by Lori L. Otto
“Jacks, she’s up there watching over Luca right now,” I say, trying to assure him that she is in a better place–and, more importantly, if he’s also having visions of her in that morgue, to get his mind off of that. “She’s making sure her girls are okay. She’s giving Jon the strength to get through this night, and morning… she’s not alone.”
The focused look down the hall becomes a vacant stare in my husband’s eyes. Coley releases Trey to take Jack’s other hand, and we guide him to the elevator that will take us to the parking garage.
Jack’s parents are at our brownstone when we get there. The aroma of French vanilla coffee greets us when we come in through the back door, but there’s little comfort in our own home when we’re met with the sorrowful grief in their eyes and their tearful hugs. It stirs up the loss and pain again, feelings that had just begun to settle like the bubbles in a freshly poured soda. I feel shaken up again as they begin to ask questions, especially as I watch Jack completely shut down.
“Sharon, Jack, let me take Jacks upstairs,” I tell them.
“I’ll explain things,” Trey says as he takes a seat on the couch next to Jack’s mother. “Coley and I can hang around for a bit.”
“Stay,” I say, urging my son to not leave. “Please.” I look at Coley. “It’s early. You probably haven’t had much sleep at all. You two can take the other guest room. Just stay here. Just today, please? Don’t go,” I plead, my eyes welling up with tears. “I want my family together.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Trey says. “We won’t go anywhere for a while. I need to see Max later, but… I’d rather be here with you two right now.”
I kiss the top of his head, then do the same to Coley. “Thank you.”
Jack walks like a zombie up the steps to our third-floor suite. I think he would have just stood in the doorway had I not walked him over to the bed and urged him to sit.
“Can I get you something?” I ask him.
The faraway look hasn’t left his eyes, and he doesn’t bother to look my way when he finally speaks, even though I’m standing right next to him. “I wish I were Isaiah,” he says softly. I gasp at his admission, putting my hand over my mouth. He reaches out, his palm up, and I place that hand in his, listening to him. “It’s selfish, but I’m jealous. He doesn’t have to know this pain.” He pulls both of our hands to his heart, bringing me closer to him. I sit with my body touching his on the bed. “It’s unbearable. No father should have to deal with this sort of pain.”
I know this pain. No parent should have to deal with it, but we have to. It’s our reality… and we have other children and grandchildren who will keep us going. I find relief in that.
“Honey, listen.” When I’m not sure he is listening, I angle myself toward him and tap his leg to prompt him to face me. He finally does, and I get a brief second of eye contact, too. His blue eyes have never looked so sad. “Think of it this way.” I speak softly, now holding both of his hands in mine. “How lucky is our daughter to be able to grow up with us… to spend her life with us… and then be welcomed into the next one with another set of parents who love her unconditionally, so she’s not alone and she’ll never be alone? And we don’t ever have to worry about that. We never have to worry about her.” Jack sighs as tears fall. “And she’ll never have to worry about her children not being taken care of because Jon’s still here and we’re here. We get to see her children grow up. We still get that. We know she’s safe and loved where she is now.
“Maybe this is how it was always supposed to be. As painful as it is for us, maybe this is all the time we were ever supposed to get with her. What a wonderful life we had with her!”
“No, Em,” Jack says, crying.
I nod, though, trying to be convincing with my theory even though I’m weeping, too. “Maybe it’s Isaiah and Simone’s turn now.” I release his hand briefly to wipe my eyes and nose. “Jacks, we did such a good job. We raised such a beautiful and talented woman. And she raised amazing daughters. She gave us a grandson. What a life we have, Jack! But don’t wish yours away.
“It hurts. It hurts so bad. We have so much to live for: Trey and Coley. They’re going to have kids someday, too. Edie and Willow, and now Luca. Jon’s going to need us. He has nobody. He’s our son. All of the boys. They’re our family. We brought them into our lives, and they’re always going to be a part of it. We love them.”
He nods his head, and as much as I know he agrees, nothing and no one can take the place of our precious Livvy. We both recognize this.
“We always knew our life was too perfect. We always knew a day like this would come; we just didn’t know what it would be. And this is one of the worst things that could happen to us.
“But Livvy has another family up there. And that brings me peace.”
He searches my eyes with such sadness and despair but releases my hands quickly to pull me into him. He cries hard on my shoulder. “I know,” he says.
“I hope it brings you peace, too… eventually.”
“Me, too.”
“You know,” I begin, running out of optimism, consoling words and energy. “If I can just make it until midnight tonight, I’ll know I can make it through the worst day of my life. And if I can do that, I think I can get through just about anything.”
He pulls away from me and kisses me softly on the lips. “We’ll do it together.”
“Thank you.”
Chapter 24
PART III - JON
While I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, I see two familiar faces peering through the glass of the NICU. Knowing my hands are bringing warmth to Luca’s small body as he sleeps against my chest, I’m reluctant to wave at my daughters, but the looks of pure joy on their faces change my mind quickly. I open my eyes wide, smile, and attempt to match their enthusiasm without waking my son.
