by Mary Ramsey
I would never see my family again, but I would also never feel pain again. I would never cough again. Never wake up with a fever or a headache—
“Hey,” said a voice. “You made a promise to me, to take care of my girls.”
“Diego?” I could see a blurry figure standing in the shadows. “Are you dead?”
He took a step closer, coming out of the gloom, emerging in white t-shirt and sweatpants.
I got up, the shadows still wrapped around my upper body, and reached for him. As I touched his arm, numbers appeared where his tattoos used to be. “Where are you? Where is your body?”
“That’s complicated. You need to stay with your family right now, then get better and make it to Seattle.”
I looked up at the sky. “I’m just so tired.”
Emily hugged my waist. “I’m sorry. You deserve peace. But I know you love Daddy, and you would never want to see my mommy sad. I need you to stay with them.”
“Please tell me what to look for?”
She turned her head to the side, like an owl. “Don’t look, listen.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on Johnny. My only comfort in dying had been the fact that he’d be there to pick up the pieces. I needed to know my friend would be okay. After a moment, I could hear the sounds of the hospital: beeping monitors, the television, and then Johnny’s voice.
“Your daddy’s going be back real soon, Shauna. We just have to believe in him.”
“Then we can give him a cupcake?”
“I know your daddy will love the chocolate cupcakes we baked together.”
I opened my eyes. It was a little after eight at night. Johnny was holding Shauna as Jen slept. Shauna was still in her school uniform, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders.
Eight o’clock … Sara wouldn’t be off of work for another hour. I tapped the bed’s metal railing to get Johnny’s attention.
Johnny looked over and immediately slammed on the call button. “Sean’s awake!” He gave my girl a broad grin. “See? I was right. Your daddy wouldn’t miss your birthday.”
Jayden arrived with my nurse and Dr. Rocca. Dr. Rocca smiled sweetly. “Hello Sean, are you ready to try breathing on your own?”
I nodded. This was the moment of truth. Dr. Rocca turned her attention to Shauna. “This can be a little painful. Could you step out with your Uncle a moment or two?”
Johnny lifted her up. “Come on, baby girl. Let’s go to the canteen. Maybe we can smuggle in a little junk food.”
The tube removal hurt like fuck. No two ways about it. I slept a little while, and woke to see Johnny reasoning with Shauna, who was trying to climb into the bed with me.
“Hon, that’s not allowed.”
“I’ll be careful of his ports.”
“I know you will, but that’s not the only issue. The nurse will be in throughout the night to check his vitals, and we don’t want him getting an infection, either. But hey, look …” He sat down on the same blue chair next to my bed, pulling it right up close so Shauna could rest her face and shoulders on the edge of the mattress. “Are you comfortable?”
Shauna nodded.
I winked at him, showing my gratitude. The moment was so touching; Johnny was willing to sleep in the uncomfortable chair just so Shauna wouldn’t cry. That alone was worth coming back for.
At around two in the morning, Shauna snuck into my bed, making sure to replace the blanket on Johnny so he wouldn’t be cold.
“Are you awake?” she asked.
I chuckled. “Just a little cuddle, okay? We’ll all catch hell if the nurse comes back.”
She nodded and, yeah, I wished I could grab her and not let go too. I managed to take her hand. “I’m sorry for ruining your birthday. How about this— to make it up to you, we’ll go to Seattle, go camping, and visit Great-Grandma?”
She smiled. “You promise?”
I nodded. “I promise I’ll make it happen.”
If Seattle truly held the answer to where Diego was, I had to at least try.
Eighteen
In my months of post-op physical therapy, I truly learned the importance of a fully functioning heart. Even for someone with CF lungs and a broken brain, the newly repaired tissue meant new strength, which would come in handy for our road trip.
With Johnny and Shauna on spring break, and Sara able to get four days of vacation, my family set off in the RV to Seattle, taking the six-hour scenic drive along the beautiful coastline. There was plenty of time, since Jen’s grandmother wasn’t expecting us until the next day. We made stops for meals, photos and, of course, gas. The RV required an unholy amount of fuel.
