Lost (5 page)

And there it was. A few weeks after
Brian died, I dragged all the kids to a family therapist. At first, everyone
was reluctant to talk. Looking back, I think the kids were afraid they would
say something that would be
wrong
, but the therapist assured them that
nothing they were feeling could be wrong. Their feelings were their own, and
all he was there to do was to help them understand that.

Carey was the
one that finally exploded one day. “Dad didn’t have to go for that run! He
could have eaten dinner with us, and then Sam and I could have gone to the gym
with him. Then he wouldn’t have been on the street, and he wouldn’t have been
hit by that car!”

Jimmy picked it
up. “Yeah, and he wouldn’t have died alone... in a ditch.”

The girls
looked shocked, and Sam gathered them into his lap, but I said nothing. The
boys had the courage to say what Sam and I had been thinking. I knew Sam agreed
with them. I saw it in his eyes, and I knew my own thoughts.

The therapist
just nodded. “You’re right. If he had waited, none of you would be here in this
office today. Or maybe you would.”

Six heads
swiveled toward him, questions on all but one of them.

“What does that
mean?” Carey asked, tears flowing down his angry face.

“I think what
Dr. Holt is trying to say is that there are no guarantees. Yes, if Dad hadn’t
been running on the road, he might not have been hit by the car. But maybe Dad
would have gotten hurt the next day at the construction site. Maybe all three
of you would have been in a car accident on the way home from the gym.” I
answered Carey, not waiting for the doctor.

“Your mom’s
right. You assume that had your Dad not gone for a run, he would be here with
you all right now, and we just don’t know that.”

“But we don’t
know he wouldn’t be.” Sam said quietly.

“You’re right,”
the doctor affirmed. “And knowing that, you will be mad. That’s normal. It’s
normal to want to yell at your father for leaving you. Sometimes you might even
feel like you hate him. Again, that’s all normal. Or maybe I should say it’s
okay. Jimmy, Carey, it sounds like you feel some of that now. Sam, I think you
do as well. The girls are younger, so it might take years for them to feel that
burst of anger, or they might never feel it. Grief has no set patterns. The
only thing I can tell you for certain is that it’s okay to feel the way you
feel. And though it’s hard, try not to get wrapped up in the
what if
’s.”

The three older
boys nodded in understanding, and the girls just curled into Sam, content to
let him figure it all out for them. And right there at that moment, I just felt
numb.

I felt angry. I felt violated. I was
pissed that a dead cat could turn me upside down so quickly. That some
dog’s—because really, what else could it be—midnight snack could make me look
at my house differently… all because Brian wanted to go for a run. Maybe it was
irrational to think that way. Maybe that made me ignorant, but that’s where I
was.

“Mom?” Sam called
from downstairs. “Are you ready?”

I took one last
look around the room and shut the door. I ran down the stairs and handed Jimmy
my bag, taking Maggie from him. “Okay. I’m good.”

Sam hurried
into the kitchen to tell Anthony we were leaving, and Bee picked up the girls’
bags. Sam came in and took Maggie from me, “I got her, Mom.”

I let him take
her, and I sagged for a moment feeling empty, but Jimmy came over and took my
hand, and with Bee on the other side, we headed outside and up the road.

We walked in
silence, and the air felt... good. I didn’t feel that same ominous presence I
had felt outside when Sam and I were on the porch. The night felt clean, and,
well, it felt safe.

“You sure I can’t get you anything?” Bee
asked me again.

I laughed at my
friend. “Bee, relax. I’m good. We’re good.”

The girls and I
were in Bee and Anthony’s guest room. Bee had helped me get the girls
settled—again—and they were both already fast asleep. Carey and Sam were in
Anthony’s office on the pull out. And Jimmy had crept into Ant’s—who had slept
through everything—room and slipped into the top bunk.

I crossed the
room and hugged my friend. “Thank you, Bee. Thanks for everything.”

“Always, Jules.
Anything you need, we’re here.” She hugged me back.

I nodded, willing
myself not to cry. “You guys are the best.”

Bee just nodded
and pulled away. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s another day.”

She waited
until I had crawled into bed beside the girls. Jessie, who was closest to me,
curled into me and put her hand on my chest. I nodded at my friend, and she
turned off the light and shut the door.

