by Jamie Knight
“Absolutely! Anyhoo, we were fast friends after that, even though I was just a kid.”
“Simone always believed in treating everyone with respect. Goes a long way to explaining why Jessica is how she is.”
“Amazing?”
“Exactly.”
I knew that I wasn't the only one who was grieving the loss of Simone, but I never really thought about it. Not deeply. I really hadn't thought that Jessica would understand, but of course, she did. I had also never imagined that Simone would mean anything to Becky. How wrong could one person be?
“It still hurts even now,” Becky said.
“There's no timeline on grieving,” I said, trying to be helpful.
“No, I guess not.”
“Everything dies,” I said.
“Peter Steele?”
“Yeah, you like Type O Negative?”
“I'm more of an opera girl, but yeah, of course. My dad had all their records. Was something of a Goth in his youth apparently.”
I realized then just how little I knew about Becky. The real her, not just the persona she portrayed. Not in a bad way, I was actually having a lot of fun discovering new things about her. Particularly things we had in common.
“You need to be there for Jessica, it is what Simone would have wanted.”
“You're right.”
“Of course, I am.”
Her smile wasn't one of victory over a thwarted enemy. It has more the feeling of 'of course silly.' And I had been. Very silly indeed.
Chapter Fifteen - Dean
I was never really the kind to take holidays, generally of the opinion that holidays were for people who didn't like their work and I was one of those happy few who had managed to find and embrace their true vocation. Even when I would go somewhere, usually hot or snowy, on family vacations, I would take a computer with me and spend maybe two or three days, swimming or snowboarding or whatever fun activity we were supposed to do before I was back designing video-games from scratch on my laptop.
Even then, Simone would cover for me. She would try to coax me out to the slopes or into the pool, actually helping me to enjoy myself as much as it was possible to do and averting our parents' wrath for not going with the program. Though to be fair, Mom was by far the more authoritarian of the two, Dad mostly preferring to sip scotch at poolside — probably to try and quell the stress headache Mom had given him on the way there.
Old habits die hard, but they will eventually stop moving of you hit them hard enough.
I had promised myself that I would dedicate every weekend to Jessica, starting on Friday afternoon. I had asked what she wanted to do, and she had said she wanted to learn how to cook. I didn't ask but guessed that it may have had something to do with Becky's influence.
“I don't know how to cook, not well anyway,” I had pointed out to her, knowing full well that the quarantine wouldn’t allow a teacher to be brought in.
“There's a daddy-daughter master chef lesson online.”
“Now, you’re talkin'!”
With my laptop on the counter and Jessica standing on a stool, we had both gotten a crash course in the culinary arts, my little genius of a niece out-pacing me once again. I made a mental note to see about getting her art and music lessons when the quarantine was over.
On the upside, the activity helped shake me even further out of the funk caused by my break down. It was a few days later, and I was already starting to feel better.
I hadn't really thought about Becky most of the day that Friday. I was so excited about spending time with Jessica I had sort of rushed through work, trying to get it done. And because we didn't need her for nanny duties, she had spent most of the day in the parlor on her own.
“What should we make today?” I asked, tying Jessica's little apron around her.
“Chocolate chip pancakes, they're Becky’s favorite.”
“They are?”
“Yup.”
“How do you know?” I asked, putting on my own apron.
“Oh, she told me. Becky tells me lots of things. We talk all the time at our tea parties.”
“That makes sense,” I said, not having even thought about that.
The little redhead looked up at me. “Becky's really nice. She even talks to Mr. Otter, Bunny Bun, and the others. They all like her too.”
“Is Becky your friend?” I asked, curious.
“My best friend!” Jessica said, with the conviction of all six-year-olds.
“What else do you and Becky talk about?”
“Oh, lots of stuff. Did you know she went to school for math and ballet?”
“I knew about ballet.”
“She did math too! She's super-duper smart!”
“I've noticed.”
“And really, really pretty!”
“I noticed that, too.”
“Do you think I'll be pretty like her?”
“No, I mean, you'll be pretty, but you probably won't look like Becky?”
“Who will I look like?”
“Well, I would guess your mommy.”
“Oh, good! Mommy was really pretty too!”
I couldn't honestly say I had particularly noticed. I never really thought about Simone that way, but in retrospect, I couldn't deny that she really had been a knockout. As beautiful on the outside as she had been on the inside.
I was struck by another pang and thought for a moment that I might cry again. I breathed deep, trying to keep myself together. For Jessica's sake if nothing else. At least I was able to look at my niece without feeling a deep, agonizing pain.
Becky had been right, about everything, but especially the part about Jessica being a part of Simone and that being there for Jess is what Simone would have waned. She didn't add that Simone would have probably wanted me to be there for Becky, too, but I guessed that was the case.
It was just how my big sister was. She couldn't stand to see anyone in pain.
“Are you okay, Uncle Dean?”
“Yeah, I'm fine, sweetheart.”
“Are you sad about mommy?”
