One Last Fight

by Brenda Kennedy

  “It’s high up here,” Chelsea corrects.

  “I’ll see you on Wednesday?” I ask.

  “Yep, after school.” She hugs me first and I just want to hold her forever. I want to squeeze her tight, but I hug her gently, instead. I want to tell her I love her, but I’m afraid of frightening her.

  “I’ll see you on Wednesday, thank you for staying,” I say instead.

  “Thank you, I had fun,” she says as I put her down.

  Leah hugs her next and Caden looks up at me. I bend down and pick him up, too. He giggles about being tall as the sky. I hug him and thank him for coming. He hugs me back and pats my back with his tiny hand. I think that I wouldn’t mind keeping him on Wednesday. I also believe that having a son would be nice. Leah would never agree on having another child so soon. I remember she said, “You’re carrying the next one,” and I shudder. I don’t think I’ll be sharing my thoughts of having a son with her anytime soon.

  On Monday, I go for my morning run and then I take Leah to work. Mom is keeping Gracie at home today. Sue has a doctor’s appointment. We figured Gracie had enough excitement this weekend and some time at home will be good for her.

  “If you need me, you know where to find me.” I look at Leah and smile.

  “I think I can find my way out the door and down the sidewalk,” she giggles.

  “Lunch together at noon?” I ask.

  “Sounds good, this might work out after all.”

  I set the bistro tables out on the sidewalk, grab four cups of coffee, and head over to my work gym. Since everything is already set up, we decide to start having my workouts there. It works out very well for me.

  When I walk in, Gus is already there. I look on the walls and they are decorated with framed posters. Photos of me and other boxers taken during training times and/or during fights. The walls are decorated with live-action photos. Not just of cheap posters, but professionally framed poster-size pictures.

  I slowly walk around and look at all of the photos of boxers who have been champions or who should have been champions. Some boxers are fictional. Great boxers like Muhammad Ali, Mike Tyson, Floyd Mayweather, Jr., George Foreman, Evander Holyfield, Sugar Ray Tiger, and Rocky Balboa grace the walls.

  “Do you like it?”

  I turn around and Leah is standing there with Dad, Tim, and Gus. “Did you do this?” I think I’m in shock.

  “I just framed them. These guys hung them up.”

  I want to look at Leah, but I can’t take my eyes off the pictures. Upon closer inspection, I see that the images are all autographed and personalized to me. “How did you do this, Leah?”

  “I know someone who knows someone, and a few emails and a few days later, we have some decorations for your walls.”

  When I don’t say anything, she says, “You don’t like it.”

  “I do like it. This is so amazing. How did you get everyone to personally autograph them?” These were nice without the signatures, but with them all signed, it makes it so much more personal, meaningful.

  “I just asked them. I told them what you had planned after retirement, and they were more than happy to contribute.” Leah walks into the room and stands beside me. “I saved all of their emails, and they all had very nice things to say about you.”

  I look down at her and kiss her. “Thank you. This is incredible.”

  “This isn’t all of them. I still have several more to frame and hang.”

  “Do you want the big news?” Dad asks.

  “There’s more?”

  “Most of these guys,” Dad says looking at the pictures, “will be here for your grand opening.”

  “Really?” I ask.

  “I had to promise them that you’ll sign something for them once you win the championship fight on May 1st.”

  “Assuming I win the championship.” And assuming I can walk and move the day after the fight.

  Leah wraps her arm around me and says, “I have no doubt that you’ll win that fight.”

  Chelsea Sinclair

  We all sit at the table and have snack time with the children. We have milk and Christmas cookies that they decorated at Leah and Bobby’s. Drake isn’t big on sweets, but he eats them and brags about how good they are.

  “I slept in Madison’s bed,” Caden says.

  “You did? Where did you sleep, Madison?” I ask.

  “I slept in my sister’s room.”

  I think she’s talking about Jamie’s room, but she may be talking about Gracie’s. “Why did you do that?”

  “She had a big bed and I like her room. She has nice things.”