I stared into
the dark and breathed a sigh of relief. The night still felt right. It still
felt safe. I shut my eyes and let my mind wander. Whenever I had trouble
sleeping, I conjured up a future. The future that should have been.

About six years
ago, Brian’s father passed away. His mother had passed away a few years
before—after a valiant battle with ovarian cancer. After his mother passed,
Brian’s father bought a run down house beside a lake about 45 minutes from our
house. He sold the old family home and spent his time fixing up the
lake
house
as he called it. The three older boys used to love to go out and help
him putter around the house. They would do projects together, and then fish
from the dock in the late afternoon sun. I used to get picture after picture on
my cell phone—Sam holding a fish, Carey pushing Sam into the lake because he
couldn’t catch a fish, and Brian’s dad always laughing at his grandsons.
Occasionally, Brian would join them, leaving the girls and I to enjoy our
girlie
time.

And when
Brian’s father passed away, he left the house to us with the request that we
continue to fix it up. And we did. There was still a list on the fridge of
projects that Brian wanted to get done. I refused to throw it out, thinking
that one day the boys and I would complete that list.

But in my
dreams the future didn’t have just the boys and I fixing up the place. Brian
was there too. Maybe we would sell the house and move there permanently after
the boys had moved out. Brian would build that boat house he wanted with the
party deck that I wanted, and we would have our friends over. And one day,
maybe our grandkids would come over to swim. He would finish the kitchen we had
designed together with the concrete countertops that I had to have. The tree
that Sam, Carey, and Jimmy planted out back would be big enough for a tire
swing, and the girls—teenagers then—would swing on it as their father looked
on.

We had so many
dreams, and now they only lived in my mind. Sometimes they felt so real that I
found myself crying when I woke up, angry that I was ripped away from what
should have been.

And now it was
bittersweet, because I forced myself to see the lake house with just the six of
us. Maybe, I would sell our house and move everyone there. Maybe Sam and I
could figure out how to pour the concrete countertops into the forms that Brian
had built the last time he was up there. Maybe our grandchildren would come
visit me, and maybe I would buy a dog to keep me company.

Thinking about
the lake house without Brian there beside me hurt so deeply I couldn’t describe
it, and yet a part of me felt like finishing that list of projects. I’m sure
it’s what he would have wanted.

I drifted off
to sleep, thinking of trees and tire swings and what should have been.

“God, my head hurts!” I sat up and
clutched my head between my hands, willing the pounding headache to go away.

I looked around
the room, searching for some sign of the girls. The other side of the bed was
empty, the covers thrown back, and the door was open. I heard Maggie’s voice
drift up the stairs. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I
jumped in the shower, thankful for the towels Bee must have put out for me. The
warm water running over my sore body felt good, and the headache quickly
receded as the warm water did its job and woke me up. I quickly shampooed my
hair, and then ran soap over my body. After rinsing off, I jumped out of the
shower ready to tackle whatever it is animal control brought my way. I pulled
on the shorts and T-shirt I had hastily grabbed last night and walked down the
stairs. The girls were in the kitchen with Bee, Anthony, Jimmy, and Ant. No
sign of Carey and Sam yet.

“Hi, Mommy!”
Maggie danced over to me and slipped her arms around my waist. “Mrs. B said to
let you rest.”

I thanked Bee
with my eyes and walked over to sit next to Anthony. “Thanks for last night.
For helping with the kids, what happened at the house...”

Anthony put the
newspaper down and looked at me. Anthony was about 5 years older than Bee and
I. As a retired Army colonel he had seen a lot in his life, but he was also one
of the kindest men I knew. Concern was evident in his soft, chocolate eyes.

“Jules, we are
here for you. Always. No matter what.” He sounded just like his wife. He turned
around and said to Ant and Jimmy, “Why don’t you guys take the girls out back?
It’s a beautiful day.”

What he didn’t
say was they needed to leave so the adults could talk. But the boys picked up on
the implication. Ant and Jimmy hustled the girls outside, just as Carey and Sam
walked into the kitchen. Both the boys had sleep-tousled hair and red eyes.

“Morning,
boys!” Bee gave them each a kiss on the head and placed plates full of eggs,
sausage, and toast in front of them. They looked at her with adoration and dove
into their food.

