of some sunscreen, I slid into the cool, clear water of the pool. Jacoby and I used to spend hours in this thing, making out, having sex, or just relaxing. Sitting in the shallow end, I imagined I could see Jacoby sitting next to me, holding me.

“Why do people have to die?” I asked no one, rubbing my face. I ducked under to wet my hair, then smoothed it back when I surfaced. “It’s not fair.”

“That’s life.”

I hadn’t expected an answer, as I looked around for the source of the voice. Johnny was standing near the pool, stripping down to his trunks and he slid in next to me, perching on the edge of the pool, his short legs dangling in the water.

“It’s still not fair.”

Johnny nodded, splashing the water a bit with his foot. “And what of it? Life’s never fair.”

I wanted to slap him for that, but I couldn’t because he was right. Life isn’t fair, but that doesn’t take away the pain I’m feeling right now. The loss of my husband and then my brother-in-law still hurt, the loss of Clancy still hurt; four years on, the loss of my dad still hurt, five years for my mom.

“That may be, Johnny, but the pain never ends,” I told him, sliding down into the water a bit. “It still hurts thirty five years after losing Penny. After Jack passed, that night replayed in my head over and over, Johnny. Losing dad, losing mom, losing Jeanette, it all replayed in my head for several days. And it all still hurts, no matter if it’s been two months or thirty five years. I want them all back, but I can’t have them all back. I want to go back to the days on the farm, with Hank and Eleanor just up the gravel, then Tony and Annie. I want to go back to work at Creighton and have Sean and Sean P. and everyone there around me. I wouldn’t trade my time here for the world, Johnny, but I want those days back.”

“I know,” he whispered and I watched him, as he looked into the sun, the bright light glinting off his shades. “I lost my dad six years ago, remember? Mom’s gone even if she’s still alive. She doesn’t know who anyone is, so it’s just a matter of waiting for her to die. I know the pain, Jimmy, in my own way. But you can’t let it eat you alive. I know it’s only been two months, but you can’t let the pain eat at you.”

I nodded, as he finally slid into the water with me. I watched Lacey come through the door, ready for a swim; how did they know I’d be out here? I was glad for their companionship, though, even if I just wanted to be alone. Sighing, I dunked myself again, before I swam a lap, wishing my heart would just give out so Jack and I could be together again.

***

The days after Myles passed seemed to fly by. Before I knew it, we were into November and I was making plans to host Thanksgiving. I had only a few days before the big event and the turkeys (I need at least three to feed this crowd), were thawing in the fridge. For now, things are under control as far as my memory, and we’ll take this larger dose of meds as long as it works.

“Jimmy?”

I waved Matt in, wiping at my nose. I haven’t had a bad cold in a couple of years and I hadn’t missed them. The doctors in Iowa were right about the weather: it did help me keep from getting sick all the time and I was glad for it. But we were having a cold November, which was unusual and as soon as it got cold, I got sick.

“You okay?”

I put my nebulizer away and shook my head, coughing. I still get a flu and pneumonia shot every winter and I was two weeks out from both, so I should be covered. Panting a bit, I caught my breath, looking over at my worried friend.

“Just a cold,” I croaked, realizing that my voice was almost gone. “I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense. You’ve got a party to host on Thursday and I want you well. Come on, let’s see if your doctor will see you.”

I had no air or voice to protest, so he called my lung doctor and managed to get me in right away. I didn’t really want to go, but if I get the antibiotic now, I’ll feel better sooner. Matt got my portable oxygen ready to go (have I mentioned that I still need it daily?) and we were out the door. Every few steps I had to stop and breathe, but we managed to get the car in under five minutes.

“You should’ve gone to the doctor the first moment you realized you were getting sick,” Matt admonished me and I nodded, coughing into a tissue. If this isn’t pneumonia, I’ll be surprised. “Either way, at least you’re doing it now, so you’re ready for the holidays. If you need extra help, you holler, and Val and I will be right over.”

I nodded, trying to regain my excitement for Thursday. Normally, I’d just have my kids and my sisters, but this year, I was hosting our friends, too. And the crowd is growing as we all start becoming grandparents. I still don’t have everything ready, but I think the headcount is close to 45.

“I’m going to grab you a wheelchair,” Matt said, pulling into the parking lot. I nodded, because I certainly didn’t have the air to walk. “Wait here.”

An hour later, I was settled into a bed on second floor of Huntington Beach Hospital. The girls had been called and Eliza had come right away; Cilla would come after work. The way things looked right now, I’d probably be in the hospital for Thanksgiving, and that upset me. It was only Monday, but still, the chest x-ray looked bad and my doctor was not happy.