  “Did the baby keep you up?”

  “Nope, she was in the next room. I didn’t even hear her wake up at all.”

  I wonder what they thought of Madison sleeping in Jamie’s room? It looks like it’s been untouched since she passed away.

  “What else did you guys do?”

  “We played games and talked,” Caden says.

  Madison says, excitedly, “Leah and I did some Christmas shopping on the computer. We bought Caden something, Daddy, and you something, too.”

  “You bought me something?” Caden asks.

  “Yep, but you can’t open it until Christmas.”

  “Can I play with it?”

  “Caden! Not until Christmas.”

  When the kids go to bed, Drake and I stay up and talk about the children and their visit. “Do you have any reservations about the children going over there?” I ask.

  Drake looks at me and says, “No, none. Do you?”

  “No. I like them.”

  “I do, too. It makes it easier sending Madison over there. What are our plans with Caden on Wednesday, while Madison is visiting them?” he asks.

  “I thought we would do a little shopping, have dinner together, then call and ask them if they would mind keeping her all night and taking her to school the next morning.”

  “You want them to get used to having a school-aged child in the home?”

  “I do. I think they missed out on so much with Jamie. It might be nice for them to do those things with Madison.”

  The next morning while Drake is at work and the children are at school finishing up their last week before Christmas break, I do a little shopping. Caden goes to daycare three days a week. We thought it would be good for him. I go to the little florist across from the cemetery and pick up a small Christmas wreath for Jamie. I go to Yankee Candle outlet and get a few holiday-scented candles for us and a few for Leah. You can’t go wrong with candles. I pick up a few gifts for Drake, Madison, and Caden. I have no idea what to get for Bobby, so I’ll leave Drake and Madison in charge of that.

  I decide to get a deli sandwich and a diet cola and have lunch with my daughter, Jamie. I have been to the cemetery many times before, but never alone. I feel the need to sit with my daughter and talk to her. Sometimes, it’s easier to do that by yourself.

  I reach for a blanket, my lunch, and the wreath before walking the short distance to her gravesite. She has a beautiful tombstone, and it is so sad to see. A child is never supposed to die, especially while the parents are still alive. I remember a story about a Zen master who was supposed to bless the house of a nobleman with a poem. The Zen master wrote, “Grandfather die / Father die / Son die.” The nobleman was outraged until the Zen master explained that it is a blessing for people to grow old and die in the proper order. No child should die before the child’s parents.

  I spread out the red and black plaid blanket and carefully place the Christmas wreath at the base of the tombstone. I remove the angel wreath I put there a few months ago. It looks weathered and worn. I’ll have to remember to replace the wreath every couple months. I never considered what the sun and heat will do to it.

  When the area is cleared of leaves and everything on the gravesite is straightened up, I sit down and have my lunch. I find myself talking to Jamie out loud as if she can hear me. I cry and tell her how much I wish I had a chance to know her. I also t
ell her how much I love her. As Drake says, we don’t need to know her to love her. He’s right.

  I hear a car pull up and I wipe away my tears.

  After a few minutes someone says, “If we’re interrupting, we can come back later.”

  I turn around and see Bobby and Leah walking up to me. “No, you’re not interrupting.” I scoot over and say, “Please join me.” I wipe away the tears on my cheek and try to smile.

  “She’s easy to talk to, isn’t she?” Bobby says, nodding to the tombstone on which is written “Jamie Sue Grether.”

  “She is. She’s an excellent listener.” I look at the monument and I look back to them. “Do you come here for lunch often?” I wonder if I’m not intruding on their time with Jamie.

  “Not often enough,” Leah says.

  Bobby adds, “We try to come for lunch once a week. Leah would eat every meal here if she could.”

  Leah sits down and Bobby places a bouquet of pink roses and a bouquet of wildflowers near the base of the tombstone.

  “Nice wreath,” I say.

  “Thank you. I did a little Christmas shopping this morning, and I wasn’t sure what to get her.”