When we finally made it to Washington, Johnny parked the RV in a nearby park for forty dollars a day. Navigating the city of streets in what was essentially a bus did not appeal to any of the licensed drivers. Arriving just after seven at night, we set up camp, Johnny cooking dinner under the stars.
I’d just gotten settled when Shauna let out a terrified scream. I stood up out of my folding chair to investigate, but my daughter ran straight into my arms. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I wanted to get a cheese stick out of the fridge.”
Jen shouted from the kitchen. “Johnny, why are there live lobsters in our fridge?”
“Ah.” I chuckled, stroking Shauna’s hair.
Johnny was outside setting up his grill. “I picked them up at a farmer’s market during out last fueling stop. I’m planning on parboiling them, and then finishing them on the grill with chili oil and grilled lemons.”
“Yucky,” Shauna cried.
“But while the coals heat up, we can let them run around a bit,” Johnny suggested. “Anyone want a beer?”
“Just bring out the whole cooler,” Sara said from her seat next to mine.
She and I had been getting ready to watch a movie on her laptop. I motioned for Shauna to sit on my lap. Thankfully I’d been the one to pick out the movie—the story of a chef who gave up his position at a posh restaurant to run a food truck with his family.
Johnny came out with the cooler in one arm and the container of lobsters in the other.
“Wait, you were serious?” I glared at him as Shauna buried her face in my shoulder. I did not see this ending well.
Johnny opened the tub, letting the three lobsters slowly emerge. They still had rubber bands around their claws as he picked up one and brought it to Shauna. “See? They’re gentle.”
It took half an hour for the coals to fully ignite, and in that time the supply of beer and wine coolers became drastically reduced. Sara’s laptop was put away as we became more and more fascinated with the lobsters. First, we did lobster racing; Sara and Johnny set up an enclosed track using rocks and twigs, and Shauna placed the lobsters at the starting line. I sat in my chair, snapping photos with my phone. Racing the lobsters took a few tries as the giant bugs mainly tried to climb out.
Next was trying to determine the gender of the lobsters to assign appropriate names. A bad idea, in hindsight. No one in the group knew anything about lobster anatomy, so the lobsters were assigned neutral names: Clippie, Thorny, and Puppy. Puppy was Shauna’s idea; her lobster crawled on her arm, its tiny eyes looking at her. She was no longer grossed out or afraid.
The same could not be said for Jen.
“Johnny, could you please stop encouraging her to let that thing crawl up her arm?”
“No big deal, playtime’s almost over,” he said, collecting the lobsters.
“Can I play with him later?” Shauna asked.
“Uh …” Johnny looked trapped, Puppy in one hand and Clippie in the other.
I scooped Shauna up in my arms. “Johnny, do us all a favor—whatever comes out of that kitchen had better not look anything like what went in.”
Johnny nodded. He would prep, and I would work my magic to make my little girl okay with the circle of life.
We moved into the shadow of the RV and Jen was just behind us in the kitchen, making her part of the meal: a
salad with roasted root vegetables and sourdough bread. While that cooked, taking up the oven, she was sautéing a few chicken thighs in a spicy tomato sauce on the stove top. Given how amazing her chicken smelled, I was considering skipping the lobster altogether.
Johnny was less than pleased. “You’re making chicken? Really, Jen?”
“Yeah, for those of us who don’t eat sea-bug meat.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Shauna, what if I got a real puppy?”
Sara looked at me. “Why would you get a real puppy?”
“Not a puppy, per se. A dog. Actually, I was thinking of a service dog.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Sara said, taking a long sip of her beer. She burped. Giggled. “No one here is allergic to dogs, right?”
She was way too drunk for her own good, but it was actually kinda fun to see that side of Sara again.
I turned my head to check in on Johnny.
“Jen …” he said softly.