“James.”

I hate it when he calls me James.

“I know that for you, this is nothing, but this is serious business. Lucky for you, antibiotics have come a long way over the years and I can get you on a strong one from the start. But it’s only Monday, and I wouldn’t expect to go home before Friday at the earliest.”

I know my face fell at the news and the doctor frowned. “But I—I’m hosting—close to—50—people—for—Thanksgiving!” I protested in fits and spurts. I was containing my emotions, but barely.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy, but unless the pneumonia clears sufficiently before Wednesday, I’m not letting you out until Friday. I can’t do that with a clear conscience and then have you get sicker or even worse, die. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress in the wake of your husband’s passing and our unseasonably cold air didn’t help, either. But for now, let’s worry about getting you better.”

I nodded, mostly because I didn’t have the air to argue. Eliza took my hand, smoothing her thumb over mine; she’d understand, but she was staying quiet for now. Clearly, she agreed with the doctor and as upset as I was, there was nothing I could about it. I hadn’t missed a holiday in the last five years and now we’d start that damn cycle all over again. If I get pneumonia once, I get it at least twice each winter, no matter what. Ten bucks says I miss Christmas this year, too, just you want and see.

22

“Mom! You never answered me!”

I whirled around, the keys in my hand sailing for the floor, as my blue eyes bored into my oldest daughter. “Ava, I do not have time to answer you right now. My father is in the hospital and I need to get down to HB, do you understand? You will stay here and do all of your homework and if Randi tells me there have been any problems, you will not see the light of day for two fucking weeks!”

Picking up my keys, I slammed the door behind me and got into my car, putting on the angriest song I could find on my MP3 player, blasting it through the car. It was after eight by now and hopefully traffic wouldn’t be too bad. I needed to calm down about Ava before I see dad, because I don’t want to stress him out.

I know I haven’t said much about her, and I do apologize for that. In the wake of the problems with Jimmy, a lot of things got pushed aside and her problems were one of those things. But now that things have calmed a bit, she’s started throwing fits again and her problems are in the forefront of our family fights. Things calmed for a while, after we got her into a different algebra class, but after a couple of weeks, things started up again.

Now, they seemed to be at a crescendo; where before she would at least attempt the homework and tests, now she’s refusing to do anything in class. According to the teacher, her tests are all turned in with doodles on them, all of them depicting what Ava would rather be doing at that moment. We made good on our promise: fail algebra, no new camera, and we stuck to it. Naturally, Ava was one step ahead of us and had saved her allowances for the camera she wanted and got it behind our backs. By the time I found it, there was no point taking it away.

“Oh dad, I need you right now, so bad,” I muttered, getting onto the interstate. We’d decided to leave the girls at home with Randi so we wouldn’t wear dad out. Besides, we’d all be in HB for Thanksgiving, which had now been shifted to Matt and Val’s, and the girls could see him then. “What the fuck possessed you to die?”

I knew there would be no answer and I was right. Of course, if anyone was going to be a spirit, it’d be Jimmy and not Jacoby. I believe strongly in ghosts and spirits, but Jacoby has never once been seen by me or anyone else, even Jimmy. I suppose he’s content in his afterlife and he’s not going to ‘haunt’ us any time soon.

“I just hope dad’s okay,” I muttered, when I pulled into Huntington Beach Hospital’s parking lot half an hour later. “He hates missing holidays.”

I had his room number from Eliza, and I made my way to second floor, wishing things weren’t as bad as they are. I mean, at least he’s not in ICU, I guess, but still. Steeling myself when the elevator doors opened, I headed for room 231 and then pushed the door open. Dad was awake, oxygen hooked up to his nose like it was everyday and he smiled at me.

“Hey,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Sorry to worry you.”

I shook my head, settling beside him, putting my purse on the bench under the window. “Don’t worry, dad. What happened?”

He shrugged, coughing a bit. “I got a cold and it turned into pneumonia,” he explained, his breathing ragged. “I got some weird news a few weeks before this, but I doubt they’re related.”

“What happened?” I asked, concerned; he hadn’t told me anything was wrong.

“We never knew—Jacoby’s dad,” he said, and I nodded, since I already knew that. “Turns out he—died ten—years—ago. His remains were—found—in—a lot—north—of—town—a few weeks—ago.”

