Chasing Charlie

by C. M. Newman

CHAPTER SIXTY: SUCKER PUNCH

  Angela was just beginning to cool down again from the shock of midsummer heat when everyone sat in Charlie’s therapist’s office. It had taken promises of cartoons and pizza to get him to go in and he still wouldn’t let Angela, Jenna, or even Mitch leave the room.

  When Charlie started to climb into Angela’s lap without her permission, she didn’t know what to do. Coddling him at home was one thing, but she felt judged either way she dealt with the behavior here. She looked briefly at Dr. Birmingham, who gave a brief smile and a nod. Charlie lay his head against Angela’s shoulder.

  “He doesn’t seem to want to talk very much, but that’s normal,” Dr. Birmingham said. “I don’t want to overwhelm him, so I won’t push for him to stay in here alone quite yet.”

  The words sounded muddled in Angela’s ears, as her brain had a hard time concentrating on anything but the little boy who still clung to her.

  “What should we be doing?” Jenna asked, clutching her purse nervously in her lap. “He cried when I broke the news to him, and then I dropped him off at the apartment and Angela said he was quiet at first, then clingy.”

  “Like that,” Mitch said, looking next to him. “And sucking his thumb, hardly letting Angela out of his sight, and even his speech has regressed a little, or whatever you call it…but it’s normal, right?”

  “Yes. Both are also common reactions. The key to helping him cope is to maintain a loving, nurturing environment. Do whatever it is that helps him feel better within reason. If he asks to sleep with an adult at night, I recommend you let him. As for the clinginess, he needs security, needs to know that no one else is leaving, so he’s likely to want to follow you around, keep you in his sight. All of you, I would imagine. Sucking his thumb is comforting and helps him feel safe, so let him do that, too.”

  “How long do we let it go on?” Angela asked, gradually tuning in to the conversation with her chin on top of Charlie’s head. “How long before it’s not good for him anymore?”

  “Children are quite resilient. He should start seeming much more like his normal self within a couple of weeks, maybe even sooner. The more you love on him now—cuddling, hugs, kisses, ‘I love you’s, things like that—the easier it will be for him to move on. Don’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want to do right now, and just let him know you’re there for him.”

  “What about his custody arrangement?” Mitch inquired.

  “The agreement was that he would stay with Angela on weekends and his aunt during the week, is that correct?” Dr. Birmingham said.

  Everyone nodded. “He actually asked to go over to Angela’s on Saturday. He said his dad had passed and it was the weekend, so he was supposed to be with Angela,” Jenna said.

  “Children thrive on routine. It’s not surprising that he’d want to stick to a schedule he knows about. Charlie, how do you feel about going to stay with your aunt tonight?”

  “It’s Monday,” Charlie said. “Mondays I’m s’posed to live at Auntie Jen’s.”

  “Wanna go home with her after this, then?” Angela asked.

  Charlie nodded, a blank expression on his face.

  “And if you want to see Angela before Wednesday night at your daddy’s wake, you can,” Jenna added quickly. “Just let me know, okay?”

  Angela furtively licked her lips and kept her eyes locked on Charlie. Something didn’t feel right, but she was in no condition to focus enough to put a finger on it.

  —

  An hour later, instead of sitting in a therapist’s office with Charlie in her lap, Angela sat in the center of her and Vince’s bed and flipped through a small photo album, chewing on her thumbnail. The album held pictures from their only family vacation. She had been tempted to frame every single one of them. She supposed that if she got any lonelier, she might just have to.

  For now, she waited for the good sheets to finish drying so she could lie down in a bed that didn’t smell of her friend’s perfume. The duvet cover was too big for the washer in the apartment and would need to be taken to the laundry mat, but she didn’t need it anyway. Not with the windows cracked to the summer weather and a fan pointing outside trying to rid the room of its hospital smell. Of every smell, really.

  Once the photo album was tucked into the nightstand drawer and clean sheets were laid out perfectly on the bed, Angela took a sleeping pill and informed Mitch she was going to try to rest a little before anyone else dropped by.

  Satisfied with her blank canvas, Angela walked into the closet and retrieved two of her few earthly treasures. Two pillows—one soft, one firm. She lay the firm one down and rested her head upon it once she slithered under the sheets. The soft pillow she wrapped tightly in her arms and tucked underneath her chin.

  And then she waited for the tears.

  Was she out of them? She didn’t understand. She’d reserved this time slot in her annoyingly busy schedule for crying her heart out, for missing Vince, for wishing she’d told him how she felt much sooner.

  If she couldn’t cry, she supposed she could wait for the sleeping pills to kick in.

  She felt Mitch’s concerned eyes as she ambled into the kitchen to get some water a couple of hours later. She tightened her lips in some odd resigned smile as she passed by him.

  “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.

  “’Course not,” Angela fibbed. Sleeping with nightmares was still sleeping, but Mitch hadn’t signed on to be her shrink, so she decided not to share that information with him anymore. She was fully aware that she was actively closing him out again, but she told herself she had the right. “You?”

  Mitch waited until Angela joined him in the living room before he answered. “Got a little snooze in,” he said.

  “Can I ask you something?” Angela asked, trying to mask her frustration—her envy—and come off as merely curious.

  Mitch turned off yet another baseball game. “Sure.”

  “Why is this so…easy isn’t the word I’m looking for, but we’ll just go with it. Why is this so easy for you? And by that I mean—”

  “You mean why am I sleeping well and eating and functioning?” Mitch asked.

  “That. Yeah. I feel like I don’t know if I’ll ever get back on my feet again, and you have it so together,” Angela said, wringing her hands in her lap.

  “First off, you will get back on your feet, and sooner than you think. Mourning feels good at first, but after a while it starts to get a little monotonous. You’ll want to get back to some sort of normalcy. Second, you and I…we just come from different places with all this.”

  “You think so?” Angela said. “I thought we were in a pretty similar position. We’d both been getting to know him better, but too late.”

  Mitch conceded with a nod. “Yeah, there’s that. I tried to say this earlier but I didn’t know how to phrase it. But now I think I do. You knew him for how long again?”

  Angela’s eyes rolled up in thought. “Six or seven years.”

  “Okay, and he was healthy for most of those. Save for the whole getting shot thing,” Mitch said.

