by TJ Fox
I call Riff and Rusty in and then run upstairs. “B and Jorie, get things picked up and put away. Lunch will be ready soon.” They look disappointed when I come in.
“It’s too soon! We weren’t done building yet!” B whines.
“How about you put away everything that you aren’t using and then, if there is still time, you can come finish after lunch?” They both cheer at that.
“Don’t forget to wash up before you come down!” I call out as I cross the hall.
Simone is in her window seat again. This time she has earbuds in, and her sketchbook is on the other side of the seat, untouched. She must see the movement when I come to the door because she looks over. Her eyes are a little red, and there are drying tear tracks on her pale checks. She pulls the ear bud out of one ear. “What’s up?”
I walk over, move her sketchbook to the bed and sit on the opposite side of the bench, pulling a leg up underneath me. “Lunch will be ready soon.”
I look out the window trying to figure out how to ask how she is doing. I know she isn’t okay, so asking if she is okay is useless. “It sucks.”
She lets out a surprised snort. “Yeah.”
I look back at her. “I hate how all of this happened. I hate that you are going through this, and I hate the reasons. The one thing I can’t hate, though, is that you are here. That? That I love. I am glad that you are here and that I can be here for you, if and when you need me.”
She lunges over and hugs me, burying her face in my shoulder. I feel the wetness of her tears on my neck, and I hold her tight. When she sits back, I wipe the remaining tears away. “What do you say we go see if Jules is finished with lunch. She made one of my favorites.”
“Yeah, sounds good.” Impulsively, I lean over and drop a kiss on her forehead that gets me a small smile before we head downstairs.
Everyone else is already in the dining room just getting ready to start when we come in. Jules has places set for us, so we sit down and join them. Jorie and B have to be reminded to slow down, too excited to finish their building project. Riff is still joking with Rusty and making him laugh. This is better than I could have expected today to have gone.
When everyone is finished and has done their part to clear the table, Simone offers to help Jorie and B with whatever it is they’re building. “Come on, B, let’s see what you guys are working on.”
Riff takes Rusty into the living room and sets him up on the couch with a movie. The doorbell rings before I can help Jules with the dishes. Riff looks over at me, unsure.
“Go ahead. It’s probably the delivery guys with your stuff.” I nod to the door while drying my hands.
When he opens the door, it’s the guys from the furniture store. I suggest it may be easier to bring everything around back and through the basement door rather than down the stairs. I have Riff go down and unlock the door while I show them around back.
I stay downstairs and supervise but allow Riff to tell them where he wants things. The dresser and nightstand are easy enough; they just bring them in and put them in place, but they have to assemble the bed frame before bringing in the mattress. Luckily, the TV stand is already assembled, so it’s just a matter of moving it into place. I sign for the delivery and walk them back around to the front.
Grabbing the bedding and towels from the dryer, thank you, Jules, I go back down to make Riff’s bed while he puts the TV and game system back together. He opted to put his bed in the corner to the left as you come into the room. It sits directly across from the nook that is just big enough for the TV setup, so he can play games either sitting on the floor in front of the bed or while on it. The dresser is angled in the corner across from the door to the room between the bathroom and the door to the outside.
He still has lots of space to work with since his room takes up about a third of the basement. “We might want to consider a desk for you. It would give you a quiet place to study.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I look around while he finishes to see if there is anything else that needs to be done. “It looks great. Do you want help bringing your other boxes and stuff in and getting unpacked?”
He is fiddling with something on the TV, not looking at me. “No. I’m good. Just gonna hook this up, then probably play some games.”
“Alright. Just let me know if you need something.” Like Simone earlier, he is probably starting to feel the weight of the last day. No longer having the distraction of playing with Rusty and having the furniture delivered has to be driving home the truth of this new reality. I head back upstairs giving him some space.
Simone is in the living room with everyone else, and Jules is gathering her stuff, so she can take her kids home. It’s past Rusty’s nap time, and he is starting to get cranky. I help by carrying him out to the car and buckling him in. Sitting on the steps to the porch, I wave as I watch them drive off.
It’s only early afternoon, but it feels like it has been at least three days all rolled into one. My sleepless night is starting to catch up with me. I am bone tired. I wonder if the kids would be up for popcorn and a movie after dinner, something mindless to counteract the stress and emotions. I tilt my head back in the warmth of the sun and close my eyes, soaking in a different kind of sunshine.
The door behind me opens, but I remain where I am with my eyes closed. I feel someone sit next to me, then Simone leans over and puts her head on my shoulder.
“I’m glad I’m here too. It’s nice having another girl around.” I sit quietly and let her find what she needs to say. “I don’t remember much about my mom before she got sick. Little things, but mostly I remember she was too sick to do things with anymore. We’d talk about everything, but we couldn’t do anything or go anywhere because she didn’t have the strength.”
I reach over and take her hand. I don’t say anything, just let her know that I’m here, and I’m listening.
“I missed her before she was even gone. That was hard.” She sits up, so I look over at her. She is looking back.
