“I don’t think so.”
Anthony went into the kitchen and stood with Carey and Jimmy as Sam talked to the police.
“Honey, are you sure you’re okay?” Bee was concerned, and I took deep breaths trying to stop my heart from beating so fast.
“I’m fine. I am. I don’t know. Sam and I were standing outside… and I just... I felt something. I don’t know what it was, but something was there. I felt it, Bee! I felt it.” I didn’t know if I was trying to convince her or myself.
Bee had always been one to believe in your gut as she called it. Before she met Anthony, Bee had been in the Air Force, and she told us more than once that listening to her gut saved her life and those with her. So if anyone would understand, I knew she would.
“But you didn’t see anything? Are you sure?” She probed, urging me to think, to try and remember.
I was silent, and I closed my eyes, searching for a reason as to why all my alarms went off. “I’ve got nothing. Something just felt... wrong.”
My dear friend just nodded her head. She understood where I was coming from. She understood instinct.
“Mom?” I heard Sam call from the kitchen.
I took Bee’s hand, and together we went into the kitchen. Anthony was standing with the three boys, and he seemed to shield them with his larger-than-life presence. Even in his PJs. Sam looked concerned, and Carey stood by silently, but Jimmy leaned into Anthony looking lost. Anthony slipped his arms around Jimmy’s frail shoulders and hugged my son to him.
“Mom, the officers have some more questions,” Sam explained.
Before anyone could say anything, Anthony spoke up, “I’m going to take Carey and Jimmy upstairs so we can get a few things. I’ll get the girls. You guys come stay with us tonight.”
He left no room for argument, and I was okay with that. Suddenly, the house I loved felt alien to me. I looked around my kitchen. The tile Brian and I picked out seemed cold and foreign beneath my bare feet. I just nodded to him and mouthed a silent thank you. He sent me a slight smile and herded the younger boys out of the room.
Bee and I sat at the kitchen counter with Sam standing behind us.
“Well, I’m not really sure where to begin,” the younger of the two officers began. Frankly, he seemed to be at a loss.
“Let me help.” I squared my shoulders, determined to be strong, “My name is Julie Klevan. This is my oldest son, Sam, and my friend, Bee. Bee, Amy—another friend of ours—and I had been out back on our patio earlier this evening—”
Bee interjected, “Amy and I got here around 8, and left about 11:30.”
I nodded, agreeing with her timeline. “After they left, I locked the front door, and my son came downstairs to talk to me. We went into the kitchen—”
“And how long were you in the kitchen? Before you went outside, that is?” The officer interrupted.
“I would say about ten minutes at the most. Anyway, Sam noticed that my blender wasn’t on the counter, and I said it was still outside. So I asked him to go get it for me. He opened the door, and that’s when he found the cat.”
The two officers looked at one another, something crossed between them.
“What?” I asked, they were hiding something. “What is it? Did you find something?”
“Ma’am, do you have a dog? A large dog?” The officer asked.
I shook my head, but Sam answered, “No, officer. We had a dog, but he passed about two years ago. Maybe a little over two years.”
“Any of your neighbors have dogs?”
“Well, sure. Bee has a dog,” I answered.
“Ma’am, how big is your dog?” The officer looked to Bee.
Bee laughed. “Oh, my dog’s a little Yorkie, hardly what you would classify as a big dog.”
The officers both shook their heads, seeming to agree with Bee. “No, this dog would be at least the size of a large German Shepherd.”
“How do you know that? What’s out there?” I was confused.
“Well, ma’am. I work with the K-9 unit, and we found prints that are very large. Bigger than anything I’ve seen.”
I was surprised. ”So you’re saying... what? A really big dog dropped off a gift for us?”
Was it as simple as that? A big dog would certainly be something to be scared of. It would trigger what Bee called my gut.
“I don’t know what it was, but there are definitely footprints, or rather paw prints in your yard.”
Realistically, I knew the officers weren’t trying to scare me, but a cold chill ran down my spine. Bee caught it and took my hand.
“Well, thanks, officers. If you’re goal was to scare us, you did a bang up job.” Sam couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
I turned to him and shot him a look. He looked down bashfully and kept his mouth shut.
I cleared my throat. “Well, officers. What’s next?”
“I called in animal control. They are going to come and pick up the... umm... the body,” the older officer finally spoke, “and then in the morning I would like them to come back and take a look at those prints.”
I nodded. Made sense. “And how long will this take?” I looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was already after 1.
“I know you’re tired, ma’am, and I’m sorry, but this is really weird.”
Weird? Really? Who did they send to my house?
Anthony came back into the kitchen hearing a bit of the conversation. “Sam, why don’t you take Jimmy, Carey, and the girls to our place? I’ll stay with the officers until animal control gets here, and then I’ll lock up and be home. That’s okay, right, officers?”
It’s funny, but it didn’t really sound like Anthony was asking permission. The officers gave us the okay to head down to Bee and Anthony’s house. Sam and I nodded and walked into the family room to see Carey holding a sleeping Jessie, and Jimmy sitting with Maggie on the couch. The boys nodded at me, and I hurried to the stairs, and then up to my room to get a few things.
I opened the door to my room and stood there for a minute, suddenly confused. What the hell was going on? I shook the cobwebs off and grabbed a duffel bag from the floor of the closet. I threw in a pair of clothes and a nightshirt and ran into the bathroom to get my toothbrush. Suddenly, I was just anxious to get out of the house. I zipped up my bag and looked around the room. Even after Brian died, the room was my sanctuary. When I was in there, I felt safe. The wallpaper I had fussed at Brian to put up. The rug we searched for months to find. The sheets that Brian insisted I buy because they were soft. Suddenly, everything just felt off, like I walked into someone’s idea of what my bedroom should look like.
If Brian was around, I wouldn’t be so scared. I wouldn’t feel like the best thing to do was to take the kids and go to our friends’ house. But something felt off, and I couldn’t shake the feeling.
I was surprised to feel a sudden flash of anger shoot up. If you hadn’t gone for that fucking run!
* * *
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.
Chapter 10
“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.
Chapter 11
“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 pick
ed 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.”
Lost Page 4
