Jake looked with no little disgust at the brownie she'd gingerly placed on her plate and then all but hidden with chocolate syrup and whipped cream. "You're going to eat that?"
Mary demonstrated with her fork exactly that. After the few bites that gave her time to think and sort out her thoughts she continued. Knowing Jake as she did, she knew this had to be important and needed to treat it as such. And hoped he would share with her in the end why he had asked. "I went to Crapo Park a couple of weeks ago." She remembered the smells of all the flowers that were rushing into bloom. "Remember how it used to branch off and one road led to the regular playground and the other to that little amusement park?" At his slow nod, she smiled. They had so many shared memories. "I walked around. I hadn't been there since we were kids even though it had been months since I'd been back."
"Why not?'
"I don't really know. Maybe it was too close for comfort, too many memories there."
Jake just shook his head. "You live in our grandmother's house."
Mary laughed, glad she could make him do the same. "I know. Silly maybe. But the park is different. There's so much there, so many memories with my mother, both my parents really but mostly my mother." She took another bite of her brownie ignoring his snort of disgust. "I just walked around mostly in the area where the amusement park used to be. We loved it there. Mom would go on the rides with us and we had the most wonderful time." She sighed softly. "So many wonderful times." She finished off her brownie, sipped her wine. Even for her the sharing of all these memories was difficult. But she knew how much more so it was for Jake. Knew if he was going to share what was weighing so heavily on him she had to give much the same of herself. "I didn't realize it at the time, I didn't even think of it until later, but the spot where I was standing...when the memories seemed to simply come back to me from out of nowhere..." she looked at him, lifted her hands up in a disbelieving gesture. "I was standing right there in the area where that little roller coaster used to be."
"Gees, Mary. That wasn't a roller coaster." Jake thought back to the structure she spoke of. "I think the highest spot was fifteen feet if it was even that high."
"Be that as it may. I wanted to ride that thing ever since I can remember. Mom would never let me until I was about five or six. And halfway through I wanted off that thing more than you can possibly imagine. I didn't think I was going to get through it. I wouldn't have if my mother hadn't held me as close to her as was possible. I remember burying my face in her and hearing her sing to me. She carried me off that ride I so desperately wanted to go on and never said a word of it again. Never told a soul of my silly fear. I can still feel her heart beat against my cheek, smell her favorite perfume as I battled to keep from throwing up all over her, and I can still hear her voice as she sang softly to keep my mind busy." She looked at him. Needing him to understand all she was sharing, all she'd never shared with anyone else. Memories could never be taken from you if never shared. She knew from experience that once they were shared they could be disputed. Their validity argued. The time and place debated. Your very memory questioned and stripped from you like a cherished dream that never really happened. But only if shared.
When she looked in Jake's face Mary saw understanding and something more that allowed her to continue when she would have stopped. "And as I stood there, for a moment I could smell her." Mary took a breath, remembering that sudden recognition. "I could smell the perfume she always wore. And God, I could literally feel her and for a moment it was like she held me just like when I was little. The way she would hold me close to her like nothing else could touch me and I'd feel safe." She looked at him across her grandmother's tile-topped table. "I don't think anyone ever feels quite as safe as they do when they're children and held in the arms of their mother. And I know in that moment, standing there in that park where the roller coaster used to thrill and terrify, I felt something...someone." She looked at him, eye to eye. "So yes, I believe souls touch. I believe that there is something after life that can still reach out to us. When we need. Maybe when they need. But I believe it. I know it. And I've felt it."
Jake sat quietly. Thinking. Needing something to do, as he had recognized in his cousin as well. He rose and pulled the coffee maker away from the wall so he could pour more water into it. "I was thinking about coming here shortly after Casey did." He saw he’d surprised her with that little tidbit. "I was sitting around fiddling with an idea for another book series. I'd even started on it, just putting outlines down on paper, setting up characters, you know how it goes." He saw her slight nod in acknowledgment out of the corner of his eye when he glanced back over his shoulder in her direction even as he flipped the coffee maker to brew. "I was working on it, dealing with some phone calls about some of Casey's stuff that she wanted to sell, anyway..." he could remember that moment as if it was just moments before. "I don't know if I heard her...felt her, sensed her thoughts. I remember looking up, over in the direction towards the doorway thinking she was somehow there." Caught up in his memories he stared out the kitchen window into the back yard where he'd played as a child with his cousins. But it wasn't those memories that filled his mind. Instead he could still picture the clear image of the woman who’d long been a friend, a good friend, before and after they'd been anything more. "She wasn't there. But I'd heard her. It wasn't until the next day that I found out for certain that..." he stopped, unable to say it, looked at his cousin. "After hearing her voice like I did...it had me worried, freaked me out to be sure. I made a lot of calls, called in favors, set myself up to owe I don't know how many favors to others, trying to track them down. I knew they were on assignment. I kept up with them on a professional level." He poured a cup of coffee for both of them, brought both cups back to the table, set them down with hands that had the slightest tremor. "Someone got back to me the next morning about the bombing, how they'd both been caught up in an unknown situation when unknown rebels were riled up by statements made by an unknown American quoting the alleged statements made by an unknown American Congressman." His hands clenched around the cup. "Statements I later found out were intentionally misquoted to bring about some type of retaliatory action though I doubt they planned on what actually took place and the lives it cost."