“Yep.”
“Me too. Having tea parties helps, though.”
“It does?”
“A little bit. It is nice to have something else to think about.”
Apparently, my little niece was using the same coping mechanisms I was — aside from the rum — and was adjusting better than me. She really was a small wonder. I had a funny feeling that Jess might well help me as much as I could help her.
I leaned over and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“What was that for?” my niece giggled, sounding uncannily like her mother.
“Because I love you, little one,” I said, finally able to say the words.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
“I love you too, Uncle Dean,” she said, getting on her tiptoes and kissing me on the cheek too.
I felt the tears coming once again, but this time, they were tears so of joy. I had finally found a place where I could be myself, where I could be loved.
“Do you think Beck will stay with us?”
“What do you mean, honey?” I asked.
“That's what mommy called me.”
“Is it okay if I call you that too?”
“Okay.”
“Do you mean, will Becky stay with us after we can leave the house?”
“No, well yeah, but I also mean after that. Way, way after that. Do you think Becky will stay forever?”
“I really don't know, honey,” I said, never actually considering the question myself. “I hope she does. I want Becky to stay forever.”
Once again, my little niece was a genius, seeing what I was blind too, and I found myself wholeheartedly agreeing with her.
Chapter Sixteen - Becky
It is odd how the best-laid plans can have unexpected consequences. I was honestly happy that Dean and Jessica were starting
to connect and believed that it was what Simone would have wanted. My friend was such a sweet, giving person. She wouldn't want either of them to feel alone, which was probably why she had given Dean legal guardianship. Not that his family paid much attention to that. To be fair, he was on another continent at the time.
Though thanks to efforts by the local authority — based on an anonymous phone call that just so happened to come from my number — the uniforms swooped in, Dean was contacted and was back in New York the next day.
Once I heard that Simone's other request that I help with Jessica as the nanny was bound to come into effect, I saw no reason to not go gung-ho. I guess I had a bit of an entitlement at first. I had known Jess for a few years, after all. I didn't quite get that Dean might want a say too or that he might be hurting. My justification at the time was that he hadn't bothered to be around for over a decade — I was blissfully unaware that he was basically on exile. Something that gave him an almost tragic element.
While they were spending time together, I looked for something to do, most of the fun stuff seeming to be stockpiled in the parlor. I would have gone to my room, but it just seemed too sad to sit in my room alone. I might as well try and do something with my day off, even if I couldn’t leave the house. I finally had some time to myself and was determined to enjoy it if it killed me.
I saw the spirit board, leftover from our first gaming session before everything went wonky-bonkers, finally settling down into a sort of joyful calm. On a whim, I got it out. I knew it needed more players but figured what the hell. They didn't really work anyway.
Don't be so sure.
“Fuck!”
Language, hon. You don't talk like that around Jessica, do you?
“I – no.”
Good to know. I would hate to have to come down there and haunt you.
“And what the f-fudge do you call this?”
A friendly visit.
“You can do that?”
Not really, but I never really was one for rules. Something I tried to teach Dean.
“Good job.”
Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.
“Really?”
Of course. I've always trusted your judgment, Becky. You're really wise for your age.
“So is Jessica.”
Thank you. She really does love you, you know.
“Yeah, I mean, I try to be there for her, but I – I mean, I'm not you. She needs her family.”
Do you remember what she used to call you?
“Auntie Becky. But that was —”
A wise judgment call on her part. Take care of them for me, darling.
“Them?”
Silence.
Just me in a big room, in a bigger house with nowhere to go and no one to talk to. I didn't want to interrupt Dean and Jess’s together time, my presence only being a distraction. I had to give them space to figure it out. Which, as a result, left me pretty much cut off. At least to real-life contact.
Struck by inspiration, I ran to my room and brought my computer down to the parlor, every room in the house had wifi, Dean had seen to that, and started to look for something to join. I was pretty open, but cults, racist groups, and multi-level marketing schemes being a hard no.
After a bit more searching, I found an online yoga group with a session starting in twenty minutes. Confused as to how they would have a yoga class online but curious enough to give it a try, I signed up and watched the countdown clock with high expectations while listening to Vivaldi to try and get into the right mind space.
The group was pretty straight forward. The members all logged into a group chat and did a yoga session with the group's leader, who was a professional yogi — a word which always reminded me of the picnic-basket pinching bear.
What I didn't know was that this was the advanced session, meant for people who had been doing yoga seriously for years. The kind of folks who could see past the crass commercialism and empty social status and did it as part of a serious lifestyle. Fortunately, my mom was one such person and had me doing basic poses before I hit puberty. It helped me to limber up before gymnastics and later ballet.
I didn't think the yogi was actually targeting me with the increasingly difficult poses, but it started to feel like it a little bit. Me being the new girl and all. It could well have been some kind of strange hazing ritual I wasn't aware of.
When the session was finished, I got my legs down from behind my head and closed the call window. I was welcomed instead by a pop-up ad. saying that they were desperate for nurses at the local hospitals.