  “Okay…”

  Mitch put down his footrest and clasped his hands between his knees. “I never knew Vince half as well as you knew him when he died. Never. We were too far apart in age to have much of a relationship as kids, and even once we were both adults, that never really changed. I mean, come on, I sent flowers when Kate died but I didn’t come to her funeral. And it wasn’t that I had anything against Vince or even Kate. I just…I didn’t know him. To me, he never felt like immediate family. And I wish more than anything that I could go back in time and remember then that he was my brother, because I would’ve loved to have known him better before he was sick. But I didn’t.

  “So six months ago,” Mitch continued, “he called me up, said I had to come see him, and he told me he was dying. And that’s when I started to get to know him again. When he was sick. Every time we talked on the phone or every time I came to visit after that, it was about ca
ncer. Yeah, there was always good stuff thrown in there, too—you, Charlie, Frankie, all that—but the Vince I knew was still sick. He was suffering. And as much as I loved him—and I still do—a part of me wished that it wouldn’t…drag out for him. But you…you knew him when he was healthy. This Vince from the last six months isn’t the Vince you really knew. So…of course you’re gonna wanna hold on to him. Maybe for you, the cancer felt like a phase, I guess. It didn’t define him for you. But by the time I came back into the picture, that’s a big part of what defined him for me. The dying brother.”

  “I didn’t want him to suffer,” was all Angela could say through her long-awaited tears at the end of Mitch’s speech. “I never wanted that.”

  “I didn’t mean to say you did,” Mitch rushed to say. “That’s not what I meant at all. It was just…easier for me to accept him moving on, because I didn’t have that other version of him to try and hang onto. We both wanted him to be at peace. You didn’t want him to suffer, you just didn’t want him to go. And maybe that’s why you’re having such a hard time mourning. Maybe subconsciously you feel guilty for being upset because you think it makes you less of a believer or something. But just because you know where he is now doesn’t mean you can’t miss him. So if that helps at all…”

  “Is it weird for me to be jealous of you?” Angela asked, placing her forefingers underneath her eyes to salvage what was left of her makeup.

  “Of course not. This is probably the worst pain you’ve ever felt, and I’m sitting here watching baseball. I’d be jealous of me, too.”

  Angela’s lips tilted into a soft grin hidden behind her hands. “Thank you. That helped. I don’t now why, but it did. I couldn’t even cry when I was back in my room and now look at me,” she said with a sniffle.

  “Great, so I went and made you cry,” Mitch said with a sigh.

  “Don’t be upset. It’s a good thing. I just…wish I could sleep or cry or whatever when I actually needed to.”

  “Some advice?” Mitch offered. Angela nodded. “Just go with the flow. Now that Charlie’s at Jenna’s, you have today, tomorrow, and Wednesday most of the day without anyone demanding any of your time. And like I said, don’t let yourself feel guilty for wanting to let it out. If nothing else, it’s cathartic. The last few months have been rough.”

  “I think you’re actually right, but I can’t go crazy today. My parents and the guys are coming over at some point,” Angela said.

  “So? You’ve hardly had any time to yourself. You got a few hours on Saturday and that was it. If you don’t want them here, tell them you’re not up for much talking. They’ll understand. They’ll leave you be. They know you had the human shadow all weekend and they know you’re tired.”

  “Oddly, I was sleeping a lot better with him here.” Angela gave Mitch a lost look.

  “Your body will give in eventually. Don’t worry.”

  “Can I say something before I go back to bed?” Angela asked.

  “Sure.”

  “Since we’re…being so open and honest right now, can I just ask where you are with your faith? Obviously you were at church whenever we were once you moved in, but I never really knew how much you…”

  “Bought in?” Mitch said.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t know how the whole God thing makes me feel, not quite, but I know how it all made my brother feel despite everything he was going through.”

  “And?”

  “And it’s…definitely worth looking into that part of myself.”

  Angela’s pink cheeks tensed behind her sad smile. “Good. That’s good to hear. From one immature believer to another, I’d just like to tell you not to wait.”

  “Wait for what?”

  “Anything. Don’t wait for something urgent to come up. It’s a lot easier to pray for help when you already know someone’s listening.”

  Mitch raised an eyebrow. “That’s a little deep. You been holding on to that one for a while?”

  “Decades.”

  —

  The rest of Monday was filled with short, subdued visits from Harry and Marshall, as well as Angela’s parents, as planned. That night didn’t see much of an improvement in sleep, leaving Angela feeling as fatigued as ever come Tuesday.

  Around noon, she started to wonder how many hours she’d been lying in bed, drifting in and out of unsettling dreams. It was getting harder and harder to leave her safe little nest. In ways, she felt like the only way she could connect with Vince anymore was by lying in their bed, where he’d spent so much of the end of his life, and by pretending he was with her, that somehow he lived on as the sacks of feathers she guarded so closely. She breathed him in before a fresh, much-needed wave of tears rolled down her cheeks. “I—miss you so much,” she stuttered under her breath, assuming the fetal position again and clutching Vince’s pillows more tightly to her chest. Wake me up and tell me this was all a bad dream, she pleaded silently, realizing that Mitch had been correct. All this time, she’d believed that it wasn’t okay to be in ruins. Knowing about that inner struggle now made it a little easier to let herself fall apart. Tell me everything’s all right. Tell me I made the whole thing up in my head. Just wake me up.

  Her phone buzzing to life on the nightstand scared her so effectively that her heart thrashed around in her head for a few seconds. She sniffled only to find her sinuses completely congested. Picking up the phone, she saw that it was Harry calling. She didn’t want extra visitors today so she let it ring, hoping he would understand. She would have to see Sophie that evening as planned, but she wasn’t ready for human interaction just yet. However, when Jenna called a few minutes later, she couldn’t ignore the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Angela,” Charlie said neutrally.

  “Oh, hi, sweetie,” Angela said, her heart flooding with warmth. “Does Auntie Jen know you’re on the phone?”

  “Yup, I asked,” Charlie said. He sounded neither distraught nor excited. Relieved, maybe, now that he was sure that Angela was only a phone call away.

  “What’re you up to?” Angela asked. She rolled onto her back, gathering the sheets up around her and closing her eyes.

  “Watching cartoons. What are you doing?”

