First Class Farewell

by Aj Harmon

  “You’re married to an old man,” Mark chuckled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “I sound like a bowl of Rice Krispies when I move.”

  “I’ll take some snap, crackle and pop,” Katy grinned. “A hot shower will warm up those joints. I’ll even join you.”

  “Well, that’s an offer I’m not going to refuse,” Mark replied. “Get your ass out of bed and go and start the water then, woman!”

  Katy threw her head back and laughed loudly. “If you want me to do your bidding, that’s definitely the wrong way to go about it.”

  Mark grinned. “How about this then? Once the water is warm and my muscles are loosened, I’ll make you scream with pleasure,” he said with a low growl.

  “That, my dear husband, will get me out of bed and starting the shower,” she giggled as she leapt from the bed and ran to the bathroom.

  *****

  Even though they had recently celebrated their eighth wedding anniversary, Mark and Katy still acted like newlyweds. They held hands constantly and Mark was not afraid to show public displays of affection with his wife. They were very much in love and deeply committed to one another and they still enjoyed spending time together. The day’s itinerary confirmed that fact.

  After a bowl of cereal and a piece of whole wheat toast, they loaded a picnic basket into the trunk of their car, strapped their bikes onto the roof rack and left the city for a bike trail in Connecticut. The drive took only about an hour and a half and then they had helmets on and they were off. The morning air was still a tad cool but the exercise put color in their cheeks as they climbed hills and whizzed down the other side. After a couple of hours of wondrous fun, they arrived back at the car. With a blanket and their lunch, under a tall tree made a perfect spot for a cozy picnic.

  Bottles of cold water provided instant relief for their parched throats and with her legs crossed, Katy proceeded to serve lunch. Broccoli salad and hummus with pita chips were first out of the basket, followed by croissants filled with creamy chicken salad. Mark uncorked the bottle of Pino Grigio and Katy unwrapped the glasses wrapped in linen napkins for their protection.

  As they ate, they recalled their favorite parts of the trail they’d just ridden and reviewed the map and decided on the trail they would take after lunch. They’d picked the hardest one for their first ride and would take on one not nearly as difficult for their afternoon exercise before heading back to the city and dinner at The Bourbon.

  “You can go in front this time,” Mark said as he scooped a blob of the smooth hummus onto a chip.

  “Okay,” she replied.

  “I want to watch your ass,” he grinned and winked.

  Katy smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. She poured some more wine in their glasses and then re-corked the bottle and laid it in the bottom of the wicker basket. “You can watch my ass anytime.”

  “I know,” Mark said. “And I do.”

  Katy chuckled and continued repacking the basket. Mark’s cell phone rang and he frowned as he read the caller’s name.

  “I’ll try to make it brief,” he said as he answered. Saying hello to Ryan, the company’s CFO, Mark scrambled to his feet and wandered off leaving Katy to lie back on the blanket and watch the leaves rustle in the slight breeze overhead. She closed her eyes, her husband’s faint voice and the sound of the trees relaxing her.

  When she reopened her eyes, Mark was snuggled next to her, breathing softly. She’d fallen asleep…and so had he. The wine and the energetic bike ride had allowed her to drift off without her even realizing it. Katy watched the fluffy white clouds in the sky as they drifted slowly, changing shape. So much for another ride, she smiled, although it had been a wonderful way to spend the afternoon, enjoying the sun and the trees.

  She glanced at her watch and was shocked to see that she’d slept for an hour, but she didn’t move. She remained in the safety and comfort of her husband’s arms and enjoyed the moment.

  On the ride back to the city, thirty minutes later, Mark had admitted that she’d looked so peaceful when he returned to her after finishing his phone call that he didn’t have the heart to wake her, although he never imagined that he’d fall asleep, too.

  “It’s a sign of old age,” he muttered.

  Katy laughed. They were in the throes of middle age, of that she couldn’t deny. But they were young middle-aged, if there were such a thing. She refused to grow old before her time. Just as she was about to inform her husband that they still had many, many years before they reached the age of old, Mark’s phone starting buzzing again. He pulled it from the console of the car and read Matt’s name. He handed Katy the phone and she answered the call.

  “Hey, Matt,” she smiled as she answered. “He’s driving but I can put you on speaker.”

  Mark stopped the car at the red light after turning off the Henry Hudson Parkway. He watched Katy’s expression change, and when she said, “we’ll be right there,” his heart stopped for a moment. This wasn’t going to be good.

  4.

  Andrew & Rory

  They’d met at a party, both invited by a mutual friend. They’d attended the same university in Seattle but didn’t meet until a month before graduation. It wasn’t love at first sight. In fact, after that night, they didn’t see each other again for five years, when once again, they were both invited to a party by a mutual friend, this time in New York City.

  Andrew was establishing himself as a successful stock broker, working for a major powerhouse in the business. Rory, now an attorney, left the west coast and the family who no longer accepted him for being an openly gay man, and moved as far away as possible. He’d hoped New York would be a good fit and after taking another bar prep course, and another bar exam, he found himself working in a small law firm and building his reputation as an excellent attorney.

