Once Broken (25 page)

Sitting on the edge of Jackie’s bed, tears in her eyes, Tara said, “Honey, I think you need to see Barbara about this. You need help processing it. And Gina needs you to be strong. She’s hurting, too. I’m so worried about you both.”

Jackie’s eyes filled with tears. “I know, Tara. You’re right. I’m worried about Gina too. I’m overwhelmed with sadness and anger. I don’t know what to do. When my dad died, my mother didn’t help us. It was awful. I’ll call Barbara tomorrow.”

May 1991

L
ouie and Anna were concerned for their granddaughter. Jackie was emotionally absent. And they knew Gina loved and missed Sean too. Louie told Anna, “Sweetheart, I’m going to take Gina down to the track. She needs a diversion. She’ll love it. I’ll introduce her to the boys. Let her do some betting.”

“That’ll be quite a diversion for a little Catholic girl. Are you sure it’s appropriate?”

“She’s thirteen. That’s old enough. It’s all in fun.”

Louie called Gina to make a date for Saturday. At the sound of Louie’s horn mid-Saturday morning, Gina ran into her mother’s bedroom. “Mom, Louie’s here. We’re going out for a while. Ashley’s coming to visit, so you won’t be alone.”

Jackie’s gaze remained on the television as she lay in bed. “Oh honey, that’s nice. Don’t worry about me. Have fun. Give me a kiss.”

Gina was happy to go to the track with her grandfather. She’d overheard him tell Nana tidbits about the track so many times. On the way to Suffolk Downs, Louie instructed Gina on ways to pick a winner. Once inside, Louie took her hand as they joined three men standing at the window overlooking the track, enveloped in a cloud of cigar smoke. One man yelled at the other, “Jesus, Duke, of course Lady Lil’s a winner, you son of a bitch!” Turning to see Louie with a young girl, the same guy said, “Geez, sorry little girl. I didn’t see ya there.”

“Boys, I’d like you to meet my granddaughter, Gina.” Louie put his arm around Gina, who now stood a little taller than his shoulder. “Gina, these are the boys.”

She looked up at her grandfather and whispered, “Louie, they don’t look like boys.”

The men let out a healthy laugh. “They’re my boys, because we grew up together back in the North End when we really were boys. Over here.” He pointed to a stout middle-aged man about Gina’s height, puffing a cigar, as they all were. “He’s Carmine, but we call him Jerry.”

“Nice to meet ya, little girl,” Jerry said, with the cigar planted at the side of his lips.

“Hello, nice to meet ya.” Gina shook his hand.

Pointing to the man standing beside Jerry who was a foot taller, thin, with gray hair like Louie’s, he said, “This is Phil, but we call him Fatty.”

“Pleasure, little girl. Shorty’s quite a guy.”

“Hello, and who’s Shorty?”

The boys chuckled. “That’s your granddaddy,” Fatty answered.

“It is?” She looked at her grandfather with crinkled eyebrows. “I thought your name was Louie.”

The boys roared again. “She’s a sweetheart,” Jerry said. “Reminds me of my grandkids out in California.”

“My name
is
Louie. I’ll explain at lunch.”

“The guy here next to Fatty, he’s Victor.” He pointed to the man who was a little taller than Jerry with thick black eyebrows, black slicked-back hair, and a thick mustache, puffing on his cigar. “But we call him Duke.”

“Of course you do,” Gina said, shaking her head.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Duke greeted her as he puffed his cigar.

“Hello, nice to meet ya too.” She shook his hand, choking on his exhaled smoke.

“Hey, watch the smoke around the kid.”

“Sorry, little girl,” Duke apologized as he patted her back.

“Hey, who’s got a stogie for me?” Louie asked.

“It’s my turn.” Jerry took a cigar out of his sport coat pocket. “Your grandpa doesn’t like your grandma knowing he smokes these things. So he takes turns bumming, uh, I mean, borrowing them from us.”

“Oh,” Gina said with an understanding nod.

“Well boys, Gina and I have a lunch date in the lounge. We’ll meet you in Section D for the races.”

They sat by a window in the dining room. “So darlin’ what do you think of the boys?”

“They’re nice. But what’s with the crazy nicknames?”

Louie had a good laugh even though he knew the question was coming. “Ah, we call Phil Fatty cuz he was a fat kid.”

Gina gasped. “That’s not nice.”

“Yeah, little boys aren’t as polite as little girls. Anyway, we call Victor Duke because he was a boxer when we were younger. He liked to duke things out.”