  Angela smiled. “I’m lying down in bed for a bit.”

  “Are you sad?” Charlie asked.

  Angela sniffled reflexively. “Yeah, I am. But I’m okay. It’s okay to be sad, remember? Just like you told me.” Everyone knew it but me, she thought glumly.

  “Uh-huh,” Charlie said.

  “You doing all right with your auntie? Her house is a lot more fun, isn’t it?” Angela asked, picking at the hem of the top sheet.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I’ll have to think of some fun things for us to do this weekend. Maybe we could get out of the house and go see a movie. Does that sound like fun?”

  “Can Uncle Mitch come, too?” Charlie asked, brightening.

  “Of course. I’m sure he’d love to. Can you do something for me?”

  “Yup.”

  “When we hang up, can you sit down and think of a list of things that sound like fun? Other stuff we could do this weekend?”

  “Okay. Like riding my bike?”

  “Exactly. Stuff like that.”

  “And going out for ice cream?”

  “Yes, anything you can think of, write it down,” she said with a laugh.

  “Okay, I’ll make it in lots of colors. Auntie Jen got me new markers.”

  “That’s pretty awesome. You make that list nice and pretty for me.”

  “Okay. I gotta go eat now. Uncle Mitch said to tell you eat.”

  Angela rolled her eyes in good humor. “Okay, honey. I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  The urge to fall back asleep was fleeting. Charlie’s words rang through Angela’s head. Uncle Mitch said to tell you to eat, too. She still couldn’t say she was experiencing actual hunger, but she ha
d a sudden appetite for something savory. Some sort of casserole, maybe, which was a good thing to want considering the selection in the stuffed fridge. She crawled out of bed and walked with a hint of purpose to the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Mitch said. Baseball. The man watched nothing else.

  “Hey. You should train Charlie on how to pass along messages a little more subtly,” Angela said as she opened the fridge. Something with cheese caught her eye and she pulled out the clear covered dish. A guilty smile crossed Mitch’s face. “I don’t know if I’m actually hungry enough to want to eat, but if I’m worrying you to the point where you need to get your nephew to manipulate me, I’ll give it a shot.”

  “Sorry,” Mitch said with a chuckle. “I’ll do better next time.”

  Angela grinned. “Want any before I put it away?”

  “Nah. Just ate.”

  She heated herself a plate in the microwave. After the first few bites, she said, “I’m not ready to wolf down an entire plate, but it’s not nauseating. That’s a start, right?”

  “It is. It’s good to see you taking care of yourself.”

  Angela gave a short smile of appreciation. “Are you hinting that I should shower today, too?”

  “Never a bad idea. Going back to bed?”

  “Yeah, gonna see if I can go into a carb coma. Oh, hey, before I do…I can’t honestly remember if I ever said it outright, but I don’t blame you for not waking me up the other morning. I forgive you. And I’m sorry I blew up at you at a time when that was the last thing you needed.”

  “We’re good. Get some rest.”

  As she lay down again, Angela thought back to what Vince had looked like long before cancer had become part of the conversation. When all he had ever worn were suits and ties. When his shoes had always been shined, his hair always combed perfectly into place. Then she wondered what it would have been like to be with him when he had been strong and full of the energy his daily life had required of him. She felt sick for pondering such things. Despite all its differences from what anyone else would consider a normal relationship, her time with Vince had been perfect in its own way. The depth of their connection, the ease with which they trusted each other, the lengths to which they often went to keep each other from hurting any more than was necessary—it had all taught her how strongly she could really love. If she ever loved another man at all, she would consider that a victory.

  For now, though, there was Charlie.

  You’ll do just fine, she heard. His voice sounded so close, so real, that she actually turned her head, expecting to see him lying next to her, waiting to give her a reassuring kiss and bundle her up in his arms.

  Though she knew her imagination was simply playing tricks on her, no matter how strongly she believed that the dead couldn’t really communicate with the living, the grieving, she willed herself to hear his voice again.

  I’m right here, he said, his breath at her temple, which he kissed as he intertwined his fingers with hers. I’m not going anywhere.

  God or Vince, she suddenly couldn’t decide. But it didn’t matter.

  —

  Even though she’d doubled up on sleeping pills, a relatively peaceful night’s sleep still took Angela by surprise. She dreamed again, but this time, the Vince of her dreams never left, never disappeared from between her fingers. She wasn’t taunted by images of the children they would never have, either. Her dreams were simple and calming—the two of them lying in bed together, talking; taking a long moonlit stroll on the beach like they once had; sitting in front of the fireplace, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

  As Wednesday afternoon rolled around, Angela felt like she had gotten the rest she needed to get through the next couple of days. She planned on leaving her emotions at home, saving the unabashed crying for after the wake if she could, so that she could interact normally with friends and family. Any hope of remaining a blank slate vanished into thin air—much like Vince had in her nightmares—when she saw him again in his open casket. Before Mitch, before Charlie, before anyone. His casket was surrounded by the flowers people had sent to the apartment, as well as ones that had been sent directly to the funeral home. As much as she appreciated the flowers, she hoped their abundance didn’t mean everyone had ignored the request printed in Vince’s obituary to make donations to cancer research.

  Before she lost herself completely, she unclasped a gold chain around her neck that held a small cross pendant, as well as something she almost didn’t want to give up now. She slipped Vince’s wedding ring back into its proper place and gave up on controlling the tears. In a way, Vince had never looked more peaceful, but in another way, despite the suit and tie that had been him for so long, he looked nothing like himself.

  Which self? The one she’d fallen in love with in the first place, perhaps years ago, or the one she’d watched grow weary and hollow? Neither one. This looked nothing like any version of the man she’d married. Her stomach lurched but she dug a toe into the floor forcefully, telling herself that she was crazy.

  Of course this was, for the most part, what Vince had looked like. It was his spirit she missed—the love he radiated the very last time he’d spoken to her through his own tears, or when he’d promised himself to her in an empty sanctuary four months ago, or when he’d told her just last week that he would never be done falling in love with her. If she could remember that his spirit wasn’t gone, just living on elsewhere, then she reasoned that looking at his body wouldn’t be so painful.