That lead him to a coughing fit from hell. I helped him calm down, made sure he spat out the gunk and watched his vitals; it’s in my nature as a medic. When he was calm and could breathe again, I sighed.

“Well, at least we know now, I guess,” I said, though I didn’t really care one way or the other. According to Jacoby, once his parents had divorced his dad was never seen or heard from again. “I’d just put it from your mind.”

Dad nodded, his hands shaking, no doubt from the steroids he was getting. Pneumonia isn’t a death sentence anymore, but it’s still in need of old fashioned treatments, if you will. Antibiotics are also better and this will clear faster than it would’ve ten years ago, but he’s still going to need a few days in the hospital to truly recover.

“How is Ava doing?” Eliza asked, glancing at her phone; she probably had to go soon, as I think she’s been here all day.

“Don’t get me started. In the wake of things lately, she’s been kind of…I don’t want to say ignored, but we’ve not dealt with the math problems she’s been having. They kind of settled down with a new teacher but now she’s upset again. I just don’t know what to do for her. I know she’s not my bio kid, but we’ve never put math down, Randi and I are both good at it, even if we didn’t particularly enjoy the class, so we’re confused.”

“Give her time,” dad advised, yawning. He adjusted a bit in bed, rubbing his eyes. “She’ll come around.”

He drifted to sleep after that, and Eliza and I decided to leave him to rest. I left a note telling him to call us, and since I had the day off tomorrow, I’d come sit with him. He’ll probably tell me to stay home, but oh well.

“If you need any help with Ava, let me know,” Eliza said, hugging me. We’ve never been close, but events of late have brought us a bit closer.

“I will,” I promised, as I got into my car. I have no idea what’s waiting for me at home, but hopefully not another broken window. We drained Ava’s piggy bank to pay for the window she broke, and I didn’t want to do it again. She just babysits and gets an allowance, so how she saved up for that damn camera is still beyond both of us. Dialing Randi on the hands-free, I waited for her to answer. “Hey babe.”

“Hey,” she said, her voice strained. “Ava! Leave Beth alone! Sorry.”

“No problem. I’m on my way home, since dad is sleeping. I’m coming back tomorrow, but he’s doing about as well as can be expected.”

“We’ll talk at home. I hate to run, but I have to break up a verbal fight,” she said, and hung up, leaving me to wonder just how badly I wanted to go home tonight.

***

“What are you going to do about Ava?” dad asked, as we played our third hand of go-fish. It’s his favorite card game, but I've never figured out why.

“I don’t know. Do you have a five?” I asked, and he nodded, handing me the match. “I really don’t know. She needs the algebra to advance to the next grade, and I want her to start junior high on time. But she’s got terrible math skills, refuses to do the tests or homework, etc., and I’m at a loss here.”

Dad nodded, as I looked over my hand, asking for a nine. “Go fish,” he said, coughing. Once he’d cleared the junk, he leaned back against his pillows a bit, looking at his cards. “If I recall correctly, Garrison went through a similar spell. The best you can do is work with her. Do you have an ace?”

I shook my head. “Go fish,” I told him, smiling. His room was a lovely shade of purple, and I liked it. Some hospitals were trying to get away from the white on the adult floors, feeling patients healed faster if they had a nice room to recover in. “That’s what we’ve been doing, dad. We’re about to toss in the towel here.”

He was about to answer when his door opened and a team from x-ray came in. Frowning, he put his cards down, clearly unhappy at this interruption.

“It won’t take long, dad. I’d rather you have another chest x-ray anyway. We can finish the game when you back,” I assured him, secretly thankful for the interruption. “Don’t flirt too much.”

In true dad fashion, he’d been flirting with everyone, which he always did in the hospital. Male, female, didn’t matter, he’d flirt. He didn’t mean anything by it, but he was always cautioned not to overdo it. The staff never complain, but you have to wonder.

While I waited, I took my laptop out and composed an email to Ava’s math teacher. There has got to be a solution to this and now that things with dad have calmed down a little, I can focus on my daughter again. It’s hard sometimes, to split your attention for different important things. When dad was distraught and his memory looked to be going south full speed ahead, I focused on that. When we had our little fight, that was important. But now I have to get back to my daughter and get this resolved. We had a reprieve with the new teacher but before the serious fights get going a second time, I’m going to try nipping this in the bud.

Mrs. Mathison,

I’m emailing you to see if we can set up a conference for Ava Shaddix. She’s having outbursts at home again over her math homework and I need some advice. I want her to pass this class and have explained the importance of math, but she’s resistive. Is there a time that works for you? I am off today, tomorrow, and will be off again Monday of next week.

