"Oh, honey. It's okay. Grandpa had a good life. And, while we're definitely going to miss him, and it's okay to do that... we should also be happy for Grandpa. Because he's in heaven with God. He'll never be sad again, or afraid, or... have any of those bad feelings, because he's happy with God." I said the words, but tears followed each other in rapid succession down my face, and I was as much the little girl as Tabby was, crying for my daddy. I didn't know if I was handling it the right way at all, if this was how the books said to do it, but I did know even the books couldn't make something like this right.
We calmed her after a while, and I explained I needed to leave, to go to be with her aunts and uncles and figure some "adult-stuff" out. Truthfully, I hated figuring out "adult-stuff." I'd much rather someone else do it for me. That's why I worked a silly job, being a lunch lady, with silly people, like Sam. But every once in a while, I was forced to act like an adult, as much as I hated it.
Before I even left, Tabitha was happily ensconced at Wayne and Sue's, with their cat, Snowball, and a dish of wedding cake ice-cream. It was only when she waved goodbye she seemed a little sad. But Grandma took her hand, and Tabby gazed up at her and smiled. She was skipping away as they turned to leave. Good. At least she was okay.
Chapter 8
As I drove off, I realized that although it had been several hours since I heard the news, it was the first time I was alone, and I was very aware of it. The quiet in the car was overwhelming after Tabitha's chatter and the rush of getting ready to leave. My brain went back to the pain it shelved for the last several hours. "My daddy is gone!" a voice screamed, and the tears spilled out again. I became so overwrought I began to sob as I drove. Wayne almost insisted on driving me and waiting with me to board the plane, but I knew he needed to be with Tabitha, a reassuring presence in a world suddenly shifted. I wondered now if I made the right decision. I told myself to pull it together; I didn't need to crash on my way to the airport. People driving by in the rush hour traffic must have wondered about the crazy woman crying in the car next to them.
When I got to the airport, I collected myself and my bags. It would be a miracle if I had everything I needed. Overcome with grief, my mind wasn't working properly. In fact, as I waited for the plane, I went to get a soda from a vending machine and for several minutes, I couldn't remember what soda I drank. Then, I walked away and left my change. The plane was delayed an hour. Great. More time for me to sit and act normal when I wasn't at all normal.
My mind couldn't keep from going back, seeing his face, like a tongue that probes for a missing tooth, only more painful. I remembered a time, I must have been around six, when my dad hit a Wiffle ball and it seemed like it never came back. I remember staring up into a big, bright sun, its yellow rays streaking across my vision, and watching the orb disappear. It must have come down, while I was still blinded, and landed in the creek bed near our house, or on the sidewalk beyond the bushes lining our property, but all I remember feeling was total awe. Wow! My dad can hit the ball so hard it disappears into the clouds.
I brought a book with me, knowing I would have to wait for a while, and I was trying to read it when they announced the departure time for my plane was pushed back another hour. Reading was impossible. After I read the opening sentence about fifteen times and didn't understand what it said, I closed the book and stared out the window. A big, red air compressor machine with Houzer written across the side was attached with tubing to a plane. I had to laugh. Houzer was the name of the company who was constantly in our kitchen fixing the crappy refrigerators and warm-passes we used. I called Max. I began as soon as she answered.
"So, just my luck, whose equipment do you think is being used to help my plane to stay afloat?" Before she could guess, I provided the answer myself. "Houzer." I couldn't help but chuckle again. "I'm so toast." Maxine must have wondered if I was cracking up, losing my mind in the Bloomington International Airport (with one flight to Canada to make that title valid).
"How are you doing?" One thing I could say for her, as much as she might yell at Sam and me, Maxine was a caring boss when it came to family problems.
"Okay, I guess," I said with a sigh. "Although I stood in front of the pop machine for like fifteen minutes trying to remember what kind of soda I drink." I glanced around at my fellow passengers. "My flight's been delayed twice. I'm starting to worry. I need to get out there or I won't make it in time to see... his body."