  So she imagined that he was just sleeping. That he was right here with her in every way he could be. “I love you,” she choked, carefully arranging his hands again. She leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead, thumbing his unshaven cheek. She wanted to add that she would never stop loving him, but she saved such goodbye-worthy words for later that night. Besides, if she took things much further, she would be in no condition to visit with anyone tonight.

  A lace-clothed table was set out for her, as requested, upon which she placed the photographs that had sat on their nightstand, as well as some much older ones that Mitch had unearthed from the storage locker and dusted off. Once she was pleased with her arrangement, she gave Vince one last longing look alone and went out into the quiet lobby, where Mitch waited, now with Jenna and a very dapper Charlie. Mitch took his moment with Vince now.

  “Hi, Angela,” Charlie whispered, striding over to her. He looked like he wanted to run and yell her name instead, but had apparently already been instructed on appropriate funeral home etiquette and now took it a bit too far.

  “Hi, honey,” she said stuffily. Charlie didn’t mention her crying, just wrapped his arms around her neck when she squatted down in her too-high heels. “You can talk in a normal voice, okay? You don’t have to whisper. Soon there’ll be lots of people here.”

  “Are they all gonna be sad?” Charlie asked, worried. Angela glanced up at Jenna and gave her a friendly smile.

  “Some of them will be sad, yes. But some will be sharing old stories about your daddy. A lot of them will come to talk about him and remember him.”

  “Do I have to talk to them too?”

  “I’d like it if you were friendly and said hello if they say hello to you, but other than that, you don’t have to talk to anyone. Sound fair?”

  Charlie nodded. “Can I stay by you?”

  “Of course.” Angela stood and held out her hand. “How’s he been doing?” she asked Jenna as Charlie locked his stubby fingers with hers.

  “Sometimes better, sometimes not,” Jenna said. “We’ve been taking it easy and relaxing at home, haven’t we?” she said to Charlie.

  “Yup. I made my list! Auntie Jen has it in her purse.”

  “Oh, good. Why don’t you get it from her and come sit down and read it to me while we wait for everyone else to get here?” Angela offered.

  “We gotta give Chip to Daddy first,” Charlie said, going to his aunt, who opened up her purse to get Charlie’s things out for him.

>   “Are you sure?” Angela asked with a melting heart. “You don’t want to keep him?”

  “Daddy really liked him,” Charlie said, coming back to Angela.

  “Okay, well, once your uncle’s had time to be with your daddy, we can do that.”

  “Does Daddy look scary?” Charlie asked.

  “No,” Angela reassured him, tucking a hair behind his ear and noticing that Jenna had gotten it cut. “He looks like he’s sleeping. He looks very peaceful. If you don’t want to see him, you don’t have to. I can put Chip in there for you if you want me to.”

  For a moment, it looked like Charlie was considering avoiding seeing his father’s dead body, but it was apparently too much to bear to think about someone else passing along the memento. “Uh-uh. I want to. But can you come with me?”

  “Of course.” Angela waited until Mitch reappeared, red-eyed and flushed, before she led Charlie into the viewing room.

  “It’s too high,” Charlie said. “Can you pick me up?”

  Angela held out her arms and Charlie stepped into them, hitching his feet around her. “See? He looks like he could be taking a nap,” Angela said. Charlie’s weight sank down her waist more quickly that she anticipated, so she hiked him up again with a soft grunt. She watched as Charlie leaned forward and placed the stuffed dog beside Vince’s closest arm. He kept looking on as he rested his head on Angela’s shoulder and held on to her lazily, sniffling. “That was really sweet of you,” she said, placing a kiss on Charlie’s forehead.

  “I miss Daddy,” Charlie cried, digging his fingers into the delicate black chiffon of Angela’s dress.

  “I know,” she whispered. “So do I. But he’s not completely, gone, honey. He’s up in heaven watching us.”

  “Right now?” Charlie asked.

  “Right now. Every day, all day. He’ll never stop watching,” Angela said with a sniffle herself. “He’ll always be with you.”

  —

  Charlie wasn’t kidding when he’d said he planned on sticking by Angela’s side. He refused the food she offered to fix him because he knew it meant he wouldn’t have her hand to hold on to. Though she felt an actual pang of hunger, Angela ignored it and kept her other hand free for hugs and handshakes from the people who trickled in. Charlie heeded her request in being friendly, at least friendly enough. He kept it to a shy hello, even to people he knew. This had little effect on people’s determination to speak to Angela. With Charlie hanging on her, though, she kept conversations brief, not wanting to scare him. She started to feel rude for it.

  Then she saw Mitch being a wallflower. With no one on the Glasser side of the family present just yet, he had very few people he truly knew. “Hey, Charlie,” Angela said, crouching down. “Your uncle looks kind of lonely. Why don’t you go keep him company? I bet he’d even carry you around.”

  “Really?” Charlie asked.

  Angela nodded, then watched Charlie walk hesitantly toward Mitch, who lifted him with ease into his arms. Sophie came in for her third hug from Angela, this time carrying a plate of cheese and fruit. “I saw you eying the buffet. Eat, eat.”

  “Oh, thank you,” Angela said, popping a cube of sharp cheddar into her mouth.

  “How’re you holding up?”

  Angela shrugged. “All right, I guess. I’m keeping it together for the most part. How about you?”

  “Well, the makeup’s gone,” Sophie said lightly. “Once I got past the initial shock of seeing him, and once I cried for fifteen minutes straight in the bathroom, it got better.”

  Angela smiled gently and pulled Sophie in for another hug. “How’ve things been at work?” she asked.

  “Quiet…oh, and speaking of work, and seeing as how she’s on her way over here right now, I think I should warn you that Hanson said she was coming.” Sophie straightened her posture and cleared her throat.

  “Thanks for the notice,” Angela muttered under her breath.

  “Agent Glasser,” Hanson said, carefully, as if she’d rehearsed it.

  It was Angela’s first time being addressed by her new name in a serious manner. Her gut twisted. “Agent Hanson, thank you for coming.”

  “Of course. I’m very sorry for your loss.” Hanson offered a gentle, lingering handshake, but not a hug. Angela was grateful, as this was about as compassionate as she could handle Hanson being.

  “Thank you. I, uh…think I’ll probably be coming back into work sometime next week.”

  “What?” Sophie hissed. “Angela, that’s way too soon.”

  “I might have to agree,” Hanson said. “Take all the time you need. Come back in when you’re ready.”