Thanks,

-Priscilla Shaddix

Her teachers have all been excellent about meeting with us and they seem to genuinely care about her. Hopefully, her teacher can meet with me today or tomorrow to attempt getting some answers.

“Thanks for the ride,” dad said, as he was assisted back into bed. He’s almost seventy and he’s slowing down a little. His joints are stiffer, he needs help now to walk when he’s sick; it’s hard to watch the downfall, considering Jacoby never seemed his age. “Let’s hope there’s some improvement. I wish someone would invent a little vacuum that could go in and take all the infection out without the medication.”

I nodded, simply pleased that he could speak without losing his air more of the time. My phone beeped, and I checked to see that Ava’s teacher had responded. Reading over the form-feeling letter, I noted an appointment time of after school tomorrow, which pleased me.

“Ava’s teacher is going to meet with me tomorrow,” I told my dad, but his snore indicated he’d fallen asleep. Yawning, I realized it was around noon and I was hungry; it was time for lunch. “I’ll be back later this afternoon.”

He shook his head and I waited to see if he was awake or not. “Take a break and come back tomorrow; bring the girls.”

“Okay,” I said, hoping he’d remember his directive tomorrow. His memory could be extra faulty when he was sick, and I didn’t want that to happen after recent events. “Love you, dad.”

“Love you, too,” he responded, then returned to sleep.

Once I was back in my car, my brain turned to the problems with Ava. I know I was a pistol as a kid, but we have no way of really knowing how Ava or Bethany will be. Considering both are adopted, it’s a tossup for us. I mean, I can ask Zach how Garrison was at each age, and I do intend to consult with him, but we don’t know a lot about her birth mom. When the adoption went through, her birth mom wanted nothing doing with her, and only gave us her medical history when our lawyer threatened legal action against her.

With a sigh, I moved into traffic and headed back to Irvine. I would have to see if Zach had the day off or not, though I doubted it. Everyone associated with the tattoo shop put in a lot of hours and dedication ran high. But I could email him and when he had time he’d respond and we could arrange time to meet. It’s not like I had to have special permission to see my uncle. And hopefully, my uncle could shed some light on our current crises; I was about to go insane.

23

I managed to only be in the hospital for six days, which I’m pretty sure is a record for me. The doctor changed a couple of settings on my C-PAP and upped my daily oxygen, but said for now, things were clear. He did say that we’d have to pay closer attention to my memory problems and my breathing but that there was nothing to panic about right now.

Time went by quickly, as November gave way to December and finally January. Katie moved in as planned, just after the New Year and she enjoyed being closer to her grandkids. I felt sluggish through the rest of the winter, but managed only one bad chest cold, which stayed just that for once. With Katie around, meds were never forgotten and that feeling of loneliness began to ease just a bit. I know that I've seemed okay since Jacoby died, but that’s all an act. I can handle the days, but nights are so hard. Jacoby and I had a routine and it’s hard to keep that up with just one person.

I decided, as well, to fully retire, because my memory was getting worse. It’s little things, but as my specialist reminded me in December, little things escalate eventually. For now, I forget unimportant things, like getting in the mail, showering, that sort of stuff. Katie helps with meds and makes sure the things I forget get done; she doesn’t want me to smell, I guess. Well, I thought it was funny.

Anyway, my last day at work was kind of fun. Clayton reserved the whole day for family and friends only, and I got to take family portraits of my girls and their families. I had my picture taken as well with my sisters, my grandkids, my kids and by myself with Abba. A couple of times I swore Jacoby was in the studio with us, but never said anything.

“Okay, Matt, Val and kids!” Clayton called, looking down at a list we had. “We’ll do you guys without the grandkids first and then with, sound good?”

My friends nodded, moving this way and that at Clayton’s instruction so the picture would turn out well. Clayton knows what he’s doing and it’s fun to watch him in action. I loved how happy my friends were after all this time, but I couldn’t help being a little emotional watching them interact with their spouses. After all these years, I never dreamed I’d be the first one to become widowed.

“You okay, dad?” Cilla asked, putting an arm around my waist.

I nodded, wiping at my wet face. “Yeah. It’s just hard, I guess, seeing all of my friends with their spouses. They’ve all aged so well, and the grey hair suites them, but they’re all still alive. You know this was your dad’s favorite time of year? Alise sent me pictures of the farm and spring is arriving early in Iowa this year. Penny’s tree looks amazing and the gardens are just starting to peek the first early buds. Sean planted a tulip garden in Jacoby’s memory and it looks amazing already! He would love it out there, if he was still with us. Even out here, he loved the arrival of spring, you know?”