"Jake," Mary began, she knew how this story ended and didn't want him to have to relive it once again.
"It took me a while," he talked over her, allowing for no interruption, no shutting down what he needed to say. "Things were a mess over there, nobody knew much of anything which is normal on goods days, and only so much worse on bad." He sucked down the coffee. Knew the night was going to be long anyway and poured himself another cup. "The bombing that killed them, probably on contact, was almost to the minute from what I was able to piece together, as when I thought I heard her. Or whatever it was I heard."
"What did you hear?" Though Mary knew, as a mother she knew.
His head dropped. "Take care of our baby." He looked up at her, grief, overwhelming anguish, and hopeless confusion lining his face. "Just that. Crystal clear as if I'd had headphones on with the music turned to the max. Take care of our baby." He gulped down scorching hot coffee as if it were soothing cool soda. But neither the heat nor the caffeine did much to soothe him. "Then there was this quiet sigh. God knows I heard that sound more than enough times when we'd be working together to know how it sounded and who it belonged to. It was Lizzie's sigh. I can't explain how I know. But even if I questioned myself on hearing the other, I can't question that. It was a sigh of...I don't know, like she was complete, like ..."
"Like she'd done what she needed to," Mary filled in, understanding in a way she knew he couldn't.
Jake just looked at her. Saw understanding and acceptance instead of the skepticism he'd feared. It had always been there, the germ of believing what couldn't be. And as she believed he found it easier to do the same.
"Jake," Mary saw from his expression his thoughts were jumbled. His grief still fresh. "I knew something was
wrong...that something more was bothering you." She gestured to the now empty dish. "I can't tell you if it's intuition, if it's some kind of sensitivity that as a family keeps us...I don't know, tuned in to each other in some unexplainable way. But somehow, over the years, I've just simply known when something's not the way it should be."
"The brownies and wine tonight?" He slowly asked as another thought crept in even as she slowly nodded in acknowledgment. "And when you visited me some twenty years ago minus the brownies and wine?"
"Maybe not brownies and wine but I spent days cooking real food for you and cleaned the scum from almost every surface in your house." She laughed easily at the memory as she hadn't been able to at the time. "But yes, I had concerns about you then, just feelings, that's how it is. Nothing specific. My kids call it my bad vibes connector."
"They would," he said dryly. But he could see, could understand knowing her as he did, this wasn't an easy thing for her. Wouldn't be for anyone. But for Mary, who felt responsible personally for everyone's inner angst, it would be doubly difficult.
"Was it Bethany's...Beth's email that brought it all back?" Mary asked gently.
"In part," he admitted grudgingly. "In part it's not being certain about what to do next. All that was asked was to take care of her. I don't know how to do that." He ran his hand through his hair ready to pull it out from the feelings of inadequacy coursing through him.
"Jake," Mary caught hold of his hand, felt the trembling she knew he was trying to disguise. She only knew one other time in this man's life where his hands had shook. Realized now it hadn't been just because of the war torn area he'd barely escaped from, it had also been knowing he had a child. One that he would never truly know. "Jake," she started again, feeling her way carefully through the minefield of clichés that meant little and solved less. "You will know what to do. Just let yourself take it one step at a time."
"Mary, I don't even know how to respond to this email." He sounded desperate. "I have an email from a nineteen-year-old girl who happens to be my daughter. She knows she’s my daughter. She's lost the only parents she's ever known and I don't know what the devil to say to her."
Okay, so I'm going to be nosy, she thought to herself as she rounded the table to sit next to him. "Let's look at this email, Jake. I'm not going to write the response for you but I'll tell you what I think and you can go from there." She watched the internal struggle of a strong and proud man accepting he needed help. But in the end he tilted the laptop in her direction, pulled up the screen and signed in, then pulled up the email in question. And Mary read silently to herself.
Jake.
That's how I think of you. That's how Mom and Dad spoke of you for as long as I can remember. First as their very good friend and someone they worked with. And then later after they explained things to me, as the man who was also my father. Mom told me that not every girl was lucky enough to have two. Dad said that you were a man among men. I always thought he was as well. I miss them. I can't seem to stop missing them.
I found your email address at the end of your news articles. I know I could have gotten it from the lawyer but he's a dweeb and I wouldn't ask him for a stick of gum let alone anything important.
He gave me your cousin's name and phone number. Mom loved her books. I gave her a recent one before they left this last time. She took it with her.
I'm going to take care of a few things that I feel I need to then I will be in contact if that is okay with you.
Beth
"Oh, Jake…" Mary couldn't help the words or every maternal feeling the email in front of her awakened.
"Yeah."