“Oh.” Gina nodded in complete understanding. “Why do they call you Shorty?”

“Well, when I was a kid I liked betting on the games, like football. Whenever I placed a bet I was always short on money. The boys loaned me money until my next payday. So, “they call me Shorty.”

She nodded. “And what about Jerry?”

“Well, there’s no good reason for that one. He didn’t like Carmine, so we called him by his middle name.”

“Ah,” she said, and turned to look out at the track before opening her menu.

“I’m having a burger. Would you like one too, darlin’?”

“Yum. With French fries. Boy, am I hungry!”

“Well then, I’ll get the waitress right over here.”

They ate lunch while Louie continued to educate Gina on betting the races. “So, you can pick a horse that you happen to think has a good name. That’s a hunch. Or we can go to the paddock—see, that thing over there.” He pointed. “That’s where the horses get saddled before the race. We can see how the horse looks. Does it look relaxed, loose, light on its feet? Is its coat shiny? Does it look ready to run?”

“I’ll play a hunch,” she said. “I like Princess Grace.”

“Well, those are some pretty big odds you picked there. Princess Grace is twenty-five to one—kind of a long shot to win. But if you do win, you’ll win twenty-five dollars for each dollar and we’re betting two dollars. So you’d win fifty dollars. You sure you want to go with that one?

“Yup. That’s my hunch,” Gina said with total conviction.

After they finished their burgers, Louie placed Gina’s bet before they joined the boys. The bugler played “Boots and Saddles” and Gina was swept up in the enthusiastic anticipation of the crowd. The race began. Gina leaped from her seat yelling and screaming along with the boys. When Princess Grace won, she pumped her fist to the sky, copying the boys and yelling “Whoo! Hoo!” before leaping into her grandfather’s hug.

“Louie, this girl’s one of the boys,” Fatty noted with a chuckle.

“Yup, she can join us anytime,” agreed Duke, while Jerry gave Louie the thumbs up.

“Thanks boys!” Turning to her grandfather with sparkling eyes, she rubbed her hands together. “So, I won fifty big ones, right?”

“Yup, that’s my darlin’!” He put his arm around her shoulders.

At the end of the day, Louie gave her the fifty dollars she’d won. She returned home feeling renewed. Before getting out of the car, she kissed Louie on the cheek. “Louie, can we do this again?”

“Sure thing darlin’.”

She opened the car door. Before she got out, she whispered, “Nana’s gonna know you smoked a stogie. You kinda stink.” Her nose crinkled.

He chuckled. “Thanks for the warning, darlin’.”

August 1991

Losing Sean shook Jackie to the core. Sessions with Barbara guided her through the grieving process, this time as an adult and while the wounds were fresh. She processed her denial. She cried. She screamed. She acknowledged the pain. Eventually, she came to terms with the loss. Sean would be a part of her for the rest of her life. She read books about death and afterlife. She sought a reputable medium. She craved to feel him around her. She needed to know where Sean was now. But she stopped taking antidepressant drugs. She stopped feeling suffocated. She was able to get out of bed and get dressed. She talked to Gina about her feelings and comforted her resilient daughter. She resumed her career. She needed to get on with her life for herself and Gina, as her mother had advised.

October 1991

T
ara entered Jackie’s townhouse, shook off her umbrella at the door, and put it in the stand.

“Can you believe it’s still raining?” She hung her raincoat on the coat rack.

“It’s good to see you, Tara. I’m making chicken stir-fry. But first we’re having hot rum toddies to warm our bones.”

“Oh, I’ll pass on the hot toddy. I’ll have tea.”

“Sure. Come in the kitchen and pick your flavor.”

As Tara chose her tea bag, she said, “How are you doing, Jackie?”

“Well, I bought this condo. The owner was selling and I love it here.”

“Oh it’s a perfect place for you. How are you doing otherwise?”

“Tara, even after six months, which feels like an eternity on one hand and like an instant on the other, I still miss Sean every day. Sometimes unbearably. Some days are good, some are bad.”

“Oh, I know honey, it takes time.” Tara reached for her friend’s hand. “Six months isn’t long for grieving. I know it feels like the pain will never end, but it will.”

“Yeah, I know from my dad’s death. That took me like twenty-four years and a few years of therapy to get over, if indeed I ever did. I hope this doesn’t take me that long.” Jackie moaned. “Then I remember the Tennyson quotation, ‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,’ and I’m not sure about that either. If I never knew Sean, I’d have never known complete love. But, because I did, now I know exactly what I’m missing and it hurts like hell.” Her voice cracked.