"Do you want someone to come sit with you?"
"No. No," I answered immediately. I didn't want to have to pretend I was okay for anyone else. It was one thing to fool complete strangers, another to get things past a good friend. Besides, I knew if I saw her kind, sympathetic face I would fall apart. I was barely holding it together as it was. "My plane's about to take off anyway," I lied. "I just wanted you to know who to sue if it falls out of the sky."
She laughed, then turned serious. "Are you sure you don't need anything? Help with Tabby or...?"
I fidgeted with the corner of my blue jean jacket. "No, thanks. Wayne and Susie had her all hopped up on ice-cream before my car even pulled out of the driveway. Thanks, though. It's a good thing it's spring break. I would have hated to leave you shorthanded for long."
"Now, don't you worry about us. You take all the time you need. If you're not ready to come back after break, I'll call in subs. We'll be fine."
"Okay. Well, I think they're calling my flight." I didn't want to talk anymore. "I'll call you later."
"Okay. But don't feel you have to or anything. Once you get with your family and all, you'll forget about us losers in the kitchen."
"No way. And thanks again, Max. You're the best." My voice caught. "Talk to you later." The phone disconnected, and I stuffed it into my jacket pocket. I wondered for a minute if it was appropriate to laugh so soon after my dad passed, but I knew from experience life goes on. It has to.
Three hours later, they cancelled our flight. I waited in line behind a bunch of angry people who were starting vacations or had important meetings in the morning. When I got up to the desk, I leaned my hands on the counter. "Are there any other flights I can take?"
The young man behind the counter shook his head, grimacing. "No, ma'am."
Why did he have to call me ma'am? It made me sound old. I didn't feel old. I suddenly wished Wayne was there, or Darren. I felt like a lost little girl. "But I have to get to Colorado before nine or I won't get to see my dad's body before they cremate it." A couple of the irate customers who were gathering their things turned at this. I ignored the tear that slipped out, feeling sorry for the young man behind the counter, who, I'm sure, was feeling extremely uncomfortable about now. "Anything out of Chicago or St. Louis?"
His fingers flew over the keyboard. He typed, scanned the screen, frowned, and typed again. Finally he said, "I'm sorry, ma'am. There are no flights. Everything out of Atlanta is down because of wind storms."
I wanted to question what Atlanta had to do with me, but I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. "Thank you for looking," I choked out, and turned away. While I was waiting for my luggage to show up on the carousel, I called Sam.
"Hey, hon'."
"They cancelled my flight," I responded dully. "I can't make it in time to see my dad's body."
She digested this. "What are you going to do?"
I sighed. "Go back home and keep to the original plan of driving out there. They said they'd give me a full refund on my ticket, and there's no hurry now. It'll give me time to think." Wayne had already charted a course for Tabby and I to go to help Dad over spring break. "If they ever give me back my luggage, that is," I fumed, short on patience. I wanted to get out of there.
"Are you going to pick up Tabby at Wayne and Sue's?"
"No. They're still going to keep her, only for a little while longer now. We already said our goodbyes, so I don't want to have to go through that again."
"Okay, then. I'm coming over with a bottle of wine."
A tired smile found its way to my face.
Before I could protest, she added, "I'll be there by the time you get home." She clicked off.
And she was. By the time I pulled into my driveway, she was leaning against her car trunk, dangling a bottle of wine in front of me. I trudged toward her.
"Oh, Sam. I'm not sure I'll be that good of company. I'm drained."
"No problem. I'll tuck you in then." She put an arm over my shoulder. "I really wasn't looking for a good time tonight. I'm here to help. Do you need your suitcase?"
"Nah. I'm not gonna bother with putting makeup on in the morning anyway."
"Come on, then. Let's get you inside."
When we got through the door, she took over. "Have you eaten anything?"
"I had a Snickers at the airport. I'm not hungry."
"Good. Protein in those peanuts. Straight to bed, then."