  “I really think that time might be soon,” Angela said. “Besides, it’s only Wednesday. Next week is a ways away.”

  “Well, as long as you don’t feel pressured to come back,” Hanson said. “As for me, I do need to get back to the office soon. I won’t be able to make it for the funeral tomorrow, but I did want to come and pay my respects.”

  “Of course. Thank you again for coming.” Angela saw Hanson go stand in the lengthening viewing line, then turned her attention back toward Sophie, wearing a look of mild disgust.

  “What’s wrong?” Sophie asked.

  “Why can’t people just say ‘He’ll be missed’ instead of ‘I’m sorry for your loss’? I mean, you were standing right here. You were one of Vince’s best friends. But she only looked at me when she said it.”

  “Because you were his wife,” Sophie pointed out. “Immediate family.”

  “But it’s not like it took me by surprise. I knew this was coming,” Angela said testily.

  “Okay, we’re not having this conversation again,” Sophie said, her hands on Angela’s shoulders. “We’re gonna go outside and get some fresh air.” Sophie led Angela out into a small courtyard no one else had found. “Let’s sit.”

  Angela listened to her friend and sat on a wrought iron bench, setting her plate on her knee.

  “I don’t want to have this argument with you ever again,” Sophie said firmly. “Ever. Again. Do you hear me? It doesn’t matter whether you knew about Vince’s cancer before you got together with him. It’s not like it hurts any less than it would have had you not known ahead of time. If anything, maybe knowing ahead of time made it worse, because not a day went by during your relationship when you weren’t dreading him being gone. In any case, you were his wife. You and Charlie lost more than anyone else when Vince died,” Sophie said, her voice breaking, “and since Charlie is young and distressed and understandably doesn’t want to talk to a bunch of strangers, they’re going to load all that attention onto you and to Mitch if they realize who he is. And I know you don’t think you deserve people’s condolences because you consented to this day, but you do deserve them, Angela. You’re in pain. It’s one thing to say that people are annoying you—I get that, I really do. But don’t…don’t devalue your pain like this, okay?”

  Angela nodded if for no other reason than for Sophie to think her work was done. Angela wasn’t very open to reason and logic right now. Her emotions had been driving much of her behavior lately, which she hoped was excusable.

  Sophie looked casually over her shoulder, but then her gaze stuck there, prompting Angela to look behind them as well. Her breath caught in her throat. “Jeff?” Angela whispered. Her question was rhetorical—even after more than twenty years, he still looked the same. Ears too big, a little gangly in the legs and arms, but with warm eyes and a timid smile.

  “Who’s Jeff?” Sophie whispered.

  “An old friend,” Angela said vaguely. “Can we have a minute, Soph?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Sophie said before gladly making herself scarce. Angela was now alone with Jeff Draper, someone she hadn’t thought about in any great depth in a couple of months, at least. She stood to greet her once best friend. “Wow, h—hi,” she stammered, stepping into an embrace that was loaded with history.

  “You’re supposed to call up old friends and at least tell them y
ou got married if you’re not gonna invite them to the wedding,” Jeff teased, giving Angela a kiss on the cheek.

  “Yeah, well, we didn’t really do anything by the books,” Angela said warmly as they sat. “Besides, the last time we talked, the conversation led me to believe we weren’t really friends.”

  “That’s very true. And my fault.”

  Angela shook her head. “Your reaction was mild considering what I’d done. I’m so sorry, Jeff. You have to believe that.”

  “I do, Angie, and it’s okay. I should’ve told you twenty years ago, but maybe I was too proud, or scared that I’d pushed you away. But I do forgive you, okay?” He glanced at the tiny silver cross that hung around her neck. “Not that you need me to forgive you.”

  “For the sake of my soul, no, I guess I don’t need it, but I’ve just…wanted to hear you say it. For years. You have no idea how relieved I am.”

  “I beg to differ,” Jeff said.

  “Can I ask how you knew you’d find me here?” Angela asked.

  “My uncle passed away. I was looking in the obits to make sure they printed his correctly, and your husband’s was right below his. I saw your maiden name and thought, No way. So, yeah…I came here tonight not knowing if I’d actually find the Angie Hawkins I knew. Could’ve been pretty awkward, huh?”

  Angela laughed more than she had in days, though that wasn’t saying a whole lot. “You’ve got the right Angie. But I’m sorry about your uncle. When’s his funeral?”

  “It was yesterday. But it’s okay. It was a long time coming. He’d been sick for a while,” Jeff said. “As was your husband, I understand?”

  “Yeah. Pancreatic cancer.”

  “I’m so sorry. I obviously didn’t know him, but I know you never would’ve married someone who didn’t make you ridiculously happy.”

  Angela grinned and leaned into Jeff. “You’re very right.”

  “So, when did you tie the knot, anyway?”

  “Hmm, back in March.”

  “Wow. How long after that did you find out? That’s rough.”

  For a brief span of time, Angela was a normal widow—one, she felt, who deserved a little of the pity in which she was sinking. In a strange way, she liked it a little. But she ended it. “We, uh…we didn’t get together until after he found out.”

  “After he found out he was dying, or just sick?” Jeff asked.

  “Dying. I know it sounds crazy, but…it was the best decision I’ve ever made. As much as it hurts now, I can’t imagine doing things any differently.”

  “You’re nuts, Angie,” Jeff said glumly. “You always were.”

  “I know. Ugh, how have you been? It’s been so long.” Angela said, her body warming thanks to the balmy temperature and being pulled against her friend’s side.

  “Good. Got married ten years ago,” Jeff said. Angela saw the glint of gold on his left hand.

  “Oh, wow, congratulations. Wait, you hypocrite. What did you just say to me about not inviting old friends to your wedding?”

  Jeff gave her a guilty grimace. “You caught me.”

  “So what’s her name? Do I know her?”

  “Amy, and no, you don’t know her, but I’d love for you to meet her.”

  “Well, if you and I are friends again and it’s not too weird, I’d definitely like to meet the woman who got you to settle down when you insisted as a teenager that you would never do something as archaic as getting married.”

  Jeff chuckled. “Very funny. Yeah, maybe you can come over for dinner sometime.”

  “I’d love to. I take it you live in town, then? Have you really still lived here all this time?”