Tara’s blue eyes stung. “I’m so sorry Jackie. I don’t know what to say.”

“I know. There’s nothing anyone can say. It takes time to work through this overwhelming sadness, anger, and confusion. If only Sean could wrap his arms around me, everything would be okay.” She wiped the stream of tears from her cheeks with both hands, and took a swig of a hot toddy. “Okay, enough. How’s life with Jim?”

“We’re so happy.” Tara hesitated.

“Geesh, don’t ever be afraid to tell me how happy you are. What kind of friendship is that?”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely, of course.” Jackie took the hot toddy in both hands.

“Well, I’m pregnant!”

Putting down the cup, she leaped to hug her friend. “That’s fantastic! You were considering
not
telling me? Ah, that’s why you’re not drinking.”

“Yup.” Tara grinned from ear to ear.

“I’m thrilled for you guys. Finally, my tears are happy ones.” She wiped her eyes.

The two chatted about when the baby was due, possible names, general plans. As Jackie cleared the table, Tara went to the bathroom. Passing the desk in the living room she noticed a note signed by Tony. She brought it into the kitchen. “Jackie, what’s this?”

“Oh I forgot. It came this morning. You should read it.”

“I did. Tony?” With her mouth gaping, she sat sideways on the kitchen chair, her legs crossed, and scanned it again.

Dear Jackie,

My mother told me about Sean’s death. I want you to know that I’m deeply sorry for your loss. You’ve been and will remain in my thoughts daily.

With love,
Tony

“Is this a compassionate gesture or is some ulterior motive lurking?”

“Who knows.”

“He’s amazing. Did Anna tell Gina anything that might predict this?”

“I don’t recall anything. Although I must admit, my listening skills aren’t what they once were. I’m so distracted still.”

“How’s Gina doing?”

“Oh, she’s fine. That poor kid. I was down for the count for a few months. But she’s a tough cookie. Louie took her to the track about a month ago. She loved it. He’s turning her into a gambler.” She chuckled.

“Funny. Should that concern you?”

“Nah, he keeps it in check. And, she has so much fun. She met his friends from his old neighborhood, calls them ‘the boys.’ It’s quite sweet.” Otherwise, same ol’ Gina. I thank God for her every day.

Listen Jackie, come out with us next weekend. A friend from work is having a party. She throws great ones. Jim and I are going. Mary Jane and Kathy from work will be there. You’ve met them. It’s not all couples.”

“Thanks Tara, really. But socializing’s so difficult.” Jackie refilled Tara’s tea cup and poured herself a glass of white wine.

“Life goes on, honey. I’m not suggesting you need to meet someone new yet. But you need to get out of the house.”

“No, really. I’m happy hanging out with Gina. I need to make up for lost time with her. If she’s busy, I enjoy being alone, listening to music. Sometimes when I’m alone I feel Sean’s presence. That happened when my Dad died too. I’d sit in his rocking chair and feel a sensation on my shoulder like the heat of a hand—not the weight so much, but the heat. It was eerie, yet comforting. Now when I’m alone and lost in memories of Sean, I feel the heat of his soul even if I can’t feel the warmth of his arms.”

“Jackie, whatever you need to do these days, you know I’m here for you.” She squeezed her friend’s hand.

January 1992

It was nearing the one-year anniversary of Sean’s death. Jackie was at work when the receptionist buzzed announcing she had a visitor. As she turned the corner and entered the reception area, she froze. Tony was on the settee. Astounded, she approached him. “What are you doing
here
?”

“I needed to see you and I knew if I called, you’d never agree.”

“You needed to see me?” She tried to keep her voice down. “So you came
here
?” She put her hands on her hips. “Tony, I’m working on an important deadline. I
don’t
have time for this. Please leave.”

“Jackie, I’ll leave as soon as you agree to have a drink with me after work tonight.”

“Why?”

“I
need
to talk to you and I’m not leaving until you agree.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you at Dooley’s at seven thirty. Now, leave!” She gestured toward the door.

*

Jackie entered Dooley’s and saw Tony in a booth tucked in a corner. She approached the table demanding information.

“Relax, Jackie. Have a seat. I just want to know how you’re doing.”

She sat uneasily on the edge of the opposite booth. “This is bizarre, Tony. But if you must know, I’m okay.”