Mary looked at him, understood his response had more to do with his uncertainty of how to respond and little to do with the content of the email itself. For a moment she wondered if all men were dweebs and not just the lawyer this young woman was contending with. "Jake, the only real question she asks is if it's okay to contact you. I think the first thing you should do is to respond with all your contact information. Don't just tell her its okay, give her all the means to do so it she wants to. Every single possible contact info you have. This address. Mine. Casey’s. All your email addresses. Phone numbers. Privacy concerns be hanged. Leave her with not a single doubt you want to hear from her. That you're waiting on pins and needles to hear from her." She watched him type even as she spoke, pleased that he copied and pasted Beth's email address into an email that would come from his private family email address providing her with that. Then she watched as he provided his phone numbers and his address here in Burlington along with hers and the Marshall Street address as well. He continued on to add all the contact information she had mentioned and then others she hadn't thought of. He stopped and looked at her with that “Now What?” expression she'd seen on numerous occasions from her son and still to this day from her husband.
With a sigh she thought back to the email Jake had received. "She's heard about you, knows of you, but does she know her parents regularly sent you pictures of her? That you met with her parents a couple of years ago? That you considered them the best of friends? That you miss them too?” Mary listened to him type in the back of her mind, thinking of her daughters, remembering their constantly shifting moods when her mother had died. For months after they could move from gleeful happiness, somber depression, to outright lethargy almost like a yo-yo. "You could mention there are moments you still can't believe they're gone, moments you expect them to walk in the door. And moments you can't help but know life will never be the same. It will go on but will be forever altered by their loss." She heard the typing slow, turned to see him watching her with a thoughtfulness she'd forgotten he had. "Loss doesn't change when you get older." No one knew better than they. "Remember what it felt like when you lost your Mom." She watched his expression, kept hers steady. "I can't imagine losing both parents as she has, in such a violent way that can't help but keep her awake at night. Who does she have to turn to, Jake?" She felt a need for the wine but chose instead to refill her cup with coffee. She doubted sleep would be easy this night no matter what her caffeine intake. "I didn't get the impression she had brothers or sisters," she acknowledged his slight nod with her own. "No siblings, we have no idea if she has any extended family and if so how close she is to any of them if they even exist. I hate to say it, but if she had that kind of support I'm not certain you would have heard from her this quickly." She watched the realization unfold in his eyes. "Can you even begin to think of how hard this is for someone her age who may have little to no support system." She waited a few moments, let that thought sink in. "Within a distance of four blocks you've got almost half a dozen family members that you know are there for you even when you don't care for them to be." She watched him read what he'd written then type more. She wasn't certain she'd gotten through but the intensity on his face and the speed at which he typed told her he'd found something more to say. Poor little girl, was all she could think. She made a silent promise to herself and to Lizzie O'Hara that if she had the chance she'd do everything in her power that her last request was honored.
"Thank you." Jake looked up at her. He didn't say the words often. And never when they weren't deserved. "I'd still be staring at this screen if you hadn't come down."
"It's what we do," Mary patted his cheek as she did her son when he was younger. "And I hope you know that I'm more than happy to help out as you move through this." She studied him, wondered not if he was up to the task in front of him, she knew without a doubt he was. But she wondered if he was aware he was. She knew the expectation of failure could lead to it easier than just about anything else. "You have women all around you Jake who are going to be more than willing to help you through this. To help you take all the first steps of all the steps to come." She tilted her head, smiled at his stern look. "I didn't write your email for you, I gave you some thoughts, a couple of ideas, those first steps so you could get it going. Like getting that first paragraph of a test essay, once you get that going the rest
flows." She carried her cup to the sink, rinsed it and her wine glass out. "I'm heading home. Daniel will be calling soon and no doubt will imagine all sorts of possibilities, none of them good, if I'm not there."
Jake followed her to the door with every intent of walking her up to her house. At the door she turned, gave him a quick hug. "You can watch me from here, then I want you to go in and send another quick follow up email to her, just to say you're glad she had the courage to contact you." She looked at him, gave him another quick hug. "It did take so much courage for her, Jake." She murmured softly. "At nineteen the world can be a scary place. And just imagine how much more so for her."
Jake watched her, waved back when she waved from the top of her steps before stepping into the house and closing the door behind her. All the time he thought of her parting words. He understood courage. It often came when you least expected it and needed it the most. And it could also drain you of everything else.
Sitting back down at his laptop, he pulled up his family email account again and did what his cousin had suggested. After hitting the send button he leaned back. Was this part of why he'd come to Burlington. Mary had been right on the money on a couple of things tonight. He was surrounded by women...family who understood him...and stood by him. Family that he knew without a single doubt would rise to any occasion and this was just that. Did he unconsciously head this direction because of them. Their help in a situation he was admittedly clueless about.
He wondered if she would answer. Mary was right about that too. It took tremendous courage to reach out as she had. Not knowing him, not really, only through the words and memories of her parents. For all she knew he might not even respond. And where would that leave her.
Retreat to Woodhaven (The Hills of Burlington Book 2) Page 12