  Jeff shook his head. “No, we lived in Chicago for quite a while, just moved back here a year ago. We wanted to be closer to our parents again.”

  “Got any kids?” Angela asked.

  “Two boys at home, one’s seven years old and the other’s ten months.” Jeff looked at his watch. “And the baby’s not feeling the best. I told Amy I wouldn’t be too long, actually.”

  Angela tasted tears at the corners of her smiling lips. She couldn’t help but feel a bit bitter that Jeff had gotten what she’d wanted—the marriage, the children, none of it being taken away. But she couldn’t be down about it for long. Her heart rushed when she heard Charlie cautiously calling her name. She turned around. “Hey, sweetie. Come on over.”

  Charlie walked tentatively toward Angela, eying up his competition for her attention. “Who’s that?” he asked, pointing.

  Angela gently nudged down Charlie’s pointing finger and he remembered his manners. “This is Jeff, a very old friend of mine.”

  “He only looks a little bit old,” Charlie said, confused.

  “I meant he’s been my friend for a long time,” Angela said. “Jeff, this is Charlie, Vince’s son.”

  “Ohh,” Jeff said, leaning forward, an elbow on a knee. He reached out a hand. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Charlie. I’m sorry about your daddy,” Jeff said.

  “What do you say?” Angela whispered into Charlie’s ear when he simply stared at the stranger.

  “Thank you,” Charlie said. “Angela, I gotta go potty.”

  “Okay, go ahead. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “No, I want you to come with me,” Charlie said, taking one of her hands and pulling.

  Angela looked desperately to Jeff, who said, “I’ll wait. I can stay a few more minutes. Go ahead.”

  “You’re a little too old for the women’s bathroom,” Angela said to Charlie as they walked off. “Can you go in the men’s room and I’ll stand outside?”

  Charlie shook his head violently, his temper going with his energy. Angela realized it was getting late, so she was careful with him. Thankfully, the women’s room was empty, so she stood inside while Charlie went into a stall, then gave him a boost so he could wash his hands.

  “Is Jeff gonna be your boyfriend now?” Charlie asked right before Angela opened the door. She stopped in her tracks.

  “My boyfriend? Honey, no, he’s just my friend. Besides, he’s married and has two little boys at home. One of them is just about your age, actually. Maybe you can come see them with me sometime.”

  Charlie was uninterested in offers of new friends. Only one thing was relevant right now. “You still love Daddy, right?”

  Angela crouched down and enveloped Charlie completely, giving him the attention he craved. “I do still love your daddy and I always will. Just like you’ll always love him.”

  Placated, Charlie nodded and followed a panicky Angela back out of the bathroom.

  “There he is,” Mitch said, catching them. “Sorry, I put him down so I could fix him some food and I turned around and he was gone.”

  “I didn’t want you to put me down,” Charlie fumed at his uncle.

  “All righty then. I guess you did tell me about twenty times. C’mon, let’s go sit down and eat something,” Mitch said.

  “Can I sit on your lap?” Charlie asked, sweetening up.

  “Whatever floats your boat, big guy. Come on.” Mitch held out a hand and tried to lead Charlie away, but Charlie dove in for one more hug from Angela.

  “Can I stay with you tonight?” Charlie asked her.

  “We’ll have to talk to your auntie first, but I’m sure she’d be fine with that,” Angela said. “We’d have to go to her house and get some things for you first, though.”

  “Don’t leave without me, okay?”

  “Charlie, I’m not going anywhere without you,” Angela said with a patient sigh. “I promise. Go ahead and eat and I’ll see you soon. And no more taking off without telling anyone.” Angela tried to wipe the worried look from her face before she went back out to find Jeff.

  “So, you’re kind of a mom now, huh?” he said.

  “I guess so…” she replied somewhat dreamily. For the first time, the custodial schedule didn’t matter. Indeed, she felt like the closest thing Charlie had to the new mom for whom he’d wished.

 
“I always kinda wondered if you’d run off and have kids sometime. You always wanted them, but our, uh…timing wasn’t quite right, was it?”

  “Right. And I don’t see my own kids in my future now, but I love Charlie. He’s really fragile and confused right now, but hopefully he’ll be better soon. He actually…” Angela paused and laughed. “He asked me just now if you were going to be my boyfriend. He’s so protective of his dad’s memory already. It’s sweet but funny at the same time.”

  “You know what’s weird?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What he said…asking you if we were dating…it doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable in the slightest. It kind of cracks me up, actually.”

  Angela gave a relaxed sigh. “We were never meant to be anything more than friends, that’s for sure. Talk about an awkward summer…”

  “Why did we keep going?” Jeff said in utter awe.

  “I have no idea. We were just stupid, I guess. But like you said, at least you and I as a couple is a really bad joke. Makes it easier for us to be friends again, don’t you think?”

  “Definitely,” Jeff said. He then stared off over the roof of the funeral home, into the darkening sky.

  “What?” Angela asked, glancing the same way to see if he was looking at something in particular.

  “I just…wish I hadn’t gone all this time without picking up the phone and calling. I still lived just a few houses down from you until I graduated from college. My parents still live there now. I wasted so much time being angry, leaving you feeling guilty…”

  “Jeff, don’t. If there’s one thing I’ve learned since Vince and I got together, it’s that it’s never too late to change. It’s never to late to…tell people how you feel,” Angela said bravely.

  “You sure about that? Not even after this long?”

  Angela gave her friend a comforting smile. “I can’t even describe how good it is to hear you say that you forgive me. And to see that…what I did didn’t ruin the rest of your adult life like I let it ruin mine in some ways. I’m happy for you. And it’s just…so good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you, too. Here,” Jeff said, handing her his phone. “Put your number in and I’ll give you a call about dinner so you can meet everyone.”

  “Can I ask you something first?” Angela said as she typed in her name. Jeff nodded. “Does your wife know about me? Does she know everything?”

  Jeff swallowed. “Uh, yeah, she does. I told her when she and I first got serious, and I told her I was coming here tonight. We don’t really keep things from each other. I hope you’re okay with her knowing about the whole…you-know.”

  “Of course I’m okay with it. Vince and I had the same policy, actually. We didn’t always execute it so well, but I did tell him about you and what happened, and I felt a lot better once I realized he didn’t love me any less for it.” Jeff’s phone rang in her hand; she gave it back to him.