  “It’s lovely. Robert and I just ordered her a grave blanket from the florist. They said they’ll have it here sometime tomorrow.”

  “Grave blanket?”

  Bobby points to the Spruce Pine woven branches that cover a nearby grave. It is decorated with red and white bows and matching color plastic Christmas bulbs. “It’s our first year ordering her one, but they look to be more popular this year.”

  “Very nice. These are very popular up North in the colder states. I didn’t know that’s what they were called.”

  We talk about Jamie and I say that although I didn’t know her, I miss her. I give a nervous laugh and they seem to understand. They explain that they didn’t know Madison either, but her kidnapping was still very hard on them.

  “You know, Steve’s wife, Sally, came to me in my dream.” I look up from the blanket and then look at the tombstone. “She told me she was waiting on Jamie the day of the accident.” I keep talking and say, “She also told me to talk to Jamie because she could hear me.” I look to Robert and then to Leah. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?”

  “No,” Leah says. “Jamie came to us, too. She told us she had to go, and that her grandma was there waiting on her.”

  I look at Leah and the tears stream down her face. I know she is speaking the truth.

  “We also believe Jamie can hear us. Sadly, it doesn’t make it any easier,” Robert says.

  I say, “She knew she was switched at birth, before we did.”

  “It appears so,” Leah says.

  I ask them if they would mind keeping Madison overnight on Wednesday. I make some excuse that we’ll be out late and I didn’t want to drag Madison out that late on a school night. I’m a terrible liar and even this sounds like a lie to my ears.

  “We’d be glad to,” Leah says.

  “I hate to ask you, but would you mind dropping her off at school the next morning?”

  “No, that won’t be a problem. It’ll be good practice for when Gracie starts school,” Bobby says, smiling at Leah, and Leah nods.

  “Good. Thank you. I need to get going. I still need to get groceries.”

  Chapter Five: Unexpected Fate

  Leah

  On Wednesday Robert and I go right home from work. Madison is coming, and I want to make sure we are ready for her. My heart beats a little faster and I know it’s from the excitement of seeing our daughter.

  I had put dinner in the crockpot this morning before we left for work. I change into a pair of black yoga pants and a lightweight, white cotton hoodie. As soon as I feed Gracie, the doorbell rings. Robert answers it, and Gracie and I wait impatiently for Madison to walk into the house. Gracie kicks and squeals; it’s almost like she knows Madison is coming.

  Madison looks up and smiles at Robert as she walks past him. He looks down and places his overly large hand on her head. She doesn’t have an overnight suitcase like she did the last time. The only thing she has is her book bag. I walk closer to the door to greet Chelsea, Drake, and Caden.

  “Are you guys coming in?” I ask Drake as I look around for Chelsea and Caden.

  “No, they’re not with me,” he says. “Madison, give Daddy a kiss goodbye and be a good girl.”

  I watch as Madison freely and willingly walks over and hugs and kisses Drake. I long for the day that Madison does that to us.

  “Okay, Daddy. I will.”

  “I’ll see you after school tomorrow and I love you.”

  Madison walks away from him. “Call us if you need anything.”

  We have dinner and help Madison with her homework. Gracie lies on the floor on top of a blanket and practices rolling over. Madison, Robert, and I sit on the floor rooting for her. She smiles and laughs.

  “She’s so cute,” Madison says as she squeezes Gracie’s cheeks together.

  Before bed, Madison and Gracie take a bath and Madison insists on wearing pajamas that nearly match Gracie’s pajamas. Robert takes several pictures throughout the evening. Gracie goes to bed first.

  I clean up and think of how wonderful this evening has been — and not just this evening, but my life. After Jamie’s death, I didn’t think I would ever feel like this. Robert, Madison, and I watch a short Christmas movie before bed. I quickly learn that you need a nighttime snack when you watch a movie. Madison and Robert want cookies and milk but agree on apples and peanut butter instead of the cookies.