Cilla nodded, squeezing me for a moment. She’s only 35 but she looks young, still; hopefully she ages gracefully. I know there’s a lot of stress in her family but she handles it so well.

“Our turn!”

I had to smile, as Matt and Val’s grandkids ran into the studio, their frazzled Aunt Amy (Matt’s sister) behind them, shaking her head. Each child had been groomed and quaffed to look nice for the pictures, and not a speck of dirt remained on them. All three of them worked their way in between their grandparents putting on their best smiles. Little Greggory, at two, was the spitting image of his grandfather.

“It’s fun to watch the next generation,” Zach quipped, handing me coffee. Our long day was almost over and then I’d be forever retired. “We’ve raised some pretty amazing kids.”

I nodded, sipping at the bitter, dark beverage. “I agree. And now we’ve got amazing grandkids as well. Did you ever get to talk to Cilla about Ava?”

Zach nodded, giving me a look for a moment; I must’ve forgotten something. “Yeah, a couple of months ago. She’s coming over for homework help twice a week and it’s really made a difference. She still hates math and wants out of it, but she’s not shattering windows with her math book anymore.”

“I remember now, sorry,” I told him, but he waved my concerns off. “It’s getting worse, Z.”

“Your memory?” he asked, his piercing green eyes looking at me. I nodded. “Is Katie able to help?”

“She is,” I nodded, sipping at my beverage as Brian and Michelle took their turn. No grandkids for them yet, but their kids are still somewhat young. “She’s been amazing but I can see the stress it causes her. She took care of Myles for so long before he went into the home and she never really got a break, you know? But when I’ve suggested she take a break, she says no, she can handle it. But I think I’m getting worse, as I’m forgetting more stuff, you know?”

Zach’s grey-black hair bobbed into his face a bit as he nodded, twirling his coffee cup in his hands. “Why don’t all of us pool our money and send her on a vacation? We’ll make sure one of us can stay with you around the clock that week, so she doesn’t have to worry.”

I perked up at that idea, as Lyric and Noel took their place with their parents. I still can’t tell those two apart. “I think she’d like that. She’s always wanted to go spend a week at the farm, of all things. Alise has told her to come whenever, but she never goes.”

“It’s settled then. Watch your email,” he told me, wrapping up just before Katie got into hearing range. “How you doing Katie?”

She shrugged, yawning a bit. Her once vibrant red hair was now dull and grey, cut shorter than usual. There were dark bags under her eyes and her shoulders sagged a bit. She was thinner in recent years, and I wonder if this is how stressed she’s been.

“I’m good. Still missing Myles, of course, though I know it was a blessing for him. But it doesn’t lessen the pain, you know? But I’m doing okay. Glad to have the kids and grandkids here for picture day. They just arrived and are changing.”

I nodded, sitting down on a nearby chair. My back has been bothering again lately and I sighed; getting old sucks.

“It’s nice having you at the house,” I told her, as she rubbed my back a little. “I know it was hard for you to leave your house, but I appreciate it.”

“We’re both lost, lonely souls, Jimmy,” she told me settling beside me. “I don’t think either of us thought to prepare for the loss of our lifelong mates and now we have each other. I mean, we have our kids and we have Kelly, but mostly, we have each other.”

I leaned into her, reaching for a nearby tissue. Wiping my eyes, I nodded, as Johnny and Lacey took their turn. “We can’t forget that, Katie. I now that in time I’m going forget everything, but let’s not forget that we have each other, okay?”

She nodded, as I handed her a tissue as well. “Deal.”

***

It’s strange to be fully retired, I have to say. I have more time now to garden, which is nice, and Abba seems to enjoy it as well. Katie and I work on house projects or just spend time together reading or watching TV; it’s like Jacoby never left. She’s got me going on walks with her and things as well and it helps keep us both active.

I’ve also been spending more time with my grandkids. Corey continues to be a handful for his parents, and has added running away to his list of offences. I got a call from the cops this morning that he was caught in the park with friends smoking cigarettes and with beer. Needless to say, he called me because he didn’t want his mom to yell at him.

“Corey, this is getting to be beyond unacceptable,” I said, as I loaded him into the truck. He’s not exactly drunk, but he is buzzed pretty well. “I’m taking you home and letting your mother deal with you. Just your luck, she’s got the day off.”