  “That’s Amy. Gotta pick up some more medicine for the little guy,” Jeff said with a tinge of regret. “Again, I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how trite that sounds at a funeral wake, but I mean it. We’ll be keeping you in our prayers.”

  Angela’s heart swelled and she gave a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

  Jeff got up and opened his arms for another hug that Angela readily gave. “I promise,” he said, “I won’t be a stranger.”

  —

  The night delivered no more surprise appearances, but Angela was still amazed at the turnout. Every employee at their office, countless police officers, and dozens upon dozens of fellow congregants were there. Angela couldn’t even spot the few people she knew well—her parents, her friends, or her pastor. When she thought about it and took a brief survey of the people who surrounded her at the crowd’s peak size, she realized both the viewing room and the lobby were packed to the hilt. Though the mass of people made her feel somewhat suffocated, it was enormously moving at the same time.

  The crowd thinned out as time went on, finally leaving only Angela, Mitch, Charlie, Jenna, and the team behind.

  “I’ll keep my phone close by in case you need anything before tomorrow morning,” Marshall said to Angela as he hugged her goodnight. “Anything at all. Don’t make Mitch run out for anything. You give me a call, okay?”

  “Okay. Thank you,” Angela said, giving Marshall an extra squeeze before he let him go. “I appreciate it, I really do.”

  “Goodnight, Charlie,” Marshall tried, crouching down, but Charlie turned Angela’s legs into a fortress.

  “Sorry,” Angela said, reaching her hand behind her and stroking Charlie’s hair.

  “It’s okay. As long as he feels safe with you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Big crowd,” Harry remarked before he departed himself.

  “Very,” Angela said. “He was loved, that’s for sure.”

  Mitch offered to take Charlie and go with Jenna to her house to get Charlie’s things, then have her drop them off, so that Angela could stay as long as she needed and still have a car to drive home. She politely declined the offer, though, insisting that she only needed a minute. She just wanted to take in her husband’s restful visage, to gain some sort of sense of security that didn’t involve a fabricated voice in her head, one that made her worry for her mental health. “I love you,” she said again, cupping his cheek.

  As much as she wanted to be brave for his sake, to hold back her tears in the quiet room and say a calm, composed goodbye to his earthly form, she had to bring a quivering hand to her mouth to cover up the sobs that built up into something she couldn’t hold back.

  She took much longer than her promised minute. Part of her time was spent crying, the rest of it trying to erase the evidence. With a heavy heart that she hoped would eventually find respite, she told him she loved him one more time, pressed her lips gingerly to his wedding ring, and smoothed out his already perfectly placed tie. Accepting of the fact that she would never see his face in three dimensions again—that his visage would appear to her only in photographs and in her memory that she hoped would never fail her—she soaked him in as much as she could before she walked away. She took a moment at the closed doors to dab the tears from her face, knowing better than to believe that she could hide the fact that she’d cried or to believe she even should.

  —

  What remained of the Glasser family arrived at the church early the next morning, meeting Jenna there. Everyone on the team arrived shortly thereafter. The funeral director guided the pallbearers outside to bring in the casket to open up the service. Angela, her mother, Jenna, Charlie, and Sophie started to fill up a front pew.

  Angela found it difficult to commit anything to memory. After a while of trying, she realized that no matter how beautiful the service was—no matter how much her heart swelled with gratitude and warmth when she saw Mitch and Harry leading Vince’s casket toward the altar with the help of her father, Marshall, Paul, and Frankie’s father; no matter how full the sanctuary was—a surprising number of Bureau agents and local police had found the time to attend; no matter how moving the hymns were; no matter how many times her mother squeezed her hand; no matter how many times it gave her the chills to hear so many people following along in the liturgy for the sake of Vince’s spirit; no matter how sweetly Charlie took turns clinging to her and his aunt; she didn’t want to remember this.

  Not a second of it.

  So between the moments in which her attention was required, she simply let her mind drift away. Her eyes stayed glued to the closed casket, but in her head she saw other things—Vince’s face closing in on hers for their first kiss; lying in bed with him and Charlie; Vince standing out on a cold winter’s night with her, snowflakes dusting his shoulders; his failure to suppress his laughter at their wedding; the way he had held her at times when she hadn’t been able to hide from the fact that she was losing him. Those were the things she wanted to remember.

  On her way out of the service, she saw some faces she�
��d already forgotten about. Maria and Rosie sat near the back in their nurse’s whites; they had either identified one another by their nurse’s whites or were already friends. Fleetingly Angela wondered whether Maria had been at Frankie’s funeral and she’d just missed her.

  The burial was much the same as the mass in regards to how much Angela wanted to retain it in her mind, though she tried to at least be a bit more mentally present, knowing that so many eyes were directly on her. After the casket containing the remains of the only man she had ever really loved, she was the star of the show. Charlie chose to stand in front of her and she used him like armor again, squeezing his little shoulders and ignoring the tears that streamed down her face.

  After the blessing of the ground over which Vince’s casket was perched, the prayers, and shoveling of earth, Angela watched as mourner after mourner piled white roses atop the dark, shining wood. The others left her and Charlie the last ones at the grave. “Let’s give Daddy our flowers and a kiss goodbye,” Angela said feebly, leading Charlie and his rose closer to the casket. She lifted him up onto her hip so he was high enough to place his flower on top of the dozens of others from only a small portion of the people who had attended the church service. She placed her rose next to Charlie’s, then kissed her fingertips, waiting for Charlie to mimic her. He did, and together they touched their hands to the warm, gleaming surface.

  “Bye, Daddy,” Charlie said quietly, burrowing his face into the crook of Angela’s neck afterward.

  She swallowed, her hand seemingly glued to the casket until she sucked in a deep breath and said, “Goodbye, sweetheart. I love you.”

  It was when she turned to carry Charlie away that she saw Kate’s grave. “Hey, Charlie,” she said softly.

  “Huh?” he said miserably.

  “Your daddy’s being buried right next to your mommy,” Angela said, pointing to Kate’s headstone. “That way you’ll always know how much they loved each other.”

  “Really? That’s my mommy?”

  “It sure is. She loved you so much, Charlie.”