“What?” Jen came face to face with the severed lobster heads on Johnny’s hand, being jiggled around like demented puppets. Thankfully Shauna had been looking in the opposite direction.
“We-love-you,” Johnny said in an alien-robot voice.
Jen turned back to her chicken, stirring angrily. “Remind me to tell your wife to punch you in the balls.”
The lobster was, of course, delicious, Shauna even tried some.
The next day we took a bus into the city, and from there we took public transportation to the assisted living facility where Jen’s grandmother lived. After Jen moved out, Maria Rosa didn’t feel like keeping her apartment.
Maria Rosa came to meet us in a motorized wheelchair. “Hello, Jen.”
Jen hugged her tightly. “I miss you.”
We went to her room, which was a kind of cross between a hospital room and a studio apartment. Doctors and nurses were available at all times, but the residents were free to come and go as they pleased. Once we were settled, Shauna jumped into her great-grandma’s arms.
“Little Shauna, you’ve gotten so tall,” Maria said with a smile. “How do you like your new school?”
“It’s great!”
I sat back, relaxing, as Shauna told her all about her classmates. A lot of it Maria knew already, since Jen and her grandma kept in touch via email. The old woman had always been computer savvy. Maria knew all about my career, the move to Portland, the heart operation, and how Shauna had started school again.
“Have you heard from Diego?” I asked when the topic of Lauren’s mom’s swimming pool had come to a natural finish.
Maria turned to Johnny. “I remember you from Jen’s wedding. Quite the chef, she tells me. So, you’ll be a good judge of pastries. There’s a lovely bakery across the street that I never make it to. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking Shauna there to pick up some treats.” It was clear she had news that was not appropriate for Shauna to hear. “I have a little money in my purse.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but I wouldn’t dream of taking your money.”
Shauna was already out the door and he and Sara had to run to catch up.
When the door closed, Maria took Jen’s hand. “Your father’s in prison.”
“What … why? When?
If the email about the cancer clinic had been a cover-up, then I had a good idea of when. I was much more curious about why. Why, in particular, Maria and Diego had both kept the truth from Jen all this time.
“He killed Richard Cross.” She looked at Jen for any kind of reaction, but Jen could only blink.
I was sitting too far back to take Jen’s other hand. She still had nightmares about the guy who’d fucked her, beaten her, and then left her on her parents’ lawn before driving away.
“I know what that boy did to you, Jen,” Maria went on gently. “The fact that your mother accepted a payout in lieu of a trial made me sick.”
“But Richie Cross is in Michigan,” I said. “I read somewhere he made the NCAA team.”
Jen woke up enough to shoot me an exasperated look. “That was how many years ago? He probably went back home to North Dakota after college to work for his billionaire father.”
Maria Rosa nodded. “He was lined up to work at White Creek’s athletic department after receiving his degree in kinesiology.”
I laughed in disbelief. “He was going to be a gym teacher at our old high school?”
“A serial rapist gym teacher,” Jen muttered, but looked back at her grandma, steadying herself for the details.
“After your mother passed, your father started doing a lot more with the church, and joined their softball team. He was on his way home from a game when he stopped at White Co for some frozen dinners and something to drink. That was when Diego saw Richard Cross hanging out with the cashier while buying a pack of smokes.”
While Maria sipped a little water, I tried remembering the layout of that place. It was a popular stop-off on the road leading out of the state, mostly catering to the farmers living in the middle of nowhere.
“Richie wore a red University of Michigan shirt and was yammering at Todd White—who was acting as manager that day—about never making it out of his father’s shop. Anyway, Todd was getting a little pissed and asked why Richie was so happy about being back in North Dakota … maybe because he was escaping to go to college.” Maria glanced out of the window, gathering herself a little. “According to Diego’s deposition papers, Richie told Todd that his job at White Creek was like having a life-time supply of teenage pussy.”
“I believe it,” I said. That asshole hadn’t changed in the slightest.