I had thought about being a nurse for a while. That was why I took Math in college, figuring it would be a sound basis. Though I also had artistic aspirations and had started auditioning, and actually getting roles with some of the smaller dance companies downtown. However, I had always intending to go to nursing school when I got the time.
Then I injured my shoulder, torn rotator cuffs being more common in ballet than most are willing to admit. I needed money, so I started being a nanny just as something to do.
Maybe it was time I looked back at nursing. I hated to admit it, but there would more than likely come a day when Dean didn't need me anymore. He was connecting beautifully with Jessica, and they were even learning to cook. She had told me all about it the Monday after the first few lessons.
Things were a bit complicated between Dean and me. I was developing some pretty strong feelings for him, especially after I had seen what he could really be like. The side of him that Simone knew was there, and I tried to bring out of him.
There was also the sex. The amazing, incredible, beautiful sex. We had done it fairly regularly, and I had come to get pretty attached to him. The chemicals in my brain doing their work and promoting bonding pretty hard. I wasn't sure I loved him. I honestly wasn’t sure what love was. But I knew that it hurt to be away from him and felt wonderful when we were together.
Though he hadn't made any sort of commitment to me and I had no idea if he felt the same. I had to think about my future and decide what I was going to do with the rest of my life once the quarantine was lifted.
Chapter Seventeen - Dean
I looked into the freezer playing at confusion. Jessica was sitting on the cook's chair next to the refrigerator with expectant eyes.
“Chocolate, right, honey?”
“Yup. Chocolate's my favorite.”
I served up two bowls of ice cream. One chocolate, one raspberry ripple. I put the buckets away and considered the bowls carefully.
“How do we feel about marshmallows?”
“On ice cream?” Jess asked, as though such an idea had never occurred to her.
“Sure, why not. Let's go crazy!”
“Okay!”
Helping her down, I carried both bowls into the dining room, helping the little girl up onto the chair at the table.
Jess really was too short for most of the furniture in the house. I didn't mind, though. She would grow, and most of the stuff in the house has been there since either of us were born — I believed in having a modicum of respect for history. Besides which, it was nice that my niece trusted me to help her.
I knew I wasn't exactly loving when I first came to live with her, and it took a while for us to build trust. Something that was going really well, but I knew it would take a lot more work. That was okay, though. I had never been afraid of hard work, and we still had years to work on it.
I was determined to raise Jessica right. Not only for her sake or to honor Simone's memory but for my own soul.
I had spent long enough thinking about myself. Even the supposedly altruistic things like the app really being driven by anger and revenge. It was time that I started trying to honestly help others. I was going to finish the app. I would be sued pretty hard if I didn't but had ideas for other ones driven by honest empathy for the disadvantaged rather than revenge against my perceived enemies. Coming from a place of help a
nd love rather than selfish revenge and hate.
That was what I finally realized Simone had meant by making the world a better place.
We did the dishes, me washing and Jessica drying, standing on a stool so she could reach, and went up to my office. Jessica had been asking to see my guitar. I usually kept it to myself, it being one of the birthday gifts Simone had managed to get past my family in London. She had managed to get it sent to the corner shop, and the clerk had agreed to hold it for me for a price. I didn't have an amp, and wouldn't until the legal restrictions were lifted, but it was a hollow body, so I was able to play it quietly and hide it under my bed.
I had just gotten it off the stand when my computer sounded a familiar alert. Lifting Jess up onto my lap as I sat on the chair, I clicked the icon to answer the video call. And there was my old buddy Joe, who I was reasonably sure I had added to my ever-growing enemies list, with his son James.
“Hey, a matching set,” Joe joked, pointing to his son.
“But I'm a girl,” Jess observed.
“She's a sharp one,” Joe laughed.
“Thanks,” we replied in unison.
“Good gravy, she does take after her mother.”
“I'd noticed. How are you guys holding up during the lockdown?”
“We're okay. Maddie is pretty sick, but it doesn't look like it is going to be too bad. We tried to get some wipes and stuff, but the store was sold out. Thank goodness James is on solid food, or we would be in real trouble.”
“Is there anything you need? I have connections, I could get you a care package,” I said, saying the words before I'd even really thought about them.”
“Thanks, man, though I think we'll muddle through.”
“Okay,” I said, reaching over to end the call.
“Though I have to say, whatever happened to you during the lockdown, it's been good.”
“How so?” I asked, freezing in place.
“You're no longer a selfish jerk.”
I laughed. I couldn't really argue with Joe there. He did speak the truth. I had been a selfish jerk only thinking about myself even when I thought I was thinking about others. The main thing that had changed was finally accepting my sister's death and my responsibility to Jess — with no small amount of help from Becky. She really was amazing. It was a bit weird how she disappeared on the weekends, but I just figured she wanted her own space and was leaving Jess and me to try and bond. I was sure I could call on the nanny if there was an emergency.