  The party was for a mutual friend who had recently been declared cancer free and was throwing a bash that rivalled that of New Years’ Eve. Andrew and Rory were surprised to come face to face at the bar. They ended up spending most of the night talking and getting to know each other and as the saying goes, the rest was history. Now, well over twenty years later, they were married with two children and praying a third would grace their family soon.

  “There is no way in hell you are leaving the house dressed like that!” Rory exclaimed as Isabelle arrived for breakfast.

  “What’s wrong with it?” she asked.

  Andrew sighed, knowing that arguing with their eight year old daughter was an uphill battle and neither side ever won. “Father James will not allow the uniform to be…to be changed.”

  Isabelle had somehow shortened her pleated grey skirt, and she hadn’t done it well, but Andrew had to give her an A for effort.

  “What did you do?” Rory asked and lifted the hem to find an ugly mess of masking tape barely holding the new hem in place. “Oh, no!” he shook his head. “It’s all coming off. And undo that ridiculous knot in your shirt.”

  “But all the girls do it,” she whined.

  “All the girls where?” Andrew asked.

  “On TV,” she shrugged.

  “Good grief,” Rory muttered. “Masking tape off! Shirt untied and tucked in, and take the sneakers off and put on your black shoes.”

  “Fine!” she pouted. “When can I start wearing makeup?”

  Andrew ran his hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. “You are a beautiful girl. You don’t need to muddy up your face with that junk.”

  “You sound just like Grandma,” she sighed.

  “Oh God,” Andrew muttered.

  At that moment, Joseph decided he didn’t want the cereal on the table and threw it on the floor. Rory slid from his chair and knelt in front of their five year old son and tenderly took his hand and caressed his arm. Massage always helped Joseph to calm down. He rarely spoke but managed to make his feelings known. Rory and Tilly, their nanny, were the only ones that were able to soothe him once a tantrum began. The two fathers had beco
me experts on autism and Joseph had in fact blossomed in their home.

  Joseph had come to the Lathem-Jeffers home when he was eighteen months old. A ward of the state, his parents had signed away all parental rights when they were unable to control his outbursts and tantrums. He’d been in foster care for a little over three months when Rory heard about him at a luncheon when he overheard another attorney talking about the sad situation. Without telling Andrew, he’d contacted the Department of Child Services and had even questioned them on the possibility of adoption. Then, tactfully and cautiously, he’d broached the subject with Andrew one evening when the conversation had drifted to adding another child to their family. As expected, Andrew was wary of taking on a child with such special needs, but Rory had pleaded the case well, being an exceptional litigator.

  “The boy needs love and we have that in abundance. He needs security and we can offer that, too. He needs someone with resources to secure the best therapists and schools available and we can also do that. We have all he needs. I think we should meet him and see how it goes.”

  And so they did. It took almost an hour before Joseph would approach them, but after he had, he grabbed onto Rory’s leg and refused to let go. There was no way Andrew could deny the bond between father and son that was already forming. It only took a couple of weeks before Joseph was placed with his new family, as they had already completed the foster parent licensing process before they adopted Isabelle. But it took several weeks before Joseph warmed up to Andrew, and once he had there was no doubt they loved each other unconditionally. It was Rory however, that was able to stop the tantrums before they started, at least some of the time.

  Now at five years old, in the care of his loving parents for over three years, amazing progress was being made every day. The cereal box being knocked from the table was no longer accompanied by screaming and flailing limbs. It was just the box being thrown to the floor. Progress indeed.

  As Rory rubbed Joseph’s arm and shoulders, Andrew jumped up and opened the cupboard that held the boxes of cereal. “This one?” he asked. Joseph didn’t react. “How about this one?” Andrew pulled another box from the shelf. Again, no reaction. As Andrew pulled the third box out, Joseph wiggled and then smiled. “Lucky Charms it is,” he grinned and kissed Joseph on the cheek as he poured the cereal into his bowl. The two men looked at each other and smiled. Breakfast could now begin.

  *****

  “Joseph, I need you to get in the car so we can go to school. Tilly will bring you home in a taxi.” Rory tried to keep his voice calm and even. The problem was they had this conversation every morning.

  Taxis were Joseph’s favorite form of transportation. He hated the subway, refusing to even go down the steps. Busses were absolutely out of the question. Their car was tolerable but taxis were preferred.

  “Please?” Rory pleaded. “We have to get you to school. Mrs. Adams is waiting for you.”

  Joseph, visibly irritated they weren’t going in a taxi, finally climbed into the back seat and into his booster seat. With a sigh, Rory strapped him in and checked Isabelle’s seatbelt before climbing into the driver’s seat and setting off for St. Luke’s.

  There were five kids in Joseph’s class, all autistic. There was one teacher, Mrs. Adams, and two aides. The school would be hiring another aide especially for Joseph when he entered 1st grade in the fall. The donation that Andrew and Rory made each year would be going to pay their salary so Father James had even offered them a place on the interview panel, to which they readily agreed. Andrew was now on the school board. He had taken his mother’s place when she’d finally resigned after thirty years, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to sit in on interviews.