“Diego had been standing behind him the entire time, but Richie passed right by without even a second glance. Diego said that red mist just descended. He was right back to the day that that bastard dumped Jen’s unconscious body on the lawn like garbage. Out in the parking lot, Diego chugged a bunch of his vodka. He claimed he only wanted to stop the pain and try to calm down some. He was going to maybe sleep in his truck and drive home the next day, but the alcohol caught up with him. And then Richie saw him. Made the mistake of goading him. Diego grabbed his baseball bat, and … well.”
I watched as Maria filled a glass with water. “Were there witnesses?”
“Unfortunately,” she said with a sigh. “But I’m not even sure how many were actual witnesses and how many Richie’s father paid off. So many people came forward, claiming Richie had been begging for his life.”
“I totally picture that.”
Jen glared in my direction. “Sean!”
“I’m just saying I could totally see him not throwing a punch.”
“You would have wanted Richie to punch my father?”
“Enough!” Maria shouted, to get us back on track. “Diego made things easier for the sheriff in that he didn’t walk away from the scene. When it was all over, he sat beside the body until he was taken into custody. I believe that helped convince the DA to offer a plea deal for manslaughter.”
“A plea deal?” Jen asked.
“Your father received ten years with the possibility of parole.”
“That’s not too bad,” I said out loud. Ten was better than twenty or life.
“Ten years?” Jen cried. “The next time he sees Shauna she’ll be in high school.”
“Sorry,” I quickly replied. I couldn’t really expect her to look at the bigger picture right away.
“Needless to say,” Maria went on, “Nathan Cross was furious that Diego took a plea. Diego had murdered his only child and, for the brutality of the crime, Diego should have gotten life in prison. I fear he’s using his influence to make Diego’s life in prison far more difficult than it has to be, but I have no way to prove such allegations. Anyway, he was angrier than anything else that he couldn’t push the case to trial and force a worse sentence. If he had, then Richie’s assault on my Jen would’ve come to light. And God only knows what other Cross family secrets would’ve been forced into the open.”
There wa
s a knock, and Johnny came in with Sara, Shauna, and a box of pastries. Jen got up and walked to the kitchen.
“Why is Mommy crying?” Shauna asked, already eating a cookie.
“Mommy just needs some water.”
As if on cue, the phone rang. Maria picked up the receiver. “Yes, I’ll accept the call.”
Jen turned at the sink. We both knew what a collect call meant. Maria chose to let Shauna talk to Diego on speaker first while Jen composed herself. It was awkward listening to them, particularly as Diego tried skirting the issue about whether he was still supposed to be sick or not.
When they were done, Jen motioned for me to take the phone. I made the call private again. I caught up with Diego a little, and was about to give my wife the handset when Diego asked me if I’d heard from Remy.
I was unsure what to say. Diego was already suffering, but then again, he was the one who walked out on Remy. I decided to go with the truth. “He showed up in Portland a while back. He was really messed up. Uncle Jayden sent him to a rehab facility, but after a month he just walked away.”
“That news truly saddens my heart.”
“I need to ask: why did you leave him? Why did you go back to Suzanna?”
“Remy never read the letter I gave him. I didn’t return to Suzanna, but I wanted to do right by her while she was dying. We were going to live together for a while with the understanding that I would still maintain a relationship with Remy.”
Jeez. Talk about optimistic. “Suzanna was okay with the idea of sharing you with Remy?”
“The plan was to work towards a peaceful mediation and, then, once she’d passed, Remy and I would leave the state. But then Remy disappeared. I looked everywhere. I truly loved Remy, but when he left, Suzanna was all I had.”
“Perhaps you should’ve talked through your plan with Remy in detail instead of leaving him a damn letter to read.”
“Well, it wasn’t the first time I’d returned to Suzanna, was it?” Diego chuckled sadly. “If I’d told him I was seeing my wife to negotiate a calm, civil separation, he would have no choice but to try and stop me. I was trying to avoid an argument.”