“No, don’t take me home!” he pleaded, as I turned toward their house. His hands reached for the steering wheel, but I managed to fight him off. “Grandpa! Don’t make me go home!”

I have never had someone fight me for the steering wheel. Corey managed to get his hands on it, and tried to turn us back into traffic, as I tried to wrestle him off. I was slowing the truck, but it wasn’t in time before he turned us in front of someone and we got hit.

“Fuck!” I shouted, as my grandson sat back down in his seat. “Good job, Corey, now my truck is wrecked.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and he did sound sorry, but that didn’t fix the situation. “I didn’t intend for that to happen.”

“You’re still going home,” I told him, as my back started hurting. It’s probably related, but oh well. “Now, I’m going to deal with the person we hit. And you’re paying me back for this.”

I got out of the truck and slammed the door, hearing sirens in the distance. The truck has child locks, so I locked it to keep Corey inside. It’s always a good idea to turn off the truck, so he wouldn’t be rolling down a window to escape, either.

“I’m a retired medic, is anyone hurt?” I asked, snapping into paramedic mode.

“No, I don’t think so. Shouldn’t a retired medic know how to drive?” the elderly lady scolded me, looking at her car. “My brakes are good, but they aren’t magic.”

“I do apologize, ma’am,” I said, hoping to diffuse her anger. “My grandson is angry and thinks now is a good time to wrestle the car from me. I assure you, he’s going to pay for this.”

“Let me speak to him,” she said, as the cops arrived on scene. Joy. “And then we can call for rides home.”

I nodded, already dialing Eliza as I unlocked the truck. “Corey, talk to the lady who hit us.”

He nodded, his head hung low, as his mother’s phone went to voice mail. I knew Clayton and all of my friends were at work, so I dialed Katie.

“Katie? Can you come to Slater by the Shipley Nature Center? Corey and I have been in an accident. We’re fine, but the truck is probably not going to start.”

“Oh god! I’ll be right down!”

I hung up, wishing she wasn’t so excited, then looked over at Corey. The woman was watching as he spoke to a cop, who was taking notes on his handheld computer tablet.

“Is this your grandson, sir?” the officer asked and I nodded, sighing. “What happened?”

“I got a call that he’d been caught in Central Park with marijuana and alcohol. He called me because he didn’t want his mother to yell at him. When I told him I was taking him straight home, he tried to gain control of the truck and caused the accident.”

“Is this true?” the officer asked my grandson, who simply nodded, his reddish-blonde hair falling into his eyes. “I see. I assume the charges are being run now for the previous events, but this accident will be a tricky one to sort out. For now, you’ll have to go home to your parents and we’ll have to call your grandfather when we get things sorted out.”

Corey nodded, as I exchanged information with the officer and the other woman involved. By that time Katie was here, as was someone for the other woman. I gave the tow truck driver the shop name for the truck, planning to call them as soon as I got home.

“I tried Eliza, but she didn’t answer, so Corey will have to come with us,” she said, as my grandson got in the back on the passenger side. He looks scared and I wonder if he will have learned anything from this incident. “But you will be punished, Corey.”

“I know,” he muttered, as Katie started for home. “Joy.”

24

“I’m going to kill him,” I seethed, as I hung up the phone. My dad had been trying to reach me all day, but I’d been busy with meetings, training new hires and appointments until seven tonight. I didn’t even stop for dinner, though someone did bring me supper. “That was my dad.”

Clayton looked up from his office computer where he, too, was working late. He had a new photographer to train since my dad’s retirement and he’d been very busy with weddings of late. Furrowing his brow, my husband finished his editing and then saved the work, shut down the computer and beckoned me to his lap.

“What did you dad do to warrant his illegal murder?” he asked, his tone gently joking. He was in for a surprise.

“Nothing. It was Corey.”

I hadn’t sat down yet, so I got to see the look on Clayton’s face. First he was shocked, then angry, and he finally looked at me, helpless.

“Now what did our charming boy do?” he asked, his tone hard. “I hope he hasn’t killed anyone.”

I shook my head, settling into a chair across from my husband and sighing. “No, but he could’ve. I guess he got caught drinking and smoking weed in Central Park this morning. He knew we were busy with work, of course, so he called my dad. Dad was going to bring him to our house, of course, and Corey decided he wasn’t having it. He tried to gain control of dad’s truck and ended up causing an accident. The police are still sorting out who’s getting the ticket for failure to yield and running a red light.”