“I don’t hate him for what he did. I get it. The missing someone before they are gone part is awful, and he didn’t want us to go through that again. But if he would have asked me, I would have told him that I would rather start missing him while he was here than after he was already gone.” Damn, damn, DAMN!
“Ah, sweetie.” I reach over and pull her to me. This beautiful girl is so much. Dylan missed out on so much love by choosing the path he did. I hurt for her. I hurt for him.
She clings to me for a little while.
“I was thinking about a movie and popcorn after dinner. What do you think?” I sit back and push her hair behind her ear.
“As long as it won’t make me cry.” Said with a straight face for all of five seconds before she cracks a smile. It’s small, but it is there. She jokes. Good.
Smiling back, I say, “Let’s see what we can find.”
We find B crashed out on the couch in front of the TV. I put the throw from the back of the couch over him and turn the TV off. Simone runs upstairs to grab her sketchbook and heads out back. I don’t see Riff, so I’m guessing he is still downstairs playing games.
Deciding to take a little time to get some things done, I head up to my office to transfer the pictures from my camera to my computer. Once they are transferred, I start sorting through them and putting them in different files to work on later. I run across the pictures I took of the kids in the hospital. There isn’t anything extraordinary about them other than they are the only pictures I have of them. So far. To me, they weigh more than gold.
I print them out. All of them. All as big as my printer can handle. I lay them out along my window bench as each one finishes to ensure they don’t smudge. I’m going to need to buy some frames.
Remembering the frames I talked Simone into getting, I run downstairs and out back to find her. She is sitting on the swing, drawing
. I grab her hand and pull her back inside with me. “Come on, I have a project I need help with.”
Startled and a little confused, she follows along.
It takes some convincing, but I get her to agree to let me take several of her sketches out of her book and trim them to fit her frames. She picks a few that she likes, and I push for the one of B and the one of Dylan. Once they are framed, we lay them out on the floor by the bench to decide which ones should go where. I tell her I want the pictures of Dylan and B on the mantle. She gets choked up but agrees. We’ll hang the others in her room.
I poke around in the boxes that are full of the stuff Jules and Russ moved out of the bedrooms and find a couple more frames. I scavenge enough to get the pictures of all the kids framed, and we take them all downstairs and arrange them on the mantle along with Simone’s framed drawings.
When I turn to ask Simone what she thinks, I see Riff standing on the other side of the couch looking at the pictures. When he sees the drawing Simone did of Dylan, he looks over at her then back at me. I can’t quite read the emotion churning behind his dark eyes. Anger? Sadness? It’s a mix of more than one, like he isn’t even sure which one he is feeling. He looks back to the mantle, then shakes his head and goes back down to his room.
Did I make a mistake? Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, or maybe the timing was wrong. I look at Simone, and she looks a little sad, then looks over to the mantle. “I like it. Thanks for putting mine up there. It’s nice seeing them somewhere besides my sketchbook.”
When she gives me that soft smile, I let go of the worry. I can’t tiptoe around them. Things are going to hurt and sometimes be hard, but I am going to make this feel as much like their home as I can, give them evidence that it belongs to them as well.
“They are incredible and deserve to be seen. I’m glad you let me.”
B sits up and rubs his eyes. His sandy hair is sticking up all over the place. “I’m hungry. Can we have dinner soon?”
I smooth his hair as best I can. “Sure thing, B. How about we just do leftovers? There’s lasagna, all kinds of sandwich stuff and more of Jules’ soup. Sound good?”
Simone gets Riff, and we get everything out and set it on the island. Dinner is quiet with the air of tense stillness I haven’t seen since leaving the hospital. Riff’s silence seems to muffle everyone. He even blows off the movie and popcorn with the rest of us, preferring to go back to his room. I don’t argue, letting him have his space.
When the movie is over, and we are getting ready to head for bed, Riff pokes his head out long enough to say good night to Simone and B before disappearing back downstairs.
He is hurting, and he needs time. But I won’t let him forget that he isn’t alone. He has Simone and B. It may take a while, but he will eventually understand he also has me.
Chapter 23
There are no appointments or errands that need to be run today. No plans for visitors or deliveries. Just a quiet day for us to do what we want. For me, I’m going to go through the notebooks Riff and Simone made and try to come up with plans for what needs to be done next.
I know that I need to get Riff to his soccer camp. It will be good for him to get back to doing something normal. Maybe even give him an outlet for some of his frustration and anger. I haven’t a clue what either Simone or B have for activities, or if they even have any. That is one of the reasons I’d asked for the notebooks in the first place.
Riff again doesn’t stay upstairs long after breakfast. Simone and B go for another walk down the street. He is on his fourth day after surgery and seems to be doing well, even with all the stress and through the storm of emotions since he was released. I think that’s the biggest reason he has needed extra rest the last few days.
I don’t find anything in Simone’s book that I need to worry about scheduling. It’s the same for B. Riff is the only one with scheduled activities, and it’s just the soccer camp that I already knew about. I pull my work calendar up on my computer, adding that information. There aren’t any conflicts because I have few projects contracted at the moment, and most of those are at the editing and finishing stages, all stuff I can do at home in my office.