  When Rudolph is over, Robert and I follow Madison upstairs to bed. When she bypasses her bedroom and walks into Jamie’s bedroom, Robert and I look at each other. She starts to pull the blankets back and Robert asks, “Madison, you don’t like your room?”

  “I do, but I like this room, too.”

  Robert and I shrug our shoulders and smile as we help her to pull back the covers. Madison kneels down on her knees beside the bed, and Robert and I do the same.

  “Dear God,” she begins. “Please bless Mommy and Daddy and my brother, Caden, and my other Mommy and Daddy, and my sister Gracie. Please bless all of my grandmas and grandpas, too. Please bless all of the children in the world and give them love, a house, and food in their bellies. Please kiss and hug my grandma and my sister Jamie. Amen.”

  “Amen,” Robert and I say in unison.

  Once she is in bed, I have a flashback of Jamie lying there. I quickly disregard it. This isn’t Jamie, this is Madison.

  “Do you have everything you need, Princess?” Robert asks.

  “Yep, thank you.”

  I lean in and kiss and hug Madison. “I love you and sweet dreams,” I say. I touch her dark hair lightly. She kisses and hugs me back but doesn’t say that she loves me. That’s all right, I’ll give her time.

  Robert also kisses and hugs her. He doesn’t say that he loves her.

  “If you need anything, we’re right down the hall,” Robert says.

  “Okay, good night.”

  Robert and I go to bed and neither of us sleeps well. When I wake up, Robert isn’t in bed with me. I put my robe on and look down the hallway. He is standing outside of Jamie’s bedroom, watching Madison. I walk up to him and she is sound asleep.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper.

  “Keeping a watchful eye on our daughters.”

  “They’re safe. Come back to bed.”

  Robert walks in and covers her up before he checks on Gracie.

  The next morning we run late getting out of the house. Although I rehearsed it a million times in my head, we were still late. I didn’t anticipate traffic, school buses, and school-aged pedestrians everywhere. Although Leah and Drake told us about the car riders’ drop off and the best way to get there, Robert still messed it up. He stops, parks the car, and laughs. Madison laughs, too. I’m under a little more stress than I want to be. I fail to find humor in any of this.

  “Wait here, I’ll walk her to th
e office. She probably needs a tardy slip.”

  Once she is at school, and we are on our way to work, I call Chelsea and tell her she made it. I also tell her she may have been a tad bit late. She also laughs. Now that the stress is leaving my body, I can see a small amount of humor in it, too.

  I disconnect the call from Chelsea and look to Robert and say, “With some practice, I think we may have a chance of mastering this.”

  “A few more times, we’ll be good.”

  “I was thinking by the time Gracie’s in school we’ll be pros.” I giggle.

  “It was that bad?” He chuckles.

  “It was worse.”

  On Friday Mom calls, wanting us to meet them for dinner. I see Dad every day since he’s been at the shop helping Robert. But I haven’t seen Mom at all this week. Robert and I close up the shop and meet Mom and Dad at St. Armands Circle for dinner.

  When we walk into the restaurant, they are already waiting for us. The restaurant’s lights are already dim and the candles on each table cast a soft glow on the crisp white table linens. Dad stands and Mom remains seated. I kiss Dad and then I bend down to kiss Mom. Mom leans in and kisses me and then she kisses Gracie next. Of course, Gracie does what Gracie does best: squeals and kicks. We all laugh.

  Champagne is on the table, and the server brings over a few different appetizers and sets them on the table.

  “Are we late?” I ask.

  Dad looks at his watch and shakes his head. “No, you’re right on time.”

  I also ask, “Are we celebrating something?”

  “Life,” Mom says with a sad smile.

  I look at Robert and he is already looking at me. It seems like a celebration, but it doesn’t feel like one. Mom’s color is drained from her face and the sparkle that is usually in her eyes has been replaced with a dull, sad look. She smiles, but her smile doesn’t touch her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I demand.

  “Nothing, let’s have some champagne,” Mom insists as she reaches for the bottle of champagne in the ice bucket.