“Oh fuck. And even though Jimmy was driving, can our kid get a DWI? Can he lose his permit? Oh hell, Liza. We need a plan right now.”

I nodded, unable to deny that he was right. You think you’ve raised your kids to good people, but then they go and do something like this. Corey seems to have the world ahead of him but he’s ruining that day by day. We thought we’d curbed the problem when I first caught him and now I find out he’s escalating.

“What can we do?” I asked, leaning back in my chair. My husband’s brown eyes, one of his defining features, were troubled. “I mean, we’ve emptied his room, we’ve grounded him, taken away privileges, you name it. What’s left?”

“Boarding school.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard my husband correctly. He nodded and I frowned; was sending my kid away really the answer to all of this?

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, wondering if he’d lost his mind. “You want to send our problem child away?”

He shrugged, his face a mask of questions. “I don’t know. I just know that we have to do something, Eliza. Whatever we’re doing now isn’t working. I mean, do we limp along like your folks did with Priscilla all those years? We don’t have the option of letting him see someone truly fucked up on drugs. Your dad has told his story so many times and it’s not sinking in at all. We’ve punished him to the extent we can and that’s not working. He’s got to drop these so-called friends, but we both know that’s easier said than done. What’s left?”

I understood his reasoning, but I was still at a loss as to how this was the right choice. I mean, boarding school? “I don’t know. We haven’t tried counseling yet. Maybe we should try that first. It’s covered by our insurance and if he’s got someone to talk to that’s not in our family, that might help him. I just don’t know that sending him away is the right choice.”

“Eliza, he’s going to flunk his sophomore year of high school. You know this and I know this. Even with a last minute miracle, he’s probably not going to pass all of his classes. He’s skipping almost daily now, despite our best efforts to curb it. If he gets picked up again, he’s probably going to juvie for a while. I know that we both think that would be a good way to handle things, but is it? It didn’t work for your sister or your dad. So what’s left? Rehab at fifteen? That doesn’t even exist. He’s going to self-destruct and I don’t want to be the cause of that.”

“How are we the cause? We’ve done nothing but try to help him! Maybe we need to reevaluate what we’re doing, you know? If grounding him, taking things away, talking to dad haven’t helped, then what else can we do? There has to be something we can do differently, right?”

Clayton’s face turned thoughtful for a moment. “Maybe. We can try counseling and see where that gets us, I guess. I know someone who’s supposed to be good for kids this age. But have we considered that perhaps he’s just taking after Jimmy? You said yourself it could run in the family.”

I nodded, biting my plump lower lip. “I have considered that. After all, look at Cilla. But I guess I figured we did a better job than this, you know? The girls are fine and have shown no tendencies toward this sort of crap. So how did we go so wrong with Corey?”

Clayton sighed, shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing we did. But, and I don’t mean this against your dad, I want to reach Corey before he runs away and we have to wonder where he is, you know?”

I nodded, because I had to agree. I didn’t want to go through what my grandparents had gone through for over ten years, thinking their son was dead. I was already losing my son; I didn’t want to lose him for good.

“I just don’t know what to do. If the counseling fails, then what? It’s not like we can send him to work with drug addicted youth,” I pointed out. Corey had quit the bookstore after Jacoby died, and we didn’t blame him. He was now sacking groceries at a local grocery store and while he didn’t like it, it was a paycheck for him. “We can try counseling, but I want a backup plan if it fails.”

Clayton nodded, yawning, as he stood, pulling me up as well. “We’ll research boarding schools, okay? It’s not my first choice, but we should consider it if all else fails.”

“Agreed.”

We collected our things, then clasped hands and walked out to our vehicles together. I still don’t think boarding school is the answer, but yet, I can’t think of anything else, either. I wonder if dad has any ideas, though his parents didn’t try very hard with him. I don’t blame grandma and grandpa, because I know they carry a lot of guilt over what they didn’t do for their son; I just don’t want to make those same mistakes, you know?

“We’ll find the answers, Liza,” Clayton assured me as I climbed into my truck. “It’ll just take time.”

I nodded, getting in and starting it up. I knew he was right, but it was hard to believe him for some reason.

***

Spring finally came to HB, and after an unseasonably cold winter, it was nice to have the usual warm days. Dad’s memory declined a bit over the last couple of months, but Katie is able to take care of him for now. I mostly notice that he has to think about whom people are and it takes longer for him to answer questions. His memory doctor says that the medication has done what it can; it’s all downhill from here.

“Hey dad!” I called, entering the house. We all going for lunch today and then to Marianna’s last concert of the school year; of course, they’re always at two in the afternoon.