Simone’s birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I note that in my calendar as well as Riff’s in October and B’s in November. Looking up their school district calendar, I also note important dates like registration and the first day of school. The school calendar is set up so I can easily import it into mine.
My phone rings. It’s Mr. Ferrell.
“Hello, Mr. Ferrell.”
“Hello, Teri. I wanted to let you know about the arrangements Dylan made and what his wishes were with regards to his remains. Do you have a few minutes?”
I save my changes on my calendar and sit back. “I have time.”
I hear him shuffling some papers. “Dylan’s wish was not to have any kind of service. Chapel or otherwise. He wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread in a specific location. I have arranged for the cremation, and the ashes will be prepared for pick up tomorrow afternoon. I can take care of that for you.” There is a pause before he continues. “Did you want me to handle the rest as well? I understand this may be too difficult or too much for the children.”
I’ve never really understood or agreed with most traditional funeral services and traditions, preferring to remember a person’s life, not their death, but not having a service of any kind may leave the kids feeling like they are in limbo. A couple of thoughts start bouncing around in my head.
“Where is the location? Is it very far?” Still working on an idea in my head.
“It is near the beach by the lake. I have directions if you need, but I believe it’s about a forty-five-minute drive.”
“I think the kids and I should handle that part, that it would be good for them. What do I need to do to collect the ashes?” Damn, that sounds so strange and foreign coming out of my mouth. The reality is that those ashes are all that’s left of Dylan, and I’m making arrangements to get him.
“If it would be easier for you, I can drop by tomorrow after I pick them up. We can go over his estate information as well.” I agree, and we set up a time before we hang up.
I decide the best thing for Riff is to get back on some kind of a schedule soon, so I give his coach a call. I briefly explain that Dylan had passed, and I’d be handling things as Riff’s guardian. I tell the coach my thoughts on wanting Riff to return to practice on Friday to see if he agrees. He shares his condolences and says he’ll keep an eye on Riff. I thank him, then hang up.
I’m not as concerned about B, as he has been good playing with Jorie so has been experiencing his own kind of normal. I am not sure what to do for Simone just yet. Even with her notebook, I haven’t been able to pinpoint what normal is for her. She didn’t list any friends, though she does note that she lost touch with some from her old school after they moved. She didn’t list any interests other than drawing, music and a TV show here and there. She is also the only one who has talked to me about what she is thinking and feeling, so I’m hoping that means she’s doing okay for now. Maybe Jules has some suggestions.
Simone and B come back from their walk laughing and playing around. They help me fix lunch. Riff comes up when it’s time to eat and again doesn’t say much. He isn’t ignoring Simone and B, but he isn’t engaging with them much and not at all with me.
After lunch, while we are cleaning up, I’m laughing with Simone and B. “Riff, why don’t you grab the plates and rinse them off. B can help me with the silverware.”
Riff slams his plate down on the table. “Stop! Just stop it!” He yells, his anger flowing from him.
“You just show up one day, and we don’t even know you, and you just take over everything! Telling us what to do! Where to go! Moving us here! You even changed his name!” He flings his hand in B’s direction.
“It’s B-Rad! Short for Boo Radl
ey! It’s the name our mom gave him! It isn’t sweetie or B! You even have Simone calling him that! Can’t you leave even one thing alone? You are ruining EVERYTHING!!!” His face is flushed, and he is breathing heavily.
Before I can say a thing, B jumps in front of me and yells back at his brother. “You stop it! I like it when she calls me B! And sweetie! No one has ever called me that before, and when she does it, it makes me feel good! It makes me feel special! I like it!!” He goes over and puts his hands on Riff’s stomach and tries to push, but he is too small to move him.
“Don’t you yell at her! You will make her mad or scared and she won’t want us anymore and she’ll leave! Just like everyone else and we’ll be all alone and I don’t want to be alone and I like Teri and I don’t want her to leave!” He is crying now and still trying to push a stunned Riff.
“I don’t want to be alone!” The pushes turn to hits. “Don’t… *hit* …you… *shove* …make her… *hit, shove* …leave!”
I’m over there before the last shove, and I drop and pull B into my arms. He turns and squeezes me, crying, “Don’t leave. You said… *hiccup* …you wouldn’t… *sniffle* …leave. You pro… pro… promised!”
“B, sweetie. I’m not going anywhere.” I run my hands over his hair and look up at Riff. “Riff is just angry right now, and that’s okay. He has every reason to be angry. What Dylan did hurts, and it’s sad that he is no longer here for you guys. Things are changing so fast and feel out of control. It’s scary. He’s just really, really angry about everything and doesn’t know what to do with that anger.” I pull B’s head up, so he can look at me as I talk to him.
“I am not going anywhere. I’m here for you.” I look up at Riff and over at Simone who is also crying. “I’m here for all of you, even when you are sad and angry. No matter what. I promise.”
It’s hard to feel so helpless when all I want is to help. “Everything feels incredibly shitty right now. It’s okay to feel all mixed up.”