I haven’t seen my girls in 36 hours and my heart aches to be with them now, when I know how badly they need me. Jack and Emi finally appear behind them, looking worn out and ready to hand over Edie and Willow to anyone who will take them. It’s not fair for me to ask my in-laws to watch my daughters now, when they’re still coming to terms with grief that’s so insurmountable, fresh and raw.
I’m grateful Matty and Nolan have agreed to take them home after I visit with them for a bit.
“Jon?” Katie speaks softly. “Time’s up. Looks like he’s sound asleep. I bet he’ll get in another few hours of good rest in the crib.” She points to the incubator. I hate that he has to stay in there. Nothing about it says comfort or home. I want nothing more than to get him out of the hospital and into… well, into some place that’s welcoming. I haven’t been to the apartment in four and a half days; not since that night. Neither have the girls.
Will has been kind enough to supply me with the things I need, not that I’ve asked for much. What’s to need when you feel as if you’ve lost everything?
I kiss Luca on the head and hand him over to the nurse, who walks him to the bed by the window where my family waits. Jack and Emi admire him adoringly. The girls move to the door, waiting for me to meet them in the hallway. After buttoning up my shirt, I hurry out to give them both big hugs and kisses.
“Daddy, when are we going home?” my youngest asks as I kneel down so I’m not towering over her.
“Soon, Wils,” I say to her, not knowing if there’s any truth to my answer. “Look how pretty you both look.”
“You stink, Daddy,” Edie informs me.
I imagine I do. In two days, the only real washing I’ve done is in the sink at the NICU, before I get to see Luca. In the times they take him to do testing and diagnostics, I’ve been jogging up and down the stairs of the hospital to keep my mind occupied. Not a great mix for stellar hygiene.
“Sorry, bunny,” I tell her, feeling a blush come across my face. “I haven’t found a shower here.”
“There’s one at home.”
“Very astute of you,” I mumble sarcastically, exhausted. “How are my girls d
oing?”
“We miss you,” Willow says, enveloping me in a hug. “I don’t care if you stink.”
“I miss you, too.”
“Then why do you spend all your time with him?”
“Honey, I’ve told you… he has nobody here but me.”
“Jon,” Emi says, “we’ve told you we’ll relieve you. We’d love some time with Luca.”
“I just feel like he needs to know me. Like, these first few days or weeks are precious for bonding or something. The nurses say his vitals are better when I’m with him. I want to get him out of here, so the more time–”
Jack puts his arm around my shoulder and walks me down the hall, away from the girls. “A few hours,” he says. “A good night’s sleep. Even taking a break to have dinner with your daughters. That would mean the world to them, and Luca will be fine. You’ll pick up where you left off. Emi had a tough time leaving Jackson when she was released from the hospital and he had to stay, but she had much more energy for him after she’d gotten rest at home.”
“It’s different,” I say argumentatively. Everything’s different now.
He frowns, but nods. “What about tomorrow?”
I look beyond him, not wanting to think about tomorrow. “I’ll be ready. Of course, I want to be there for Edie and Willow. As much as I never wanted to go to Liv’s funeral, I’ll be there to… to say goodbye. Somehow.” I wipe away the tears that fall. “I just hate that Luca won’t be there. I just want us to all be together. In the same room.” I scratch my head, knowing what I’m saying makes little sense. “Just once. And after tomorrow…”
“She’s in Heaven,” Jack says to me. I stare at him hard, hoping he’s right.
“Is that what the girls think?”
“Yes,” he responds. “I know your faith is different than ours, but–”
“No, Jack, I want them to think that. It’s… a comforting thought. I want there to be a Heaven, I do. And if there is, I know she’s there.”
“She’s there.”
His assurance brings more tears to my eyes, and he embraces me. He’s holding up much better than he was the last time I saw him, and I begin to hope that I, too, may begin to feel strength soon, or at least the will to get on with my normal life. The only things keeping me here so far are my kids. Without them, I wouldn’t want to be here.
“Son, you need a shower.” He says this just before he pats me on the back twice and releases me.
“Luca doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Luca can’t speak yet,” he says with a smile in his eyes.
“I’ll bathe before the funeral. Don’t worry.”
“Maybe a shave, too,” he suggests.
“Now you’re pushing it.” I feel the stubble on my chin and cheeks. This is about the length that began to drive Livvy nuts–and not in a good way. It was rare that I ever went four days without shaving, but the few times I did, she’d let me know by not returning my kisses, or by approaching me with the razor and threatening to do the job herself.
I let out a huge breath, realizing those moments are gone.
“She hated it like this,” I admit tearfully. He looks at me with sorrow. “Every fucking hour, Jack, it’s something different.” I look back at my daughters, still far enough away to not demand payment for my curse word. “Every hour, I realize the divergent path my life just unwittingly fell upon… and I hate it.”
“I know. Emi and I are going through the same thing.”
“I’m sure you are.” I swallow and try to compose myself. “It wasn’t like this with my mom. I thought that was loss, but… this?”
“Your relationship with Margie was always complicated. You can’t compare the two. You love people in your life in different ways, and I know you gave Liv everything, Jon. That’s why it feels like you’ve lost so much.”