When I got to my room, I crawled up on my bed. I took my shoes off and dumped them on the floor. The strain of holding in my emotions all afternoon and evening at the airport weighed on me. I started to cry.
"Oh, Dani." Sam climbed on the bed next to me and put her arms around me. I had a good cry, and she stayed with me, even bringing me tissues until I had a rather unsightly pile on my bedside table. I was completely drained of energy and could hardly lift my head. At some point, she must have turned the light out and left. Or so I thought.
Chapter 9
Alexis
When Sam called and told me what she was planning, I begged her to let me come, too. My husband, Christopher, lost his job three weeks ago, and I was about ready to kill him. I needed out.
His current unemployment didn't come altogether as a surprise. We knew for several months a strong chance existed he could lose his job. The company he worked for was sub-contracted by the city government, and an investigation into his boss, Jack's, unscrupulous use of funds arose. It seems the man was having an affair with one of Chris's coworkers—both of them were married—and taking her on vacations, as well as buying her fur coats and jewelry with the company's money. He didn't even really bother hiding the affair, as he openly called her honey, and goosed her. Once, Chris was pretty sure he interrupted them doing it on Jack's desk by the noises right before he knocked, the sound of mad scrambling afterward, their slightly askew clothes when they finally opened the door, and the disarray of his boss's desk.
One by one Jack let employees go, starting with the young couple who moved from Ohio and bought a house on their new employer's promises. First he let the husband go, and a week later, the wife. No severance, no apologies, simply goodbye. For weeks we'd watched as employee after employee was asked to leave, never knowing if this would be the day he, too, would get called into the boss's office. But Chris was the most senior, besides Jack himself, so we figured we had some time. That's why it came as sort of a shock when he came home one day with a cardboard box full of our wedding picture, pictures of our two kids, and a bunch of assorted office paraphernalia, some of which I think was actually his. I'll admit, I was pretty freaked out about him being jobless, and about neither of us having health insurance when his COBRA ran out in a few months. I called Dani immediately, in tears.
"Chris finally lost his job."
"Oh, no. That's awful."
"And I just went to the grocery store, too," I said in a panic.
"Well, Alex, you do still have to eat," Dani reasoned.
I laughed a little. "I guess that's true. I'm just so scared."
"I understand. I would be, too. Do you mind if I ask if you guys have anything in savings?"
I wiped my nose. Somehow talking to Dani was helping me to see things more clearly. "Yes, some."
"You know, Alex, you and Chris will get through this. And who knows, he may end up in a better job after all the smoke clears." You had to love Dani for her positive attitude.
But Chris didn't find a job. A week after he was fired, the whole company folded, leaving us without even our COBRA, and leaving him with way too much time on his hands. He would call me at work every day right before serving time.
"Hey, babe. What are you doing?"
I gritted my teeth. "Working. What are you doing?"
"I thought I'd mow the lawn."
He mowed it the day before, and a few days before that. "Good idea." Anything to get him off the line. "I have to go back to work now. Kids to feed and all that."
A week later, he took off for our cabin in Minnesota, and I rejoiced. Sad to say, it was a relief to have him gone. All we did was fight. Chris was determined to find a job back home in Minnesota, no matter how loudly I protested. I wasn't moving where our two dysfunctional families could drag us back into all of their little dramas. Besides, it was our son, Jay's, senior year, and he was named captain of the football team. No way was I taking that from him. So we fought, and fought, and soon everything Chris did irritated me. As spring break loomed closer and closer, I dreaded being at home all that time with my family.
So, a long drive to Colorado without my husband and kids? Sign me up.
Chapter 10
Samantha
Dani was a bit surprised to come down to her kitchen and find Alex, Maxine, and I sitting around her soda table, drinking Starbuck's while munching on coffeecake. She walked through the door with a frown, and then backed out, looking around.
"Yep. This is my house all right. What are you guys doing here?"
"Having breakfast before we go. Your Starbuck's is on the counter."
That, at least, seemed to cut through her befuddlement. She shuffled over to it, still wearing her blue jean jacket, her pretty black hair wild. As she took her first drink, my words sunk in. "Go? Go where?"