“Hey Cilla!” he called, then paused, frowned and shook his head. “Liza. Sorry.”

I hugged him, trying not to show how hard it was that he was slipping away. “No worries. You always did say we looked like twins. Ready for lunch?”

He nodded, glancing upstairs as Katie came down, pulling her keys from her pocket. She moved slower these days as well, as she entered her 70s.

“I’ve got the camera,” dad announced, holding up a new one he’d recently gotten. I’d been helping Katie clean when I’d spotted a box with Jacoby’s handwriting. Inside were gifts for dad for Christmas and his birthday; the tears dad shed were a mix of happiness and sadness and this camera caused the most tears. “I still can’t believe he had this purchased ahead of time. Smart man, my Jack.”

We were all surprised. “Is Kelly meeting us at the school?” Katie asked, as we moved to her car.

“No, she’s meeting us at Ruby’s now. Thad’s coming as well, as his doctor’s appointment got switched to tomorrow, so that freed them both up for the concert.”

She grinned that famous Sullivan grin, which we’ve all been blessed with in this family and nodded. “Excellent. I’m excited to hear Mari sing; I hear she got a solo?”

I nodded, buckling in in the back. “She did. It’s short, of course, since she’s only in first grade, but she’s excited. Matt helped her work on it and she’s practiced every night for the last two weeks to get it perfect. Her teacher emailed me to say she’d nailed it in practice yesterday, so she should be fine today.”

We were quiet, then, until we got to the restaurant. Dad seemed happy today, something I was grateful for. Some people, when they start deteriorating with dementia, they can become ‘mean’, if you will. So far, dad’s managed to keep an even temperament.

“Hey guys!”

I hugged my Aunt Kelly, thinking how great she looked for 74. She truly doesn’t look her age, and neither does her husband, Thad. They never had kids, and neither seems bothered by that in the slightest. They’ve just spoiled myself and Cilla rotten, along with our kids.

“How are you, Jim?” she asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

“I’m good. Forgetful at times, of course, but good; Katie is taking good care of me.”

She nodded, giving her brother a tight hug, which he returned, clearly understanding her intent. We all moved into the restaurant and I wondered just how much time I had left with my dad. I made a mental note that, despite problems with kids, Cilla and I were going to have a day with just us and our dad.

***

When should we do this? I’m free the weekend, and so is Randi, so Saturday would work best for me.

I hit reply on the email, glancing at my calendar; so far, I was free that weekend, as I’d requested it off to spend Friday and Sunday with the kids for some music stuff they had going on.

Saturday should work for me. I’ll double check when Clayton gets home, but for now, plan on Saturday.

I waited a second and sure enough, Cilla replied quickly. Sounds good. Gotta head back to ER now, but let me know for sure so I can let Katie know.

I nodded, standing to meet my next appointment. I had a short week and I was glad. Mari’s concert had been a success and she’d nailed her solo. Dad’s camera had caught nearly every moment, and I was happy to look through all the pictures. He might be succumbing to dementia, but his ability to take pictures was not going anywhere.

“Liza? You’re one o’clock cancelled, had an emergency come up and rescheduled for Friday morning with Star,” Matt said, filling in for a sick artist. Hopefully, Shane would be back soon.

“Thanks for filling in,” I said, settling behind the reception desk. I looked at the remainder of my afternoon, glad to see I could leave at five. “Shane never gets sick, so when he does, it always hits him hard.”

“No worries,” my uncle assured me, working on a sketch. “I've reduced my hours because my hands just can’t do it anymore. That means I’m free to fill in as needed here and there for your artists. So, got the plan to spend a day with your dad?”

I nodded, grabbing a sketch book of my own. “Unless Clayton has any objections, we’re planning for Saturday. I just feel like the medication is wearing off so much faster now and we’re going to lose him before too long. I don’t know why, but I feel like next Christmas, we won’t have him.”

Matt hugged me for a moment, as I took a deep breath. “Don’t think about the what ifs, Liza, it won’t get you anywhere. Had Val and I done that with Madeline when she was diagnosed with cancer, she wouldn’t be here right now. You have to take it one day at a time, no matter how hard that might be.”

I nodded, beginning a sketch of my parents. It was the one tattoo I didn’t have yet, because I couldn’t find the perfect portrait; now, it was time to make my own, a memory I had of them. Drawing my parents had become a hobby, because it wasn’t going to be long before I was an orphan and I wasn’t looking forward to it.