“Jacks? Em?” Matty says from behind me. Willow and Edie run down the hall to greet their uncles. “You’re officially off-duty. Go home and rest, please.”
Jack looks at me, uncertain. “Go,” I urge him. “Or ogle your grandson for a bit, and then go home. I’ll go have a snack with the girls in the cafeteria before the guys take them.”
Emi puts her hand on my back. “I think we will go ogle Luca. I’ve missed him.” I thank them both for watching my daughters and tell them goodbye, taking from them a pink duffle that they’d brought along.
“You girls want to go get some ice cream in the café?” I ask, looking at my daughters, and then at Nolan and Matty.
All four of them answer in the affirmative, and I drag my leaden body toward the elevator to take us to the first floor. Apparently sensing my exhaustion, Nolan takes the bag from me.
The girls both seem happy to be having dessert before their dinner, even if it is at a dingy hospital table. They seem less affected than I expected them to be, but I know it’s good for them to have some distractions. Tomorrow will be difficult for them; tomorrow will be the day when they have to deal with the loss of their mother head on. The permanence of the situation will begin to set in at that point, I’m sure.
Tonight, it’s nice to see them smiling, to hear them chatting about the time they spent with Livvy’s parents. They watched a marathon of Harry Potter movies, and their imaginations are still soaring from the fictional world they’d lived in all afternoon.
“Do we need to do anything tonight for them?” Nolan asks me as Matty tells the girls a story about the first time he saw the films.
“They love getting their nails done. I know Liv was planning on taking them next weekend,” I tell him, then swallow the lump of sadness that tries to settle in my throat. “Would you guys mind taking them? I want them to… I don’t know…” I say, tugging on my hair. “I know Livvy would appreciate it.”
He puts his hand on mine, bringing it down to the table to stop my nervous habit. “We’d love to. Maybe you should go to a barber?” he suggests.
“I don’t have time for that.” I shrug him off.
He looks at his watch. “I’ve got a stylist who could do it at his place right now. He’s about fifteen blocks south. You’d be back within the hour.”
“Nah, thanks, Nolan.”
“What can we do for you?”
“You’ve already got the girls,” I say, looking at him with confusion. “That’s plenty.”
“For you.”
I think for about three seconds, then answer reflexively. “I want her back. The mother of my children. My wife. My best friend. Wake me up from this nightmare, Nolan. That’s all I want.”
“I wish I could, Jon,” he says. “Edie and Wils are in good hands. We’ll bring them in the morning, so you don’t need to worry about a thing. Just meet us there… and if you think of anything we can do, let us know.”
“Thanks.” I push away the cup of ice cream I haven’t even touched. “If they need anything, text me and I’ll call right back. Doesn’t matter what time.”
“Daddy?” Edie interrupts.
“Yeah, bunny?”
“I need to get something from our house.”
“What do you need?”
“Some shoes.”
“Memi got your dresses and shoes, right?” I ask. “I thought you went shopping.”
“They’re Mama’s shoes.”
I frown at her and shake my head. “That’s been handled.” I force a cough, an attempt to disguise the urge to cry at the thought of Shea and Coley picking out clothes for her. I didn’t want them to touch a thing, and yet I knew someone needed to take care of tasks that I was completely unable to do. I knew my sisters-in-law would be respectful of Livvy’s things and pick out something that she loved to wear.
They’d asked me if I had any preference. I didn’t, because I wasn’t certain I’d even be able to look upon her at the viewing. It wouldn’t matter to me anyway because she looked beautiful–always. She was gorgeous the last time I saw her alive: her hair messy, her face clean of makeup, dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and cotton pants with an e
lastic waistband that adjusted to her growing belly.
“They’re not for her. She said I could have a pair of her shoes.”
“Sweetie, you can’t fit into her shoes yet.”
“Daddy…” She rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in frustration. I await her rebuttal patiently. “Remember the shoes she has with the ribbons that tied around her ankles?”
“The blue ones.” I remember them well. She’d worn them to Trey’s birthday party. I took them off her that night, her back too sore to bend over all the way to untie them. “I do.”
“Those shoes. I want to take the ribbons from them and put them in our hair tomorrow.” She looks at her little sister. “They’ll look pretty with our dresses… and we’ll have a little piece of Mama with us all day. Please?”
I smile at her eager expression. “Of course.” I look at Matty with instructions. “The doorman will let you up… just you, though, okay? Not the girls.”
“I can draw you a picture of the shoes, Uncle Matty,” Edie adds.
“I can handle that.”
“Thanks. Girls, your uncles are going to take you to that nail place tonight… pick something simple, but colorful, okay? Nothing too out there. Wils, I’m talking to you.” I remember the time she came home with cat faces drawn on each of her fingernails.
“I’ll pick a color for her,” Edie assures me, and Willow surprisingly doesn’t argue with the offer.
“Okay. Daddy needs to get back upstairs. Be good for your uncles. Go to bed when they tell you to, okay? And I don’t want you going to Max and Callen’s. Not tonight. Understood?”