"To Colorado with you," I answered matter-of-factly.
She stopped mid-sip. "What? You guys can't—"
"It's already decided," Maxine interjected. "Need your keys so we can get your bag out of your car and into my Caddie."
"We're taking the Caddie? Todd's pride and joy? He let you use it?"
"This once. 'For Dani,' he said. You know he's got a soft spot for you."
"But... wait," she sputtered. "This isn't right. You guys should be spending spring break enjoying your families."
Alex almost spat out her coffee. "Are you kidding?" she shouted. "When Sam called I jumped at the chance. I would drive to friggin' Siberia if it meant I could go without Chris."
We all laughed, knowing how tough things had been for them lately. "And Bill has the kids this week anyway, so all I'd be doing is snoozing and boozing. Why not do it with my buds?" I stretched my arms around Alex and Max, and we held our breath as we stared at her. The comingled smell of coffee, tea, and Dani's hot chocolate swirled around us like a comforting specter. "So, what do you say?"
"So, let me get this straight. For my own clarification. You're using my father's memorial service as a chance to take a road trip together?"
We glanced at each other, and I answered for the group. "Yep. Pretty much."
"Do you realize how insane that is?"
Everyone nodded and said at once, "Yep."
"Pretty much."
"Uh-huh."
Dani examined Maxine. "And Max, you're sure you want to—" Max shuffled over to her as she spoke and placed a hand on her shoulder.
"I'm not getting any at home, so I might as well do something to distract myself from it."
Dani chuckled. "Well... How can I argue with that?"
A cheer went up, and we huddled together in the middle of the kitchen floor for a group hug. It was an odd moment, both happy and sad.
I broke it up. "So get whatever you need, and let's blow this Popsicle stand."
Chapter 11
Tucker
Zoe stormed into the kitchen and slammed her backpack on the table in typical teenaged fashion. I turned from where I was finishing the dishes and contemplated what strategy to use first. Direct, I decided. Direct is always good.
I raised an eyebrow and leaned on the kitchen sink as I dried my hands. "Something wron
g?"
Zoe glared at me in her best this-conversation-is-so-beneath-me way and said nothing. I slid a chair out from the table and spun it around to straddle it. "It takes more muscles to frown than to smile," I started.
"I must have really buff facial muscles then," she returned sarcastically.
I had to laugh at that one. I tried again. "Zo—"
"Zack Issaacs sat next to Hillary Cantrell today," she blurted out. "Okay? Happy?"
Yeah, sure. Thrilled. Not sure what the importance of that situation was, I prompted, "So?"
"Dad." She sighed, appearing exasperated. "Can you try not to be so lame?"
I almost laughed again, but even lame-o me knew that wouldn't be a good idea. "Okay, I'm trying."
"Zack Issaacs..." She gazed at me meaningfully and I tried, oh how I tried, to figure out what she was talking about. "Come on, Dad! Even you noticed how built he was."
Ah, Zack Issaacs. Now I remembered seeing him at one of the school's football games. One of the many I attended over the season where I tried to become invisible whenever Zoe's friends approached, so she wouldn't "die of eternal mortification." I remembered commenting, "Isn't that the Issaacs boy? He's filled out some." He'd changed from the scrawny youth who lived next door since he was five. I also recalled experiencing a fleeting urge to kick the kid's ass as he was strutting around like some peacock, with pockets of girls giggling and smiling as he passed.
"Okay..." I said slowly.
"Oh, geez, Dad." She scraped the chair back across the hardwood floor, and I resisted my reflexive reaction to chastise her, understanding whatever was upsetting her right now was more important than scratches on the floor.
I grabbed her arm as she tried to storm past me, and hurt swam in her eyes. "Zoe, please. I'm trying. I really am." For the hundredth time in my fathering/mothering career, I wished I could somehow channel my mother's spirit. She would know the right thing to say. Oh, please, God. Help me find the right thing to say.
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