“So animal
control came and took the carcass with them last night. I persuaded them to
wait until after lunch to come out and look at the backyard, along with the
assurance that no one would go out there,” Anthony began. “On a side note,
whatever got to that animal did a real number on it.”

“That’s an
understatement, Mr. A. I’ve never seen anything like that. I swear it’s like
something out of a horror movie!” Sam stressed between bites.

“I’ll agree
with that,” I said, “but we do back up to the woods. There are feral dogs out
there. They’ve been caught before.”

Anthony nodded.
“Your mom’s right. After animal control finishes up, I figure the three of us
can check the fence—make sure there are no loose boards or holes under the
fence that an animal might have slipped through. If there is anything that
needs to be repaired, I probably have stuff in the garage. We can get it taken
care of.”

Anthony just
had that kind of presence. Whatever he said, you kind of went along with it.
Not because he was manipulative or pushy, but because he just made you feel
like he knew best, and whatever went down, he would take care of it... and you.
Brian was like that, and I think that’s why the boys felt safe in deferring to
Anthony, or Mr. A as they had always called him.

“Well, if
animal control isn’t coming for a few more hours, maybe I can get home and
clean up a bit. The kitchen is a mess. I think the dinner dishes are still
sitting in the sink!” I moaned. With 5 kids, I often felt as if the dishes
procreated overnight. Dishes and laundry were just never-ending in my house.

“I can come
along and help,” Bee offered. “I really don’t have anything planned today.”

Normally I
would have taken her up on it, but I had something in mind for the day.

Sam and Carey
had finished up their breakfast and were putting their plates in the sink.

“Boys, can you
go outside with everyone else? I want to talk to Anthony and Bee for a second.”
I asked.

They both nodded
and went outside.

I looked to
Bee. “Bee, you know I’d take you up on your offer, but I was hoping the kids
could hang out here with you this morning.”

“Of course,”
she reassured me. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s
just that... well, last night when I went upstairs to get my stuff, I realized
that I still have all of Brian’s things in the closet. I’ve even left his work
boots by the window seat, after all these months. I don’t know... I was just
looking at those boots, and it dawned on me that he had only worn them a couple
of times. Someone else could get a lot of use out of them. I just feel like
it’s time... time to go through his things. I have some things in mind for the
kids. His black suit would look great on Sam now, and Carey always liked the
gray cardigan Brian had. Things like that. But his T-shirts, his jeans...
someone else could put them to good use. They aren’t doing much just hanging in
my closet.”

The mark of a
good friend, in my book, is knowing when to say something and knowing when to
stay quiet. Anthony and Bee seemed to sense that this was a real turning point
for me, and they let me ramble. When I was done, Bee spoke up.

“You know what?
I think that sounds like a great idea. If the kids stay here, that will give
you time to box things up and do what you need to without them underfoot.
Anthony is going to be home, and we were thinking of taking Ant to the water
park. Why don’t we take all the kiddos and make a day of it?”

We all had
passes to the local amusement park, and our families often went together. The
kids would go off and do their thing. Sam and Carey usually let the girls tag
along with them, and the adults would find our own way. I think the four of us
liked the park as much as the kids. We rode the roller coasters and screamed
with the best of them. The guys would have a beer and laugh while Bee and I
danced on stage. Amy and Ben would come with us when they had time, and the six
adults always had a great time. And now, I would be the fifth wheel.

“That sounds
great! Jimmy has been after me to go, and we just haven’t gotten around to it.”

Anthony clapped
his hands and nodded his head, “I’m in. Can we borrow your van, J?”

I had a big,
ugly, green Ford E-350. I had no problem admitting it was huge and far from the
hottest ride on the streets, but I loved it. I even named her Zilla. Brian had
been after me to trade it in. We had even looked at a few newer models, but I
was reluctant to give up my monster.

“Sure! She’s
all gassed up, and she’s yours. I really appreciate it, guys... I think I’ll
head to the house now. I’ll get the girls’ things ready, and maybe Carey and
Sam can head over to get the boys’ stuff soon.”

“Sounds good!
If we leave soon, we can probably avoid some of the summer rush,” Bee replied.
The park always got busy in the afternoon, but on weekday mornings, it was
always quiet.

I gave Bee a
quick hug and kissed Anthony on his balding head. Then I ran upstairs,
collected my things, and slipped out the front door.