  “And she loved Daddy too?”

  “Oh, whole bunches. And they’re both thinking about you right now.”

  —

  “Someone said you wanted Chardonnay,” Harry said, sneaking up behind Angela at the luncheon.

  She let out a hushed laugh and took the wine. “Thanks.”

  “I gotcha covered,” Harry said, giving her arm a squeeze. “But you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach. Wanna go grab some of those pot stickers before they disappear?”

  “Actually, I was thinking I’d start with the cheesecake.”

  “Cheesecake? This isn’t by chance food from that place you two ordered from for your little get-together, is it?”

  “Not all of it. Just the cheesecake, actually.”

  “Nice touch. Say, was that his hospice nurse I saw at the service?”

  “Yeah, with a nurse from the chemo center. They left before I could say hello, though.”

  “Probably didn’t wanna be in the spotlight.”

  “I think you’re right. And you, Mr. ‘Bring All of France with me to a funeral wake,’ might want to try taking a leaf from her book.”

  Harry’s eyes narrowed above his smile and he shook his head at Angela. “Never. Speaking of scenes, would you mind if I made a toast?”

  “I think that would be very sweet.”

  Angela thought Harry had meant later on, but he cleared his throat right at that moment and raised his glass. “Excuse me, everyone, could I get your attention, please?”

  The din of chatter died down gradually and all eyes turned to Harry. “Thank you.” Once he was sure he had captured the attention of all, he continued. “I’d like to propose a toast, and I’ll keep it short, and this time I mean it,” he said as a pointed aside to his close friends. “Vince was—and I mean this—the finest man I ever knew. For as many lives as he helped save, he touched twice as many more. The size of this crowd in the middle of a weekday speaks volumes to how much he was loved and appreciated and always will be. Let us all rest assured that he’s in a much better place, probably wearing a tie and perfectly shined shoes.” This drew a muted chuckle out of most. “In all seriousness, though…please, everybody raise your glasses. To Vince.”

  “To Vince.”

  “And to his lovely family,” Harry added quietly, pulling Angela close to his side.

  —

  The twenty-four hours following the funeral were quiet, almost numb, in the Glasser residence. Charlie had gone back to Jenna’s, leaving Mitch and Angela to let the reality sink in further. Angela found herself finally getting the rest she needed, making her return to work look even more promising.

  Apart from God, the only constant in Angela’s life now was just a few feet tall and waited anxiously to see her Friday evening. She knew she couldn’t stay much longer at what had technically been Vince’s apartment. Though it offered her inexplicable comfort, she knew Charlie would rest more easily elsewhere. In any case, he seemed relatively happy to see her when Jenna brought him over.

  Angela was ready for a weekend filled with the activities Charlie had outlined in his colorful list. She knew she could go for an ice cream cone, a trip to the park, and a children’s movie where the darkest element of the plot was a goofy cartoon villain with a giant nose.

  She was thrown for a loop when Jenna asked Angela if she would come outside with her. Angela had been impatiently waiting for a day when her stomach wouldn’t tangle itself into painful knots for some reason or another, and it looked like she was further from that day than she liked. “What’s up?” she asked Jenna once they took a seat on a bench outside.

  “I, uh, scheduled a court hearing for next week so we can straighten things with a judge, make it all official.”

  “Oh, good. Thanks, that was on my list of things to do.” Angela’s anxiety did anything but disappear, though. It only grew more potent when Jenna looked at her with deep shame.

  Jenna swallowed. “I want to move to Madison and I want to take Charlie with me.”

  What little of Angela’s world that she had been able to rebuild over the past week came crashing down around her. “What?”

  “I’m so sorry, Angela. This isn’t a territorial thing, I promise. I just…I think he needs to start fresh. We both do.”

  “So you’re going to take him away from two people he loves?” Angela said incredulously. “In what—In what world does that make the least bit of sense, Jenna?”

  “I know, I know it sounds crazy,” Jenna said. “But…I’ve thought about it a lot and I’ve made up my mind. He has more family there, cousins his age, more people he can count on. He can have a more normal life there. He won’t have all these…constant reminders around him.”

  “Have you brought this by him at all?” Angela asked behind her shaking hands.

  “I’ve hinted at what it might be like to live closer to my side of the family and he seemed all for it.”

  “Did you happen to mention that I wouldn’t necessarily move with you guys?”

  “I think he knows that.”

  “No, Jenna, he doesn’t know that. He’s six and he doesn’t always think things through, and he probably didn’t think you were serious. And if he did happen to take you seriously and I happened to cross his mind, he would’ve said something, and you know that. Is this really what you think is best for him?”

  “You’re his only tie here,” Jenna said, now confidently. “Mitch could end up anywhere. You’re the only thing rooted here that he still loves, but you could still see him every weekend just like we planned. If you wanted more time with him, I’d be willing to work with you. I’d happily drive him down here for Thursday nights and pick him up Sundays if you wanted some three-day weekends during the summer. I’m totally flexible.”

  “I have a full-time job,” Angela informed her. “I burned up all my vacation days already. Not everyone gets to make their own hours all the time.”


  Jenna bit her tongue and refrained from taking Angela’s well-lain bait. “I’m sorry to do this to you, I really am. But it’s nothing personal.”

  “Of course it’s personal,” Angela hissed, dragging her hands through her hair. “Just because your intentions aren’t to hurt people doesn’t mean they don’t in the end. And it’s not only me this would hurt. And I know a judge would rule in your favor even if I put up a fight because more family is always a good thing, and all I am is the former stepmom who’s only been in his life for six months. You’re the aunt who’s been there since birth. I’m no competition for you. And I never have been,” Angela said purposefully, trying to impress upon Jenna just how inadequate she sometimes felt by her side. “So either way, it looks like you’re moving to Madison. Congratulations.”

  Jenna sighed and stared at the cement. “I’m sorry.”

  “Are you entirely serious about this?” Angela asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a place to live yet?”

  “No,” Jenna said timidly. “But I’ve been getting my place ready to sell and looking online…”

  Angela’s entire body went aquiver as she paced the small concrete courtyard. There was only one option in her mind, one course of action that would keep her sane, one course of action that would keep this from feeling like another funeral. “Well, let me know when you’ve bought a place. Because I’ll be shopping right down the street.”