  As Rory pulled up in front of the school, he double parked and ran around to help Joseph from the car. One of the aides was waiting for him and Joseph went with her after giving his dad a big hug and a wet kiss on the lips. Rory grinned as he wiped his mouth and waved to Isabelle as she headed into the brick building. She didn’t return the wave, obviously still upset at the hem of her skirt being lowered back to its original length. Rory chuckled to himself as he jumped back into the car and drove to his office.

  He was incredibly fortunate to scale back his hours now that he was a father. He and Andrew treated their professional lives equally, neither job was more important than the other. It was imperative that they both were hands-on fathers. They decided from the very beginning that they would not leave the raising of any children they had to someone else. Andrew left for work first, leaving Rory to get the kids to school. Tilly, their nanny, picked up Joseph at school and brought him home, in a taxi. She worked with him on muscle control and music therapy, along with basic things like colors and numbers. Andrew left work first and picked up Isabelle on his way home. Then Rory met them in time for dinner and Tilly went home.

  They had a housekeeper who made them dinner on the weekdays as neither Andrew nor Rory could cook. Their life before children consisted of eating out every night, but that was no longer an option. A nice home cooked meal as they all sat around the table was the preferred method and Agnes was an angel sent by God himself to their family. She took care of them like they were her own family.

  This particular Thursday went just as any other day did. Andrew left for work. The kids were dropped off at school. Tilly left a message with his secretary when they arrived home safely just after one o’clock. Andrew left work at three and took a cab to St. Luke’s and picked up Isabelle who was sitting on the brick wall as she always did. On the ride home they talked about what had happened at school, Isabelle chatting away like normal. It wasn’t until they arrived home and were all sitting at the table having some cookies and milk that Agnes had made earlier in the afternoon, when it all changed.

  The phone rang. It was Matt.

  5.

  David & Lindsey

  Stepping off the plane at La Guardia International Airport with two very cranky children was not a great start to the day. Rachel, aged thirteen months, was desperately tired but refused to go to sleep. Lindsey had sung to her softly, given her the dreaded pacifier, tried massaging her, and even graciously accepted the lavender oil from a nearby passenger to rub on her hands…all to no avail. She was a stubborn little thing. Very much like her mother. Amanda, aged four, tucked safely in her daddy’s arms, was also tired, but being more like her father, she just slumped in his arms and whined…a little.

  After passing through immigration, they marched for miles to the baggage claim and waited, somewhat impatiently, for their luggage.

  They’d spent the last ten days in Italy. Lindsey loved to experience the culture and food there, and David the art. They both wanted to expose their daughters to their passions and decided to include them in their vacation, even though Maureen had offered multiple times to have the girls stay with her. It was the first time they’d traveled with the girls and as the trip neared the end, Lindsey had questioned her decision several times, but now that they were back in New York, she was glad they’d gone as a family.

  After her second daughter was born, David and Lindsey had decided that they needed to reprioritize their life. Lindsey had scaled back at the restaurants, still holding the title of Executive Chef, but with more of an advisory, mentoring role. She spent a few hours at the restaurants each week, but worked on the new menu items in her own kitchen, making it possible for her children to be with her most of the time.

  David had also changed careers. No longer the curator for the Atherton Gallery, he was their top-selling artist. Audrey Atherton had begged and pleaded and whined and pouted until he’d agreed to sell some more pieces. To date, David held the honor of being the artist whose painting had sold for the highest price in the gallery’s history. He now stayed home full-time and painted when the desire hit him. Some days he sequestered himself in his studio and painted for hours. Other days the girls painted with him. And there were even days, and weeks, that he painted nothing, and loved every minute of it. Their hom
e was filled with drawings and paintings of their girls. David and Lindsey’s successful careers meant nothing when compared to their little family.

  Growing up in foster homes, Lindsey took on the role of motherhood with a commitment that at times scared David. But with their second daughter now one year old and the talk of perhaps adding one more soon, as Lindsey’s child-bearing years were coming to a close, she had relaxed a little and was the most loving mother David had ever seen. They were a happy family and delighted in their time together.

  Finally loaded into a cab, they rode into the city and were relieved to get into their building and the girls and all the luggage into their apartment. With Amanda tucked into her bed, with her favorite stuffed animal in the crook of her arm, she was asleep in seconds. Rachel, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with her bedroom. Even stepping through the doorway made her scream.

  “How about a bath?” David smiled as he took his baby girl from Lindsey. “Shall we go play in the tub?”

  Rachel tilted her head to one side and grinned. David kissed his wife and wandered off to the bathroom. Lindsey began dragging the suitcases through to the master bedroom in hopes that at some point during the day she could get them unpacked. She didn’t have to be back in the restaurant until Monday so that gave her four days to get the laundry done and their lives back to normal.

  “I need a vacation,” she sighed as she heaved the girls’ bag onto the bed. “I’m so tired.”

  Their plan had failed…miserably. She’d suggested that they fly home at night and that way the girls would sleep on the plane. It hadn’t worked. It was 6:45 a.m. according the alarm clock next to the bed. Jet lag was going to be a bitch. Of that she was sure.